Looking For Grandpa

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I sent her out to find me an ocean. I sent her out said baby find me a stream. So blue and icy and oh so refreshing. Bring me the water that flows through your dreams. Where’s my river? Where’s his river? My big damn river?

I said get out and find me a volcano. A big ole’ mountain full a’ fire and steam. So hot and sweaty and so damn exciting, bring me the lava that flows through your dreams. Where’s my river? Where’s his river? My big damn river?

She searched in Aberdeen, Bali and Caracas, Dublin, England, Fiji, and Geneva and Havana, Indochina, Java, Kabul, Lagos and Malaysia, the Netherlands, Oslo, Prague, Quebec, Rhodesia and Samoa. Lookin’ for my river. Where’s his river? My big damn river?

Timbuktu, Uganda and Verona. Wakra, Xinyang, Yemen and all thru Zaragoza and finally she came home exhausted and dejected, she’d seen it all and done it all and just as I expected NO RIVER. Where’s my river? She couldn’t find my RIVER!

That night she cooked me up my favorite supper, she rubbed my feet and wore a skimpy negligee. We made sex and she told me that she loved me, and though I tried to hold it back I had to say:

WHERE’S MY RIVER? MY BIG DAMN RIVER? WHERE’S MY RIVER? MY BIG DAMN RIVER? WHERE’S MY RIVER? MY BIG DAMN RIVER? WHERE’S MY RIVER? MY BIG DAMN RIVER? WHERE’S MY RIVERRRRRRRRRRR?

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

She said run thru the alleyway. Run ahead don’t worry, I’ll be fine. If you stop and wait, then we’ll both be caught. Outrun ’em cause this ain’t your time.

I see the blind woman polishin’ her glasses. I see the mouthless girl wishin’ she could scream. I see the young boy wishin’ he was older and the old guy sittin’ wishin’ life was just a dream.

I see a Mr. Loser sittin’ in his limo. I see the overturned, ice cream truck. I see the killin’ and the lootin’ and the stealin’. If one thing’s gonna change, then let it be my luck, but!

When I die, then I’ll know, I’ll wave my white flag high. Until that day, get outa’ my face I’m gonna finish this life in the pouch of a kanga-

When I know why I’m here, I’ll wave my white flag high. Until that day, get outa’ my way I’m gonna finish this life in the pouch of a kanga-

When I die, then I’ll know, I’ll wave my white flag high. Until that day, get outa’ my face I’m gonna finish this life in the pouch of a kangaroo.

I never thought my life would go this way. I go where she goes. I do what she does.

Look at all the drinking people laughing and dancing. Bumper to bumper freeway commuters. Cybersex junkies at their computers. I hear sirens and I can’t help thinking of you.

She said run thru the alleyway. Run ahead don’t worry, I’ll be fine. If you stop and wait, then we’ll both be caught. Outrun ’em cause this ain’t your time.

I pass the fallen angel lying in the gutter. I see the reverend crying on TV. I see the anger in the eyes of the children and the guards at the prisons as they laugh and turn the key. I see the missles as they fire from their silos. I see the locks on the cages at the zoo I see the man standing in the mirror. I’m born and I’m here and there’s nothing I can do, but!

When I die, then I’ll know, I’ll wave my white flag high. Until that day, get outa’ my face I’m gonna finish this life in the pouch of a kanga-

When I know why I’m here, I’ll wave my white flag high. Until that day, get outa’ my way I’m gonna finish this life in the pouch of a kanga-

When I die, then I’ll know, I’ll wave my white flag high. Until that day, get outa’ my face I’m gonna finish this life in the pouch of a kangaroo.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

Unos, dos, cuatro, tres

Well, I took 4 years of high school Spanish and now I’m headin’ on a plane to Spain. I’m gonna chat with all the lovely senoriters and this is what I’m gonna say:

Donde por los chicas del la cuadras escribe mi oho un pode dos amarilla que tal’ mas tu’ verde  son leche y mi mama es tu’ papa que gusta que pollo que macho nacho verdad tu lengua whelay mucho en el pero es guapo.  Mi amo es senor ocho y mi pantalones es muy caliente.

Well, I took 4 years of high school Spanish and now I’m headin’ on a plane to Spain. I’m gonna chat with all the lovely senoriters and this is what I’m gonna say:

Cual es son la feche tu hermano es alto ensalada foxy mama que ustedes tiempo cansado telephono y loco como sueno menudo un momento telemundo y hoy por puede pregunta porque y podir.  Hola mi bonita poquita.  La Taco es en EL DEL BANO!

Buenas noches… Necessita jugar el futbol… Lo siento… Muy bien mal…

Hasta…

Words by Lewis Carroll. Music by Ken Weiler.

Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle – will you come and join the dance?

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

“You can really have no notion how delightful it will be when they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!” But the snail replied “Too far, too far!” and gave a look askance — Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.

Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

“What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied. “There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England the nearer is to France — Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

It is day but the sun is gone. He stands all alone. Head full of grey skies, the cobblestone is damp.

His tongue wets the brass. The pipe waits for breath. And as his eyes close… he blows…

Blowin’ and dancin’ and hypnotizing. Eerie and sweet and oh so enticing. Luring them, taking them, lifting them up. Lining them up and leading them off.

Oh look at the way he makes the rats dance. Oh look at the way he makes the rats dance.

Big black fat ones, hairless red ones, baby greys and squeaking writhing foaming ones. The piper skips, he pipes and he plays. A carpet of vermin pulse at his heels.

Mesmerized they follow the leader over the fields and down to the sea. And just when it seems the spell can’t be broken the rats reveal that they were just jokin’. They form a circle round the clueless piper and on a cold cloudy beach they swarm on their lunch.

It is day and the sun is gone. This town is sleeping and from the sewers echos tiny high-pitched laughing…

Words & Music by Matt Kaminsky

Ask me out, I’ll say, “It’s great.” Why stay home and master beta-carotene equations from my science book when I can be with you? You, you, you, you, you, you, you.

My life is an open book of fairy-tales and dirty-looking magazines under my bed.  I love it when you give me headaches. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

I’m Adonis. I’m the best. Epitome of happiness. Liposuction, I confess. A fantasy come true. I’m apples, peaches, pumpkin pie. Who wants to love me? Holler, “I”. I’ll thrust my lust upon you, but don’t ever piss me off ’cause I got a tan like David Hasselhoff.

I meet your dad, I meet your mom. I meet them with my clothes still on. Mom reaches out. She touches me. Dad gives in to his other tendencies. Please, please, please, please, please, please. We sit down. They touch my pecks. Then we proceed on having sexy talk which I take in stride. It’s Milton Bradley’s game of Life again. Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah.

Pam Anderson had Tommy Lee. That’s ’cause she rejected me. Now silicone repulses me unless it’s on myself. I’m apples, peaches, pumpkin pie. Who wants to love me? Holler, “I”. I’ll be your one and only, but don’t ever touch my coif. ‘Cause I got a tan like David Hasselhoff.

D, A, V, I, D, H, A, S, S, E, L, H, O, F, F

D, A, V, I, D, H, A, S, S, E, L, H, O, F, F

Words & Music by Ken Weiler

Riding through the desert on my brand new pony Geoff. Looking for peace of mind but I find instead. I am King of the Visigoths in 586. If you are a Byzantine you better watch your back.

Sailing on the ocean in my brand new boat. Watching the stars above wondering where to go. I am Marco Polo in 1271. I’m journeying to China to hang with Kublai Khan.

Don’t you want to know what I am. Wish I could let you know. Don’t you want to know where I am. Wish I could let it go.

Staring at the sky with my makeshift microscope. Finding the answer they will call a hoax. I am Copernicus it’s 1512. The earth moves around the sun or I will go to hell.

Surfing on the net with my new 686. Looking for a tangled web no one will detect. I am master of cyberspace in 2006. I’m intercontinental here’s my email address.

Don’t you want to know what I am. Wish I could let you know. Don’t you want to know where I am. Wish I could let it go. Wish that I could let it go.

All alone here at the end of time. No one left to find out who I am. I look around me what do I see.

Nothing

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I hear the ghosts of the butchered Indians riding their horses down the boulevards. Setting up their tee-pee’s on the sidewalks. Waitin’ for the rain.

I hear the ghosts of the butchered Indians dancing in the streets and singing their songs. Waitin’ for the rain.

There’s a knock at my door and I open it up. There’s a ghost standin’ there so I let him in. He’s a big tall man with copper skin. Colorful feathers and I can see right thru him.

He says I am the chief of the butchered Indians. We have come to take our land back. Oh we’re just waitin’ for the rain.

I look out the window. Lookin’ up at the sky. The storms clouds are forming. The rain starts to fall. I turn to the chief, but he’s no longer there. He’s outside dancin’ in the rain.

Down in the streets rivers of people float down the avenues. When will the rain stop?

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

She’s 17… and I’m in jail.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I wanna dance. Whaddya think about that? I gotta move. Do you wanna join me? I wanna move you. Whaddya think about that?

Say now now— Jump up baby gotta get it in gear. Gotta move it, gotta use it, gonna lose it, don’t care.

I ain’t got nothin’ other than nothin’. It’s gotta mean somethin’ though it feels like nothin’. So I work and I work—Off to work I go And I wake up tired and I move real slow.

Say now now— 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, boy am I happy to be alive. Cause it’s 9-5, 9-5, 9-5, 9-5. Punch in, punch out, drive home, drive back …Heart Attack…heart attack.

Well, I’m alive 7 days though I live for 2 cause my boss owns 5 until I’m 62. Saturdays & Sundays are my only fun days. Holidays are double pay and light on the freeways. Overtime is same pay. All work and no play. Time drags on from pay day to pay day.

I wanna dance. Whaddya think about that?. I gotta move. Do you wanna join me? I wanna move you. Whaddya think about that?

Take it away boys!

Say now, now— Shuffle, twist, turn, bend, kick left, kick right. Butt in, butt out, clap-clap, head-snap. Sashay, pleeay, knee bends and back pain. Fan-kicks, achy-breaks, pelvic pumps & neck strain. Shake IT! Use IT! Grind IT! Move IT! I wanna dance!

Words & Music by Ken Weiler

Don’t ask me for anything you want now. Don’t ask me for anything you need. I’m not looking to lean on you honey. It’s all about me.

Keep on asking, just keep on asking. Keep on asking cause there’s nothing going on around here that will not go on without you. I know that’s hard to hear.

You wanna know when you can see me? I’m telling you I’m always free. I’m not looking to hook up with anyone. It’s all about me.

Keep on moving just keep on moving keep on moving cause you’re gonna have to move without me. Cause I’m not going anywhere. I got nowhere to be.

Don’t look to me for answers. Don’t expect me to have something to say. I don’t believe in anyone anymore. I don’t even believe in what I say. It’s just another day. Call me crazy.

It’s all about me. It’s all about me baby. It’s all about me.

Keep on talking just keep on talking. Keep on talking cause you’re doing just fine without me. Seems like you hear what you want to hear. Makes no difference to me.

Don’t look to me for answers. Don’t expect me to have something to say. I don’t believe in anyone anymore. I don’t even believe in what I say. It’s just another day. Call me crazy.

It’s all about me. It’s all about me baby. It’s all about me.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I got a kitty and when he gets hungry this is what he likes to say:

Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa

I got a kitty and when he gets lonely this is what he likes to say:

Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa Maaa

I got a kitty and when he gets thirsty this is what he likes to say:

Hand me the whisky, toss me my smokes and send in the mice!

Cat Box, Cat Box, Cat Box!

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

A mother and a father they went to a church and they got down on their knees and prayed.

And they said Please let our baby be Jesus. We’ll do all we can to raise him right.

And God said- Sure why not I guess it’s time to try again, but make him happy. Please make my boy happy. If you can. If you can. If you can.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

What can I do to convince you that everything I’m telling you is true? I said, what can I do to convince you that everything I’m telling you is true? Nothing. No no no no oh. Nothing.

My father bought me a telescope and I sort of wish he never had cause Iast night I saw something that sort of made me sad. You see way up high, beyond the sky where the moon floats quietly there’s an asteroid with an attitude and it’s headin’ towards my house.

My mother bought me a microscope and I sort of wish she never had cause Iast night I saw something that sort of made me sad. You see I’m suposed to have 46 chromosomes, but I only have 41. And this book I’m readin’ on chemistry says dead people have 42 Oh!

What can I do to convince you that everything I’m telling you is true?

My grandmother bought me a crystal ball and I’m really sort of glad she did cause last night I saw something that made me flip my lid. You see, I’m gonna be the father of your country in the year 2000 and 4.

Let me tell you what I believe. I don’t believe in raising taxes, I believe in God. I think everyone should have an equal chance in life provided you’re white and your parents are rich. I think men and women should be paid exactly the same as long as men make a whole lot more. I think homosexuality is A-Ok as long as it’s with somebody of the opposite sex.

What can I do to convince you that everything I’m telling you is true? I said, what can I do to convince you that everything I’m telling you is true? Nothing. No no no no oh. Nothing.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I bought you dinner…now its time to face the pillow.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

This is a song about bunnies.

“Not too long ago somebody came up to me and said, ‘Postman, if you’re gonna go to the trouble of openin’ up your mouth to sing, you might as well have something to sing about.’ I said, ‘Put on some pants!'”

There’s a valley where the rabbits live. It’s called “Rabbit Valley.” But you can’t go there. Unless you’re a rabbit. Then you can go there. But you’re not a rabbit. So you can’t go there. HEY! A-A E-E I-I O-O U! Those are the vowels.

Let’s just say sometimes you have to break the rules.

So I went there. Even though I’m not a rabbit. I wore a rabbit suit. To “Rabbit Valley.” …BUT THEY KNEW… I wasn’t a rabbit. So they beat me up. HEY! A-A E-E I-I O-O U! And sometimes Y!

I’m goin’ back to Rabbit Valley, but I’m not wearin’ no stupid rabbit suit either. I’m going back as a human being. I’m going back as a human being with dignity and pride. I’m going back as a man. I’m going back as a postman. I’m going back as a postman who just so happens to be a human being. I’m going back as a postman who just so happens to be a human being who just so happens to be carrying a big gun in his hand. HEY!

A-A E-E I-I O-O U!

My rabbit has a human foot on his key chain. That’s not the scary part. What I wanna know is what those keys are for.

It’s awfully quiet here in Rabbit Valley.

Words & Music by Ken Weiler

I’m your man. You’re my woman. I love you and you love me too. So why are you leaving me this way?

I’m so blue, I’m feeling green. My baby’s gone and I need some cream. Cause my coffee’s too hot and my baby she’s not around.

So strange my baby’s back in my mind. Why can’t she be you? So strange my baby’s back in my mind.

I’m so blue, I’m feeling green. My baby’s gone and I’m gonna scream. Not only did she leave me but she swore she’d never see me unless I got down on my knees and let her make me bleed.

So strange my baby’s back in my mind. Why can’t she be you? So strange my baby’s back in my mind.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I never said my father was a lumberjack I said my father had himself a heart attack he went outside to chop himself a pile a’ wood and all a’ sudden his heart went boom! Way-oh, Way-oh.

My mother was my source for strength and wisdom but that ended when she had herself an anneurism, her eyes bugged out and off shot her wig as her ears blew steam and her head grew big and I said, “What the hell is happening to my mama?”

I’m going to Vegas and I’m bringin’ my life savings gonna put it all down on one hand a’ Black Jack. I got a system, it’s double or nothin’, I’m gonna turn my life around…and around and around and around until I’m really lost.

I was a young impressionable kid of 5 when I realized, “Hey I’m alive!” But that means one day I’m gonna die—ooh that’s depressing. Ha! Ha!

On T.V. I see kids in the street with nothing to eat, they’re thin but fat and flies are eating them and I have to think if they’re REALLY hungry how come THEY’RE not eating the FLIES…HUH?!!!

The Republicans shout at the Democrats, the Democrats shout at the Republicans. We’re right, you’re wrong, we’re right, you’re wrong! Shut up and get rid of my national debt!!!!

There’s people who say they’ll support you, just as long as they don’t have to. You lose your job, you lose your wife, your best damn friend says, “Get a life!” Ok, I’ll take yours. Way-oh, Way-oh.

I asked my girl “Do you think I’m cool?” She said, “Who?” I said, “Me.” She said, “You? HARD-LEE!”

I’m going to Vegas and I’m bringin’ my life savings gonna put it all down on lucky Black 13. I got a system, it’s 36 to 1. I’m gonna turn my life around…and around and around…upside down.

I’m a pseudo-intellectual, wanna-be-political uniformed registered voter. Who’s just found out he can’t shout so loud that nobody will hear him. It is my dream that one of my screams will reach receptive ears. That some young babe will come my way and wipe away my tears. I’ll sit and drink and get real fat and sleep my life away. I’ll buy a guitar and join a band and THEN learn how to play. I’ll be real bad and sing dumb songs that people think are hip. I’ll come up here unprepared and leave my fly unzipped.

Oh my mom and dad will be impressed, but ONLY mom and dad. Cause mom and dad think everything their children do is rad. Oh I’ll get worked up and sorta’ loud and try ta’ start THE WAVE. And crowds will sit confused and bored and wish I’d leave the stage. And I’ll say, “Are ya havin’ fun?” and you’ll shout, “No we’re not!” And I’ll say, “Yeah, but aren’t we hot?” and you shout, “No you’re not.” And I’ll say, “Yeah, well listen here, I got some news for you.” We’re doin’ 90 songs tonight and this was #2.”

Way-oh Way-oh Way-oh Way-oh (8 count) Way-oh Way-oh.