Friday, March 21, 2008

Smoke Signals




I was lost for a while in the mirrored hallway of a high-rise hotel
Umbrella drink in my hand, sitting down
Saw ten thousand me’s with cocaine teeth and the chattering man
Thought about home
Thought about death
Thought about moving south

Rodeo wind blew in out the candles
And now everyone’s scared
Call my broker sell everything
I want to be prepared

Heard the cavalry cry
My girl for the night when I entered her
Sounds so fake, always feels fake
Finishes and then it feels worse

But any hallway has a camera
Every hallway has a camera
Don’t you know?
They never let you open the window

Smoke signals of thought
White ribbons of loss
High above the tree line
They cry out

I froze up for a second on the pyramid side of the Las Vegas strip
My brother hunched over in the bushes, getting sick
Security knew he took one look and through us out, Life’s not fair
Thought I die young with my true love
Thought I’d be a millionaire

In a mechanical world
A loud sound you never heard is always there
Radio’s trailing in the desert
Keep driving until you disappear

We made a gentlemen’s pact
We’re not stopping no looking back,
Lace those shoes
Take the first step, take the next step
“That a boy!” It’s never too soon

All that you keep is the journey
All that you keep are the spaces in-between
It’s not the first start of the ending
All that you keep is the journey

Smoke rings around your thoughts
Blue ribbons at dawn
High above the tree line
We pass out

Smoke signals of thought
White ribbons of loss
High above the tree line
They cry out

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Now there's no backing out. This is going to be reality


A house of cards...
the supple heart is not a place to dwell.
Now you have your cake. Don't hesitate.
Come on and just do it. Come on, just do it.
Put it in your mouth. There is only now.
Tomorrow has to wait.
But know there's no backing out.
This is gonna be reality.
You can never dream it down.

I have no way of telling the two apart.

Well, I made amends in the general sense...
But the devil's in the details.
And I know the cost, and I wanna stop...
But I can't do it. I just can't do it.
There was love I meant.
There were accidents.
So tell me which is which
cause I just can't work it out.
But for memory and clarity, we had better write it down.

I have no way of knowing the truth with time...dissolves...

I put the past into the ground.
I saw the future as a cloud.
If there's still time to turn around,
I'm going to.
It's just, one day I fell asleep...
And all day, all night I dream
I am the first one I deceive
if I can make myself believe the rest is easy.

Maybe Los Angeles, somewhere no one's expecting

Monday, December 24, 2007

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Update on Evan Farrell


Evan passed away an hour ago.

He was 33 years old.

His family has decided to donate his organs, which considering where Pat was a year ago, is incredibaly sweet.

Our thoughts are with his wife and 2 sons.

Merry Christmas :-(

A beautiful person named Evan Farrell

Tonight we were going to have a fund raiser event at Amnesia in SF with the Japonize Elephants. A few nights ago one of the Elephants' key members, an amazing musician and beautiful person named Evan Farrell, was in a house fire and is currently on life support.


(photo: Gram Lebron, Zach Rogue, Sonya Westcott, Evan Farrell, Patrick Spurgeon)

Evan's close friends decided that they would like to gather tonight at Amnesia anyway to celebrate his life with music. People will be coming at around 8:30pm to share memories, watch some of his movies, and hear some of his performances. My group will be playing at around 10pm, and the rest of the evening will be open for casual performances by many of the incredible musicians who were close to Evan.

Obviously, we'll be doing the fund raising another time. But I encourage everyone to come out and channel your generosity to Evan's family. The door will be by donation, most of which will go to the family, or you can donate to them directly. Even if you didn't know him I would encourage you to come and participate in this evening to remember Evan and what makes music so important to us- ecstasy, transcendence, community and catharsis and all that good stuff.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Censored and Deleted by Jubal on Red County...


I want to pledge allegiance to the country where I live I don't wanna to be ashamed to be American but opportunity no it don't exist it's the opiate of the populace we need some harder shit now the truth's getting around each public school is a halfway house where huddled masses sober up and up enough there's not enough to fatten the cows and feed all of us it's just a rationing of luck what can't be bought gets raffled off oh god good god shed greed on thee, your shining sea turned a dirty green from the industry off the shores of New Jersey I got a letter from the army so I think that I'll enlist I'm not brave or proud of nothing I just want to kill something too bad that nowadays you just point and click swing low satellite, hot white chariot in the computer's blue glare the bombs burst in the air there was a city once now nothing's there our freedom comes at their expense it makes sense does it dollars and cents they're stretching barbed wire across the picket fence that's surrounding your housing development in case you lack the confidence oh god my god give strength to me these amber waves purple majesty is nothing but backdrops for Disney look up close it's superimposed on a blank blue screen yea its fantasy fucking magical the dream floats like a chemical through each snapped synapse our television past that is beautiful no more no more

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Someone call the National Guard to the Mall of Amercia


OMAHA, Nebraska (Reuters) - A gunman opened fire from a balcony of a shopping mall in Omaha, Nebraska, on Wednesday and shot several people, witnesses said.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Saturday, September 29, 2007

When the President talks to God

The Calendar Hung Itself


I kissed a girl with a broken jaw that her father gave to her, she had eyes bright enough to burn me, they reminded me of yours. And in a story told she was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field and there were rows of ripe tomatoes where a secret was concealed.
And it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands.
And it stretched for centuries to a diary entry's end...

Well the clock's heart it hangs inside its open chest with hands
stretched towards the calendar hanging itself.