The Saga V - The Box

Adam Morris

The Saga V - The Box
Performed By Adam Morris
Album UPC 885767789678
CD Baby Track ID 8621438
Label Columbia Music Cartel
Released 2010-07-29
BPM 90
Rated 0
ISRC ushm21184097
Year 2010
Spotify Plays 5
Writers
Writer Adam Morris
Pub Co Columbia Music Cartel
Composer Adam Morris
Clearance Sync & All Media Uses
Rights Controlled Master and Publishing Grant
Rights One-Stop: Master + 100% Pub Grant
Original/Cover/Public Domain original
Country United States - Missouri

Description

Part surf rock beach album, part serious multi-part rock anthem, these songs run a gamut of styles, from poppy rock, to country, to the avant-garde. Be sure to check out the first and last track, which outline the broad range of musical styles within.

Notes

A completely solo production, from music and lyrics to recording and mixing.

Special Thanks
Props to my in-laws for inviting me to the beach where we first spotted the surf gator, to my friends and family, especially Tiger and my permanent cover model Indiana, who inspired many of these songs, and to my beloved wife for putting up with endless repetitions of chords, and for being sufficiently tone deaf to enjoy my music.

A big shout out to the folks at Barnhouse's Crazy Music store in downtown Columbia, MO on 8th and Locust. Thanks for all the cables, mixer board lights, and putting up with my enthusiasm! Thanks especially for introducing me to the Behringer V-Amp II, a sweet little box I used for guitar effects on most of the tracks.

Finally, I'd like to dedicate this album to my father, who passed away in November, 2009, at the age of 80. His funeral, and the events surrounding it, made this album real. May you be at peace, Dad. May there be good TV, and may there be no end of once-in-a-lifetime deals in the supermarket across the street.



Lyrics

Surf Gator

Surf gator raise the alarm
Surf gator the whole town's up in arms
Surf gator! Surf gator!
Surf gator he’s coming for you

Surf gator, he’s going for a swim
Up and down the shore back to where he begin
Surf gator he paddles and swirls
Surf gator he’s checking all the girls

Surf gator he’s blowing my mind
Surf gator please don’t bite my behind
Surf gator wanna get on the news
Surf gator he’s coming for you

Surf gator he’s blowing my mind
Surf gator please don’t bite my behind
Surf gator gonna get on the news
Surf gator he’s coming for -

Surf gator he’s blowing my mind
Surf gator please don’t bite my behind
Surf gator he got on the news
Well, Surf gator he’s coming for you!

Surf gator, NO! NOT THE BEACHBALL!


A Dog Named Indiana

There was a dog named Indiana
Waking his people was his favorite
His favorite thing was waking his people

But even more than waking his people
Chasing the squirrels was his favorite
His favorite thing was chasing the squirrels

But even more than chasing the squirrels
Chasing the kitty was his favorite
His favorite thing was chasing the kitty

But even more than chasing the kitty
Barking at big trucks was his favorite
His favorite thing was barking at trucks

But even more than barking at trucks
Sleeping on the couch was his favorite
His favorite thing was sleeping on the couch

But even more than sleeping on the couch
His favorite thing was greeting his people
Licking their faces was his favorite

But even more than licking faces
His favorite thing was playing ball
Playing ball was his favorite

But even more than playing ball
Sleeping with his people was his favorite
His favorite thing was sleeping with his people

(voice over)
Day eight hundred and Twenty-Six of my captivity
The dog attempted to eat me again today. I thought I would never be able to lick out the slobber this time. My so-called food struck me as particularly noxious after this gross indignity.


Don't Make Me Move Out

The day I met her parents
My lovely Southern Belle
Said, "I know he is a Yankee,
But we love him anyhow,

With his Mafioso mustache
And the big old N and Y
In blue and orange letters
That are tattooed on his ass!

Well, before too long, my sweet southern Belle
Got some letters of her own
A big old P, h, and D
From Hahvahd University

And now she is a huntin'
For a job so rich and carefree
She's lookin' for the sweet life
of tenured faculty

But don't make me move out, out West!
I know you're setting your sights high
And I know you’ll be the best,
But I don’t know just what I 'd do
In all that corn and wheat
I'm a computer whiz and I love my work
And you know I love you, too,
But you don't need a fancy CPU
To turn a cow to meat
So I'll quit my job, go where you want
And the east coast would be best,
Just please don't make me move out, out West.
A New York boy is allergic to sky
And I’ll wither and die out west

Then one day my Southern Belle
Says I got me a job!
As a university perfersser
Somewhere in Miz-or-ee

I know it's not quite what you want
So I hope you'll come with me,
To a big old house with a puppy and kitty
And a garage for you and me

Now all the while she was getting those letters
I’d got a sweet job of my own
Running IT for the college press
A computer king in ole bean town

So I tried to be happy,
but my voice was real sad,
And I said "that's wonderful honey" and thought
Should I get me a bachelor pad?

So should I move out, out East?
This New York boy is all pheklempt
What's he gonna do next?
I don’t know what I’m gonna do
A thousand miles from a subway stop?
Should I stay a big wig in Boston
Drinking scotch on Friday night?
Keeping my heels on the IT wheels
Rising to the top!
If I quit my job, leave what I want
I’ll never know how high I could get
So should I move out, out East?
A New York boy is allergic to sky
And he’d rather die in the east

But a house without my sweet Southern Belle
Just wouldn't be a home
And bigwigs come and bigwigs go
And IT guys work wherever they roam

So I'll move out with the cows and the wheat
To the middle of nowhere
To be with my sweet Southern Belle
In a house for her and me!

I’ll even move out, out West!
We’ll get that house with the puppy and a kitty
A two car garage for you and me
I may not know quite what I’ll do
With all that corn and wheat
But I hear the soil is good for plants
Ter-maters and onions and zucchini
I’ll turn off my CPU
And barbecue some beef
So I'll quit my job, go where we want
Wherever you go is best
And I will move out, out West.
This New York boy is country bound
I’ll work out doors and redden my neck
We’ll live together and I’ll love you forever
And we’ll spend our whole lives out west
We’ll live together and I’ll love you forever
And we’ll spend our whole lives out west


The Saga II - The Motel

In a tiny mountain town
I stop to sleep
In my clothes
Because I cannot get warm
I shower in hot water
Still I cannot get warm
I put another blanket on
And still I cannot get warm
I find myself drifting away
But I am not warm

I’ve been driving all day
And now I’d really like to sleep
But I’m so cold
Down to the bones
Won’t you please make it warm
Warm my feet
Warm my hands
Warm my tired little heart
Warm me up
And let me sleep
In a warm embrace
But I can’t - I can’t feel anything
Cos I’m so bloody cold

Hold me in your arms
I need to sleep tonight
The cold outside is inside
So Keep me warm all night

What kind of motel is this?
The walls are made out of stone
Cold cinder blocks above me
And I’ve got Cold cinder blocks all around
I’m like - I’m like in some medieval dungeon
Where I await my fate
And if exhaustion doesn’t kill me
Then surely, surely the cold will
Freeze me like a little turnip
And smash me on the ground

Hold me in your arms
I need to sleep tonight
The cold outside is inside
So Keep me warm all night


The Saga III - The Anger

A bottle of red
And at last a decent pizza
A quest to help old eyes see as young FAILED!
True sight is lost but yet the blind may see
Or turn to ANGER!!!

Unyielding Firm
Poised on the edge
Of a pair of circular blades
Cutting through traffic
Blind deaf and dumb
Even beauty cannot sway this beast
Nothing!

We face off, two warriors at the crossroads
Red lights blazing hold me trapped
But he is no warrior, just an angry fool
Who doesn’t understand the warrior's way

Nothung he swings the mighty club
The mirror cracked, the cracked looking glass
Of the foreigner in his own land
But the grief is still too near for ACTION!!!


The Saga IV - Broken Circuit

The lines of communication are cut
No signal can get through
An iceberg looms in the deep
We go over or under
There is no way to get through

The lines of communication are cut
No signal can get through


The Saga V - The Box

A wooden box so plain and small
A wooden box is plainly all

Wood and dust in the box
that is all in the box

A wooden box so plain and small
A wooden box is plainly all

And we wonder
As we wander
As we wonder
What is after...

And we wonder
As we wander
As we wonder
What is after all...

Flowers in the Hall of the King


The Saga VI - This Old House

His fire has gone cold
There’s no warmth in his house
His fire has gone cold
There’s no warmth in his house
A spirit, struggling to be heard
One last time!
Trap the gas and end it all.
Trap the gas and end it all.
A chill.


The Saga VII - Car Talk Part One: The Hero Embarks

Off to work one last time
The angry spirit
Travels through the power lines
Bursting forth in a shower of sparks
Burning holes in all it touches
A chance at least for a hero to go to work
To mend the broken chariot
To show what stuff a real man is made of
Lift the car, change the tire, save the day

But nothing so simple will fate allow
Gear from two cars’ trunks is enough
With gritted teeth and skinn-ed knuckles
The steel frame to raise
The spare once on, the chassis lowered
Lying flat against the road
Long neglected this shadow of tire
Can scarcely bear the brunt of its charge

But a tire almost flat
Is better than tire bust and broken
So with joy and triumph
We adjourn to find a gas station

And some air ... and some air
And some air
And some
And

The car will not start
The battery cold and spent
Nothing I can do
We call for help

But the man on the line can not:
We’d love to send a truck, he says
But this is New York City
And on the parkways
our trucks cannot go
we’ll alert police and send to you a special tow...

But here in New York
On our parkways
Our trucks cannot go
we’ll send to you the special tow...


The Saga VIII - Car Talk Part Two: Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber

Just sit right back
While I sing my song
Of Tweedle Dee and his tow rig gone wrong
Just five more minutes and it’ll all be done
Hey man - that car is going to fall!

So Tweedle Dee called Tweedle Dumber
Special Towers work best in greater numbers
Tweedle Dee called Tweedle Dumber
And it all went horribly wrong

Together they pushed
Together they pondered
They dared the Belt Parkway traffifc
Whether for a Darwin award
Or disability pay
We scractched our heads and wondered

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber
Five minutes mo-ore, maybe ten
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber
Do they know no higher numbers

But then the lady
She had to pee
I bowed my head so not to see
The tiny bottle her hand maiden cut the top off
Though 8 ounces of plastic would hardly hold the half of
Bent in two, off came the shoes
Out the door, she poured some more
While the car rocked with mighty laughter

That need now gone we wondered how much longer
It would take to tow our car
Five minutes were fast becoming hours
And a desperate jump provided no power

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber
Worked the lift by inches and inches
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber
We thought we’d wait there until Summer

It took 6 hours, 77 dollars and one point two miles
For Tweedle Dumber and Tweedle Dee
At a repair place to set us free
A lifetime and a half
Before the rest of us got to pee

So let this be a lesson to ya
Wherever you should find yourself roam
Fill that spare with plenty of air
Be sure to check your battery
Fill that spare with sixty pounds of air
And be sure to check your battery!!!

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