Lyrics /
Seven Shades
Black specks on white tiled floors
Which cannot be removed
Pass underfoot each day
Like hurried, useless truths
It’s true…
You push back
I’ve seen you do it
And that’s below your means
Seven shades of seven grays
Or more
And this is how we deceive
This is how we receive
This is how we breathe
Vine St. Dreams, Pt. 1
A man named chase
Has set the pace
When he tells me that everything is out of place
A song he sings
About such things
He’s going on about the aces, jacks and kings
So he would let me know when he’s home
And he’d rant on and on on the phone
He’d tell me things that have no meaning
I’d close my eyes like i was dreaming
A life of pain
A pain of shame
When she told him it was his fault that it would rain
A death he craved
Where he’d be saved
And trade this carbon base for dirt to be his grave
So he would let me know that’s he gone
And he’d sing on and on and on
He’d sing of things that have no meaning
I’d close my eyes like i was dreaming
Cliché
Just when I thought I had finally found a peace
This cuts me off at the knees
I should have seen it coming
Why did I think it would ever happen to me?
What factors did I see?
I should have been more certain
But here's a cliché now:
"You and I were meant together;
But we got lost somehow.
I never planned for things to be this way."
Now I ask myself: "Where do I go from here?"
Can I find the answer in fear?
Or rely on liquid courage
This is nothing new
This is nothing new
Here's a cliché now:
"You and I were meant together;
But we got lost somehow.
I never planned for things to be this way."
Bad Skin
She folds her clothes neatly in a pile
I can appreciate that, I'm anal, too
Brown sandals, brown hair, brown eyes...
I can see reflections in the dryer
Like a lifetime of mirrors staring back
With the cold light of day in their eyes
I've got no where to go in that line
Glances here, glances there
But i know i haven't got a prayer
With bad skin
Some guy looks at me and i swear that he smiles
If he's seen it once before
He's seen it a thousand times
Crossing my legs while fixing a smile
Or dismiss with the wave of my tongue
A lifetime of doubts in the night
Cursing my own brown eyes
I will stare, she won't care
I know i haven't got a prayer
With bad skin
With bad skin
She folds her clothes neatly in a pile
I appreciate that, I'm anal, too
Brown sandals, brown hair, brown eyes
Brown tees
No Guarantees
The winter sun throws long shadows on the ground
Makes me look like I’m ten feet tall
Beneath a tree carving letters in the bark
My alter-ego casts none at all
I know a place where everything's just fine
I've got a map but I've lost my way
And the further I go, the more I’m somewhere else
Maybe I won't go too far one day
The life of a cat is nothing to laugh at
No worries, no struggles, just sun on the bed
Like nothing I do, say, or think ever matters
Like whiskey at noon this goes straight to my head
Passing time reading books and taking notes
Can make a day seem like an hour
I read a play where everyone was red
No sense of greed, no need for power
The life of a cat is nothing to laugh at
No worries, no struggles, just sun on the bed
Like nothing I do, say, or think ever matters
Like whiskey at noon this goes straight to my head
No guarantees that she'll want me anymore
No guarantees at all
Never a Teacher
Emily says she’s harried
I gave her this advice
You should forgive them one time
But don’t forgive them twice
Well, who am I to proffer
When words can change my mind
I am an antenna
And you are far too kind
Never a teacher, just a mime
Truth lies in the middle
Or so I have been told
I’m heading for the deep end
But the water’s much too cold
I’m painting a new picture
Where my true colors show
This panic always finds me
No matter where I go
Never a teacher, just a Joe
You’ve got something left to choose
I’ve got something left to lose
I know
It makes all the difference
When hours melt to days
We spend time together
But see it different ways
Evening soon does beckon
And I will watch you go
You pass front my window
And that is when I know
One Foot Dancing
She comes from a life of privilege
Debutantes, and flawless visage
Homogenized streets of Fair-this and Pleasant-that
Where dad’s a tyrant
And mom’s a hypochondriac
Trades her talent for art-school chic
Got good grades, had her wild streak
Going to college in the post cold-war
Nothing left to protest
And Amnesty International’s a bore
What’s it going to be when it all breaks down?
She had always said she’d leave this town
But one foot’s dancing; one’s nailed to the ground
Small distractions do abound
She will always be around
Out in four, now she must pay the rent
Hardwood floors, deems it well spent
Charging up a fortune on her credit cards
Wants to pull the reins in
But self-restraint can be so hard
Flying lessons, off-Broadway shows
Has a bar where all her friends go
Living like a cosmo can be such a chore
Knowing less about more than she ever did before
What’s it going to be when it all breaks down?
She had always said she’d leave this town
But one foot’s dancing; one’s nailed to the ground
Small distractions do abound
She will always be around
I Only Do What I Am Told
I am a spineless man
I don't have self control
I only do what I am told
Get up at 5:00 a.m.
I go to my nice job
I only do what I am told
I don't initiate
I never make a start
I don't do what I want to
My father's a soft man
He just takes orders, too
He only does what he's told to
Cut from a cloth of yellow
Sewn to a heart of gold
He only does what he is told
He didn't initiate
He never made a start
He doesn't do what he wants to
It's too late, this was his fate
He let these things pass through
When he goes to the grocery store
And buys the same twelve things a week
It's just his colors showing through
A weakness I can relate to
I am a spineless man
I don't have self control
I only do what I am told
Cut from a cloth of yellow
Sewn to a heart of gold
I only do what I am told
I don't initiate
Don't even make a start
I don't do what I want to
I could try, but I'm shy
Can't let these things shine through
This Is My Fifties
Stories of a time
When everything was mine
Nothing left to find
Or buy
Home was far away
And we practiced every day
To find a better way
To fly
This is my fifties
I don't want to be let down
But like my kinship
I will stumble to the ground
It was on a Tuesday
That we both went out own ways
And on that cold march day
I cried
Could it ever be the same
After your release came?
Or would i hang my head in shame
And hide?
But this is my fifties
And i don’t want to be let down
But like my kinship
I will stumble to the ground
Past Prime Prodigy
It's spring again in his soft mind,
And like a thousand dreams,
Comes floating on a lilted breeze, it seems
Lost views appear like a vacuum
And squander all he sees
Confronted by this latent tragedy
Past prime prodigy
That nobody wants to see
Five years so quickly pass away
When doors are closed to his patience
And windows pass for keys
He’ll crawl in bed to dream what he can’t see
Past prime prodigy
That nobody wants to see
Five years so quickly pass away
Still singing Beatles songs
Not meant for him
But they can’t see the state he’s in
It’s spring again in his soft mind
Where there’s a thousand dreams
That tug at him ‘til he’s torn at the seams
New York Over Me Skies
At the edge of the world,
Or so it seems-
Only once have I been.
With the height of this steel
Surrounding me,
Only mild can I be.
Monolithic hurled,
Unfurled
Over me skies.
From a long way above
We landed here;
Only bright lights are clear.
Then a rail track below
Deposits us;
Only darkness and truss.
Who might take this place?
Great space
Over me skies.
I couldn’t wait for this,
Where I’d fashion ties.
I couldn’t tell of this,
Though I squint my eyes,
Tightly.
Cell Biology
Today is like any other day
I’m twenty-four, and I watch it slip away
Back down the alley way
With all my days before
I know that we’ve all been through some shit
But I’m determined to make the best of it
I know that I won’t quit
Like every time before
It’s only cell biology
And it’s nothing we can see
But there is something left to be
Today goes by any given name
We’ve died a thousand deaths and still we feel the same
We’ll keep on laying claims
To what’s been done before
Chasing dragons while conscious of the time
Leaves me knowing that what I’ve got is not mine
I used to fight this sign
In hopes of something more
It’s only cell biology
But if I still have memory
There must be something left to be
Grenadine
Figure mine only with grenadine
I don’t need help to describe what I’ve seen
I don’t need words from a clue
It could be lost in a memory
Or misplaced with things you no longer see
Boxed up and hiding from you
Turn my
Own phrase
I won’t ask quarter from wine
Sold on
This grace
Finding it in its due time
You can learn much from a dancer’s lean
Postscript a letter with what you glean
Send it to everyone you know
Turn your
Own phrase
Do not ask quarter from wine
Sold on
This grace
You will find it in due time
Scripted
Raindrops on my window begin to dance
As I pull out onto MLK
Alone, with you
On my mind
Still I can’t keep from smiling about the things
That we said we would one day become
I know that we
Were naive
I pine for a homeland, where we could be
But a place where no one knows our names
Somewhere where we’d
Start anew
Feels like it’s been scripted
You and me
Me and you
Though space and time have shifted
I conceive
That we’ll still know just what to be
The cost is not in dollars, it is in sense
Each is wealth I will never possess
To pay this price
Is obscene
Feels like it’s been scripted
You and me
Me and you
Though space and time have shifted
I believe
That we’ll still know just what to be
Credits /
All songs written by Kevin Carlisle
© 1998 Kevin Carlisle, BMI
Produced and Recorded by Kevin Carlisle February - December, 1997
at Eclectic Electric Studios, Cincinnati, OH (Evanston and Clifton)
Performed by:
Kevin Carlisle: vocals; acoustic, electric, and slide guitars, drums (real and programmed), keyboards, and bass
Mike Roesch: drums on 'Cliché,' 'One Foot Dancing,' and 'Cell Biology'
Puck Dunaway: backing vocal on 'One Foot Dancing' and 'Grenadine'
Laura Hollis: backing vocal on 'Vine St. Dreams, Pt. 1' and lead vocal on 'Scripted'
Eric Falstrom: lead vocal on 'No Guarantees'
Anders Griffen: drums on 'No Guarantees'
Dave Roesch: bass on 'One Foot Dancing'
Steve Lay: guitar on 'I Only Do What I Am Told'
Tim Dixon: clarinet on 'My Lost Conscience'
Thanks to Mike Roesch, Puck Dunaway, Laura Hollis, Eric Falstrom, Anders Griffen, Dave Roesch, Steve Lay, Tim Dixon, Rob Geis, Carolyn Mueller, Taylor Fox, Peden Lea, Sharon Vidourek, Steve Carlisle, Bill Wallace, Natalie Lintner, Noel Stafford, Chris Wagner, Greg Long, Eric Fricke, Chris Freson, Pat Osterday, Mark Arlinghaus, Julie McCarthy, Angela Brennan, Jen Nelson, Jon Frey, Kris Brown, Sean Droppleman, Rich Grimsley, Greg Fritz, Dave Williams, and Bill Carlisle.
© 1998 Kevin Carlisle