- album name
Radio Sacrilege
- band name
by Joel Moore
1. |
Penetration
05:17
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2. |
Forty Dollar Poem
04:13
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3. |
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4. |
Inner mission
01:06
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5. |
Where Has The Sun Gone
04:32
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6. |
What More Can I Do
09:05
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- about
- Random collection of songs by Joel Moore.
- credits
-
released 02 February 2010
All songs written, record and performed by Joel Moore unless otherwise noted. Copyright © Joel Moore 2008. - license
- All rights reserved
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- Track Name: Forty Dollar Poem
-
Forty Dollar Poem
Inside a flock of smoking penguins
under the belly of Nashville's Renaissance...Hotel
timesheet signing
next job mining
collecting conversation sounds
I'm mulling around
in silent observation
my stealing telephoto mind
glimpsing the sociology of labor
it's a weird dream state
activities and language
I can barely relate
I can't concentrate
a pack of eight
off to the side
among their Spanish selves
and there and there
and there
all standing two by two
seperate but equal
a quiet pack
a black crew
Tony tells me about Albany
his godamother
his birth story...
He's from Tennessee
management hates themselves
dishes and pitchers
thousands on shelves
these deformed
uneducated
they live in this cell
to me a past and conquered
Hell
Hard water hairdos
stress weighted faces
none of my friends
have witnessed these places
by the luck of the draw
I'm being sent home
four hours pay is set in stone
guaranteed work
though I don't have to stay
sittin now on a bus bench writing down
today
This southland it would appear
in a maranade of freaks
soaked in taurine riddled
energy drinks
though in places its still friendly
soft-spoken and meek
as strange as it seems
familiar wind on my cheeks
I'm glad to be moving back here
in the coming
two weeks
Forty Dollar Poem - Track Name: What More Can I Do
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What more can a man do
but wear out his bones
pursuing you
with the fight in his eyes
sinking like a stone
the work of his hands
was never his own
New York's cold white diamond skyline
shines
as the bottle tuns to pour
at a quarter past four
its final drop of wine
her last words to you
you're out of your mind
well it's strange that you're feeling
starring at the ceiling
whaddya mean baby
I feel fine
And these dreams
they are real
one more breath
I must steal
these dreams
they are real
like the vanishing Earth's
magnetic field
New York's cold white diamond skyline
shines
as another round of bills
dares a handful of pills
to finally cross the line