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And They Say I've Got Talent

by Tom Smith

Sand sifting down through a Sieve in the morning light Gets in my eyes, where's my Visine, my contacts feel too tight. There is a hole, big as Me, where I used to be, And in its place, there is Nothing, because it is a hole. Guess I should mention it's All 'cause my boyfriend left, Had his intentions ful- Filled, left me naked and bereft. And so I'll wander a- Round, in a party dress, Unleash my angst, vent my Spleen, play piano, thrust my breasts I've got a whole bag of Metaphors and similes and licks, And if it still seems too Shallow, well, I've got a few more tricks To make me seem as if I Understand the essence of your hurt, To make me feel as if I'm Innocent yet still might shed my shirt And they say I've got talent, Maybe it'll show someday, I've got a big-ass contract, Songs the radio will play And play and play and play and Play My heart is aching, it's Breaking, it's quaking, what else rhymes? Oh, yes, I'm shaking, this faking is Taking too much time And all I've got is four Minutes for the radio single track, You don't defy B.M.I. or you're In the cut-out rack I've got a whole bunch of Press releases, smiles, and evening gowns To hide the fact that my Songs are Tori Amos hand-me-downs. To make me seem as if I Understand that music's from the soul, To make me feel as if I'm Not a product, carefully controlled. And they say I've got talent In that pure-yet-edgy way I've gotta sell some more merchandise If I don't meet my bottom line, I'm gonna vanish right Away in the hills of my childhood, There, that'll make 'em think I'm deep. I've trained for years to look this natural, ... So how come all my videos Look like a sullen seizure while half-asleep? Guess I'll keep selling you Sheep my albums, cheap at twice the price No great leap from the dust- Heap... to a sweep on Grammy Night Look in my soul, there's that Hole... where I still am used to be I must be around, if I'm Found, call this number, ask for me I got a whole lot of Money, 'least my record label did Internet stalkers search for Nipple shots in each frame of my vid- Ee-ohs, so this is fame and Fortune, I can take or leave it be It makes me feel as if some Marketing firm found its destiny And they say I've got talent, Well, at least I know the score, I know I sound like I'm down on my knees, Not like I've not been there before. And they say I've got talent, In a unique-like-those-girls way, Catchy and vapid as a boy band, Songs the radio will play And play and play and play and Play (Try not to think about the Truer, deeper, better singer- Songwriters you've never heard of Working hard and starving while I Tour the country, do the talk shows, Sell the albums, get on M.T. V., I only hope that someday Someone hears the songs I wrote for me....) ... and play and play and play and play and play....
Woke up dis mornin', just like I always do, Don' know why 'xactly, but dis morning I'm feelin' kinda blue. 'Course, I'm a Norwegian bachelor farmer -- hey, whatcha gonna do? Got myself a Guernsey, she's all covered with spots, In spring she gives me fertilizer -- well, I give her Ex-Lax, and she makes garden plotz. Some local kids got some paint, an' on my cow they played connect-the-dots. Got a high-tech fishin' pole, dat new Zebco rod & reeler, It's got anti-lock brakes, a cell phone, GPS, Weber gas grill, Firewire, and potato peeler. And streaming internet radio, so on Saturday I don't have to miss Garrison Keillor. I got my woman Inga -- an' Inga's lookin' mighty fine, She's my hot Wisconsin mama -- twenty six, but she could pass for thirty-nine. I ain't goin' out with her for her brains -- not that shes goin' out with me for mine. She went down to da dock and wondered: How much lumber we got here? She counted all the boards and slits between 'em, hit the end and disappeared, I guess it's true what dey say -- when you're outa slits, you're outa pier. When she got back on dry land, I asked her, Where'd ya go? She shrugged and said, "Slit happens" -- why she said dat, I'll never know, It musta been pier pressure -- Well, That's the song. I gotta go.
Happy Conception Day, the day your life began, Another stone that paves the way for God's eternal plan. You were not yet completely formed, but part of you was whole, For God so loved the new unborn, He gave to you a soul. Happy Conception Day, from whence you did begin, Your blessed life wiping away your parents' mortal sin, Their act offended Baby Jesus, and can't be condoned, But, then again, from fallen trees the sharpest spears are honed. Our nation is in convergence with The dictates of our creed, Our moral sense of urgency Beat women's selfish greed. We celebrate this resurgence of Him risen from His tomb, And, in nine months, your emergence from The prison of the womb. Happy Conception Day, your parents' path, abjure, We hope you follow The One Way, God's love will keep you pure, And don't forget tradition and our faith will see you through, For, if you stray, perdition and damnation wait for you. Amen.
Cheer, cheer for Trans Poly U, Rise, our creations, here's what to do, Show their folly, watch them fry, as We call the lightning from the sky. What tho' the odds be great or be small, Trans Poly U will rule over all, This entire world will fall, and Worship Trans Poly U. 2, 4, 6, 8, You can't beat what we create! It's all right, it's all good, Those blind fools never understood. That's okay, they won't score, That's what this new Death Ray's for. Punch 'em inna head, kick 'em inna ditch, Forget the Hail Mary -- throw the switch! Yayyy! Cheer, cheer for Trans Poly U, This is a day that their team will rue, They run plays, but we've got plans, we'll Make them give in to our demands! All of them laughed, but soon they will see, Ruling the world is our destiny, Starting with this game will do, so Fight on, Trans Poly U!
Willkommen to Bavaria! Everybody DANCE! You've heard that everyone is six degrees from Kevin Bacon, But do you know the Six Degrees of Grand Exalted Mason? For everyone and everything has around it curled The tentacles of the Secret Masters who control the world. (chorus) I rule you, you rule me, someone rules us secretly, It's a vast conspiracy, the Illuminati Polka! For several thousand years now, they've worked behind the scenes, They laugh when we buy Dockers -- we've all got designer genes! They know if you'll get the girl or pass the S.A.T., It's kinda like The Truman Show combined with D&D. (chorus) Everybody's bank account is serviced by the Gnomes, The Masonic Temple gets the mortgage payment for your homes, Commander Weisshaupt keeps Saddam from being killed too soon, While Crowley and Blavatsky run Wall Street from the moon. (chorus) The Media say "Everything is awful but it's okay", It turns out that Fox Mulder is really Keyser Soze, If Men In Black are in your tub, or birds consult your cat, Duck your head, try not to think, and wear this tinfoil hat. (chorus) The entertainment industry just got the Atom Bomb, Dick Cheney and Al Qaeda run Enron with your mom, Your DNA's on CD-R, so heads up, P.D.Q., You may not have a hope in hell, but at least you've got a clue! (chorus) Fnord!
Dark Country 05:23
So here we are, alone at last, And on my own home ground, The lady and the tiger, Or perhaps the fox and hound. Don't look at me like this is something You weren't leading to, You're here because you want to be, I'm here because of you. How many years you've had to wait, I bet you fantasized, About standing here before my gate, To look me in the eyes, But the more that you investigate, The less that you despise, So ask yourself how much your hate Was founded on the lies. Nothing is... as simple as it seems, What some folks call reality, others disregard as dreams, And, in the dark, can anyone determine if the screams Are of terror, or of love, or of pain? You thought I killed your family, Murdered one by one, There's only one boy left, and he Turns out to be my son. I can't blame you for loathing me, But now that passion's turned, The raiment that you're clothing me in Shows you haven't learned. The bead of sweat above your lips, The tousle of your hair, The tremor in your fingertips, The way that we both stare, The way your breast is heaving, Like you can't resist my charms, Now what's this talk of leaving, When you're circled in my arms? No one... is ever really changed, Free will is an illusion, and the willful are deranged, And, in the dark, can anyone determine what is strange, What is terror, what is love, what is pain? In days gone by, the fashion Was to speak of flames of passion, That would live and die from spark to flare to glow, But the spasm of desire Is like lightning on a wire, So forget the past, and let the current flow. And now you wonder what you've lost, Compared to what you've won, And wondering if the final cost Will matter when it's done. The one you wanted most to die, To pay for all his sin, Is the only one who can satisfy And fill your depths within. And I can feel you watching me, And wondering, Why this? There's more here than an enemy Converted with a kiss. Well, I like having all my pawns Convenient at my hands, For Judgment Day is coming on, And, darlin', I've got plans. Know this... it's always been a game, From order there comes chaos, but each one's just a name, And, in the dark, I'll show to you that everything's the same, That your terror is your love is your pain.
In a faraway land lived a hero so grand He was lauded in story and song. All the people would sigh when he came riding by, They applauded Sir Rupert the Strong But deep in his soul, a desire took its toll, Causing such anguish, heartache, and hurt: "Something in me believes I should take off my greaves, I'd be much more demure in a skirt." (chorus) Three cheers for Rupert the Swishy, Hip Hip Hooray and Huzzah! For fame he was fated the day that he traded His chainmail shirt for a bra. "I've slain dragons galore, I no longer keep score, Saved more maidens than I knew existed, But all of my fame couldn't salvage my name If the people knew I was this twisted. "Yet there's something refined in a plunging neckline And a hem that goes just down to there, Fancy gloves, fancy shawl, and a cute parasol -- Why not? Those who love me won't care!" (chorus) So Rupert discarded the armor that guarded His vitals from monster and man. His sword and his mace paid for linen and lace, For a fight, all he had was a fan. But he moved rather well in that fetching pastel, And he loved how it swirled 'round his thighs, He was all manly thews down to those spike-heel shoes, And the townsfolk just stared in surprise. (chorus) "What's up with Rupert the Swishy? Did he lose some kind of bet? Once armored and bladed, now festive, brocaded, And possibly no longer het." As he walked down the street, Rupe could feel the heat From the onlookers burning with shame, How dare that their hero like THIS should appear! O Disgrace! O Despair! Who's to blame? Rupert tried to ignore, but now he felt unsure -- Was this all just a monstrous whim? When a young lad ahead looked at Rupert and said, "Sir... I like that. It makes you look slim!" (chorus) So now wearing with pride what he once hid inside He's still known as Sir Rupert the Strong, Strong enough to stick tight to what he knew was right, Though others may think he was wrong. And you, who might feel something so strong and real That you think it might burst out your chest Just be true to your soul, you can make yourself whole -- And be sure your sword matches your dress. (chorus)
Bullet Time 03:38
There is a dream / that they try to sell you, Peaches and cream / but no one'll tell you That under the gloss / the whole thing is rotten, And once you get lost / you're gone and forgotten. Last time I looked / bein' a cop meant you worked by the book / the law is the fine print But not around here / it's screwed up my life It killed my career / my daughter, my wife And I can Feel time crowding me in to a choice I can't stand Seems the only time I feel like I'm in command -- Bullet time makes me a man. The bad guys are good / at gaming the system, So often I should / have hit 'em, I've missed 'em, My vict'ries were mor / al, failures were mounting, I needed a score / they'll think is worth counting. In all of this time / I'd never killed any- One solving crime / now there's so many, Gun in my hand, lots of / blood on it too, But what in the hell / is a man s'posed to do? And I can Feel time slippin', how long should I try to survive? Seems the only time I can steer that inner drive -- Bullet time keeps me alive. I got a moment here and a moment there When I can focus on the how and why and where, I can hear the clock tickin' in my head, Counting down to the second when somebody's dead. It's like makin' love, only lots more grim, As the universe contracts to me and him, The brush of a kiss, the squeeze of a trigger, The smallest of motions and emotions get bigger.... The dream that they sell / we all try to be it, A cold day in hell / before I ever see it, And my only chance / for any salvation Is seat-of-the-pants / straight into damnation But I don't despair / you need hope for that one I don't need a prayer / long as I got my gun But in me's a cancer / the memory from back when Death wasn't the answer / or even the question And I Feel time slowing, or am I just going insane? Seems the only time that I can explain -- Bullet time eases the Payne.
If you go down Indiana way, you can find him there, or so they say, The living legend called "Moonwolf" -- this song is his. Give him a hammer, he'll make you a gun; give him a guitar, he'll make you a pun, But don't give him a girl, he's made enough o' those as it is. Hey. Now, Wolfie's got stories from coast to coast, but this one's a little bit newer than most, See, last week he saw an ad in the local news, There was an auction set for Sunday night, and Wolf couldn't believe he was reading right -- Firearms, musical instruments, and antique tools. Er, I thought the rhyming word was gonna be "booze". Naaaah. You can't buy liquor in Indiana on a Sunday. Yeah, well, I've heard you can't buy liquor in Indiana any other day of the week, either. Why do you think we live next to Kentucky? It was one of those hazy summer nights that can lead to love or lead to a fight And it's hard to say which one you'd rather see, Well, ol' Moonwolf drove his 4-by-4 right up to the red barn's weathered door When his Wolf Sense started tingling suspiciously. Unfortunately, it tingles kinda loud -- AWOOO AWOOO AWOO- you get the idea. Well, it wasn't the seventeen virginal hotties with their sensuous smiles and bodacious bodies, Heck, that's part of Moonwolf's standard convention rate, And it wasn't the bottles of Bushmill and Tully, no, it was the rope going over the pulley, Tied to a stick proppin' open a Wolf-sized crate. Just then he noticed, between the trees, a spring-loaded platform with a tray of cheese And a bucket balanced on top of the old barn door, A bear trap set with a bottle of beer, a target with a sign: "FREE BIRD SEED HERE", And his Wolf Sense started tingling even more. AWOOO AWOOO AWOO- damn, that's annoying. What d'you expect? I was bitten by a radioactive Hoosier. Wel, yeah but -- Couldn't you at least sprout Ginsu knives from your knuckles or something? Ehh -- maybe at Christmas, You could call myself "Adamantium Claus". Ho ho ho. Wolf raised his eyebrow and set his jaw, and said real loud, "I can call the Law, Or you can come out and we can settle this man to man. Whatever you want, whoever you are, I came for the tools, the guns and guitars, And if I can't get 'em here, I'll go someplace where I can." The barn door opened with a creak and a hiss -- Wolf noticed the bucket fell and missed The mysterious figure silhouetted by a cold green glow. Well, it wasn't Roper or Grubbs or Sutton, it was tall and blue and had its finger on the button Of a Moonwolf-talent-stealing remote control. Y'notice how I get that plot point in there, Without resorting to a whole buncha mind-numbingly complex exposition? Sh-heh! This version of this song was three and a half hours, folks. Hey, hey! I'm saving that for the Director's Cut. Coming out on DVD this November. Only available from TomSmithOnline.com. That alien said, "From beyond the Moon, past Venus and Mars, from the local cluster to the furthest stars, Is Moonwolf known and feared and loved and adored, You're a hero and example to all space fellas, and it drove me crazy and I got so jealous I created a machine in which all your skills will be stored. I'm a terrible shot and a tone-deaf jammer, with tools I'm all thumbs that I've nailed with hammers, But with this device I will finally come into my own. Your blacksmithing tricks, your firearm savvy, your musical licks -- I now shall have! E- Ven as we speak, I become Moonwolf -- I, alone! YAAHH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAA-HA-HA-HA-HAAA!" Y'know, there just ain't enough Stan Lee-style psychotic cackling in talking blues. The hell you say. Moonwolf sighed and he shook his head, saying "Interesting thought, but didn't you forget The First Rule of Evil Schemes in a Comedy Song? All this rantin' and ravin' and pausing to gloat has distracted you so much you failed to notice That this is the verse where all of this stuff goes wrong." The alien snarled and aimed his remote, but the stick holding open the crate up and broke, And the whole thing came down on his foot with a nasty thud. His eyes bugged out and he yelped and hopped six feet in the air, and his good foot stopped In the not-quite-forgotten bucket sittin' there in the mud. The ensuing forty-three-and-a-half seconds Are a watershed in the history of musical comedy. Unfortunately, it all happened so durn fast, and the light was so dim, That what precisely happened has been lost to posterity. Hey -- you've all seen Road Runner cartoons. Same shit, different day. Well, the alien ran like a scalded cat, and was never again seen after that, And the moral of my story's clear and done. Don't run an auction and don't have the stuff, don't wave a remote and tell me you're tough, And don't try to be Moonwolf, 'cause he's the only one. Heeee's... the only one!
Hush now, my baby, the daylight is done, Your scales catching moonlight instead of the sun, So lay down your head, till the dawn comes anew, For here there be dragons to watch over you. Dream now, my baby, of life in the clouds, Your head held so high and your wings spread so proud, For I know a secret I promise is true, Here there be dragons, and one of them's you. Twelve years, I Grant, was a long time to wait, But I knew you'd get here, I knew it was fate, But sometimes a dragon takes longer to birth, Because, to create them, it takes the whole earth. Within you the fires of Africa glow, The East Asian winds, Scandinavian snow, The mountains, the forests, the rivers, the skies, The whole of creation is there in your eyes. Hush now, my baby, and dream how you will, You have your whole life for your dreams to fulfill, And don't be afraid of the things you dream of, For here there be dragons, below and above, You're a dragon, you're life... You're a dragon, you're love.
She was the hot adolescent Queen of Naboo, With Kabuki makeup and a big hairdo, When she went outside, all the people would holler, "You could be an action figure, little Padme Amidala!" She didn't know that Palpatine was making clones, So he could put himself upon the Galactic Throne, In the misery of power and wealth she'd wallow, With a hundred costume changes, little Padme Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! On Tatooine, they decided to play the odds With Watto's little blond womp rat, racing pods, Built Cee Threepio for a robot pal, I Think it's Anakin Skywalker, hot for Padme Amidala! He grew up, they got married, had kids, she died, Losing her would turn ANYONE to the Dark Side, Her daughter is a Senator the Rebels follow, And her son's a moisture farmer -- THANK YOU, MOMMY AMIDALA! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! Anakin is cybernetic now, the Jedi Traitor Traded in his midichlorians to be Darth Vader, David Prowse in da house, 'cause there's no one taller -- He's da shizzle in her nizzle, little Padme Amidala! Why did five different actors play Darth on screen? How'd their kids end up on Alderaan and Tatooine? Man, it takes a real get-a-life Star Wars scholar To keep track of all this stuff about that Padme Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! ... Anakin was gonna be a Jedi, ... Too bad he grew up to be the bad guy, ... Luke and Leia, say hello to Dad Sky- ... Wal-ker, Ahhh! ... Palpatine thinks he's better than the rabble, ... Jar Jar Binks, just please shut up your babble, ... Qui-Gon Jinn's a hundred points in Scrabble, ... Ahhh, Haah, Haaahhh! ... Ewok, Jawa, have a Gaffe Stick, yeah, ... Ewok, Jawa, have a Gaffe Stick, yeah, ... Short people got ... No reason to live.... OKAY! It JAR-JAR TIME! Meesa be do it, singin' on de last verse, Already blew it, 'cause me didn't rehearse, Meesa say "Screw It", me forget de damn words! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Rock me, Amidala! Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala, Amidala, Amidala Amidala -- AMIDALA!
Most days are like all of the others, Go to work, come back home, watch TV, But, brother, if I had me druthers, I'd chuck it and head out to sea, For I dream of the skull and the crossbones, I dream of the great day to come, When I dump the mundane for the Old Spanish Main And trade me computer for rum! ARRR! T' me, Yo, Ho, Yo, Ho, It's "Talk Like A Pirate" Day! When laptops are benches God gave us fer wenches, And a sail ain't a low price ta pay! When timbers are shivered and lillies are livered And every last buckle is swashed, We'll abandon our cars for a shipfull of ARRRs And pound back the grog till we're sloshed! Yo ho.... Don't pick up yer phone and say "Hello, Our ten-o-clock meeting's delayed", Ye scrunch up yer face and ye bellow, "AVAST! Ye've been bleedin' BELAYED!" Ye can't keep this fun to yerself, I bet, So sing "Aye!" "ARRR!" "Ayy!" every man! We ain't got much grasp of the alphabet, But a damn good retirement plan! T' me, Yo, Ho, Yo, Ho, It's "Talk Like A Pirate" Day! Whatever's in fashion is in for a thrashin' And bein' polite is passe! When it's ev'ry man's duty to grab his proud beauty And let out a hearty YO HO! And if this offends you, hold y'r breath as we sends you Ta Davy Jones' Locker ya go! Yo ho.... We'll tell every banker "Heave to and weigh anchor!" Buy latte with pieces of eight We'll fight to be chosen as cap'n or bosun The loser, o' course, is worst mate! When we hoist Jolly Roger, the landlubbers dodge 'er, We fill 'em with loathing and fear, We'll plunder and pillage each city and village, Or at least clean out Wal-Mart of beer! There ain't no computin' or morning commutin', No "Parking Lot Full" signs for me, No lawns ta be mowin' or bills to be owin', I'm knowin' the pull of the sea. The fresh salty brace of the wind on my face Through hurricane, sunshine or squalls, I'm keepin' my eyes on the distant horizon, Verizon can hold all my calls! To wear a red coat full o' buckles, To earn a few duelling scars, Well, at least we can get a few chuckles By filling the office with ARRRs! And maybe we'll never get closer, Than watchin' 'em on the big screen, So here's to old Errol and Depp as Jack Sparrow, And every damn one in between! T' me, Yo, Ho, Yo, Ho, It's "Talk Like A Pirate" Day! That time in September when sea dogs remember That grown-ups still know how ta play! When wenches are curvy and dogs are all scurvy And a soft-wear patch covers your eye, Ta hell with our jobs, for one day we're all swabs And buccaneers all till we die! So hoist up the mainsils and shut down your brain cells, They only would get in the way, Avast there, me hearty, we're havin' a party, It's "Talk... Like... A Pirate" Day!
That waitress at Pete's who took so long to seat you, And left you to stand in the doorway, With her stringy red hair and her thousand-yard stare, In her mind, she's the Princess of Norway. As she takes down your order, she's crossing the fjord, her White stallion spits foam like a madman. Many Vikings have died trying to take her as bride, But her heart is reserved for a bad man. Rich fantasy lives. Somehow she survives in a world she contrives. Inhibited husbands and frustrated wives Lead rich fantasy lives. That guy from IT ressurects your PC With a boredom he barely suppresses. Though he rarely converses, he has more universes In his head than you've got addresses. He wargames through weekends, leads armies and legions. He doesn't care how well you putted. He's browsing reality's infinite palette, he's Seen yours, and yours doesn't cut it. Rich fantasy lives. He quietly thrives in a world he contrives. Techno-drone insects in cubicle hives Lead rich fantasy lives. We're piling up fears, but we're out of frontiers. Some need to escape, but there's nowhere. Can't go to the Moon, at least any time soon, But an inner-space trip costs you no fare. So don't be unkind to a wandering mind, Just say it again if we missed it. Some whispering poem was calling us home To a place we know never existed. Rich fantasy lives. Our peace-bonded knives and our hyperspace drives. Until that steam engine to Hogwarts arrives, We have rich fantasy lives. Rich fantasy lives. Our quests and our tribes and our Babylon Fives. Until something better than this world arrives, We'll lead rich fantasy lives. Rich fantasy lives.
Denouement 00:40
He was the Boy Who Lived underneath the stairs Till an owl came, answered all his prayers, Now Hogwarts School is his alma mater, He's the Gryffindor Seeker, and his name is Harry Potter! He got a lightning scar from Voldemort, Got a candy-lovin' Yoda named Dumbledore, Got it goin' with Hermione, 'cause no one's hotter, an' Pop Goes The Weasley, hangin out with Harry Potter! Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Po-


If you buy only one album this browsing session, well, it'll probably be Lady Gaga or somethin'. But you should really consider this one! It's got comedy, drama, dark sensuality, international conspiracies, mad science, Norwegian fishermen, auctions, alien invasion, cross-dressing, and more! And, it's a multilevel marketing extravaganza, with "Rock Me Amidala" from the independent film Saving Star Wars, the Transylvania Polygnostic University Fight Song from Girl Genius, the award-winning "Rich Fantasy Lives" (lyrics by Rob Balder [Partially Clips, ErfWorld], and the official chantey for Talk Like A Pirate Day, as well as a bonus track from Tom's gonna-be-finished-someday-really Skullrose and Tourmaline!


released November 5, 2004

Tom Smith: Vocals, MIDI Programming

Other Instrumentation:
Blue Ribbon Soundworks (SuperJAM!)
Hark Loops
PG Music (Band in a Box)
PLP Loops
Sony/Sonic Foundry Loops for Acid, including:
Paul Black - Cigarettes, Whiskey and Gumbo
Leo Cavallo - The Songwriter's Acoustic Guitar Companion
Mick Fleetwood - Total Drumming

Recorded and Engineered by Tom Smith
Produced by Tom Smith with Leslie Larkins and Anne Schneider

All music and lyrics © Tom Smith, except:

"Rock Me Amidala" and "Denouement" -- music: "Rock Me Amadeus" by Rob Bolland, Ferdi Bolland and Falco
(© 1985 Nada Music International CV [BUMA] and Manuskript [GEMA];
All rights administered on behalf of Nada Music International CV in the U.S. and Canada by Almo Music Corp [ASCAP])
This music is used under the Parody provisions of the Fair Use Doctrine, in accordance with Section 107 of the Copyright Act.

"Trans Poly U Fight Song" -- music: "Notre Dame Victory Song" by John F. Shea and Michael J. Shea (Edwin H. Morris & Co.)
This music is in the public domain within the United States of America, and protected by copyright in all territories outside the United States of America.

"Rich Fantasy Lives -- words: Rob Balder. Used with permission.

Girl Genius, Transylvania Polygnostic University, and Trans Poly U © and ™ Studio Foglio LLC. Used with permission.

Saving Star Wars © Woodworks Films. Used with permission. "Saving Star Wars" is a parody and is in no way authorized, sanctioned by or associated with "Star Wars", George Lucas, Lucasfilm, LTD, or 20th Century Fox.

Talk Like A Pirate Day (September 19th) created by Mark Summers and John Baur. Used with permission. ARRR!

Copyrighted materials and music remain the property of their original owners. No challenge to copyright is intended nor should be construed.

Special thanks to:
Anne Schneider
Bill Roper
Cap'n Slappy
Cheyenne Wright
Da Bear
Dad & Gert
Doug, Christy &
Grant Akira Johnson
Dr. Demento
Deep Fried Lemurs
Gary Wood
Harold Stein
Howard Harrison
Janet Coburn
Jezebel the Webwench
Kate Lawniczak
Leslie Larkins
Michael "Moonwolf" Longcor
Mom & Terry
Ol' Chumbucket
Ookla the Mok
Pat Stanley
Phil & Kaja Foglio
Prodipto Roy
Rob Balder
Steve Jackson
The Great Luke Ski
Trace Hagemann
Everybody at LiveJournal.com
and alt.fan.dragons
Filk Fandom in general,
and MillenniCon and OVFF
in particular

Visit Tom on the web at tomsmithonline.com
and filkertom.livejournal.com

And his partners for this album:




Tom Smith Ann Arbor

Weird Al with more books, JoCo with more jokes, Carlin with more Cthulhu. Since 1985, Tom Smith has been breaking hearts, minds, and laws of propriety and physics with his insane blend of sf/fantasy, Life With Computers, pop culture, politics, and puns. More than twenty albums later, he maintains the best is yet to come. ... more

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