Square One

(Some mumbling…) Pretty soon the hippies of today, will be the squares of tomorrow (01:39. Song 1) It was the echoing voices of the old ones Through thick steeled forests and over scorched earth Always just out of reach A murder of crows judged my every footstep My bones were frozen Penniless and entirely out of breath I washed my beautiful hands in the black market dog water trough But through it all the real stick in my spokes Was the torment of my dreams I fought of sleep with both fists and sometimes fire With no more than a blow gun I made from an exhausted pen I shot the stars out of the sky When each one fell sparkling to the ground I made wishes that never came true Apparitions of angels with angry eyes Appeared at each new moon My own ghost be gain whispering Trees died if I tried to climb them The decision was made for me To begin interpreting real life just as I would nightmares (More mumbling…) (03:50. Song 2) Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65 Watching an already dead world vanish We the banished and outlawed wander Hither and yonder Like dogs gone hungry Funky and angry and sometimes ugly Drums like drugs have turned us to scavengers Pathfinders, addicts and mathematicians Practitioners of black magic We make music from used up junk and bad luck dreams Liars and losers Emus and aardvarks Gypsies and pen thieves Peddlers, Card Sharks All of us fortune tellers home in the forest Hard core, building a cardboard fortress Forward fast and backwards blindfolded Trying to find gold buried in flood planes Covered in blood stains Fly bites and egg yolk Running away with one of my legs broke Sometimes it’s lonesome Traveling homeless Not knowing where you’re going Riding the railroads Pickups and sailboats Most of the loco-motives Once we decide to see some of the country side Working with circus Performers and cut-throats Discussions with perfectionists, perverts and poets Haven’t you ever heard of the… 1200 hoboes? We ain’t vampires dressed like rock stars We build campfires and ride box-cars Town to town, we just write songs And plus we stay up like all night long But we ain’t vampires dressed like rock stars We build campfires and ride box-cars Town to town, we just write songs And plus we stay up like all night long (05:18. Song 3 - "Phil", appeared on the other Buck's albums) 20 some years is a long walk Even if its not in a straight line You see a lot of things in the distance You know what they say about great minds You and I think about the same things Dream the same dreams Play the same games We started out in the same place Believe it or not we got the same names Everything happens for a good cause Whether it be victory or loss And the road may turn into a run way But you’ll know what to do someday Trust me I’ve seen it all before I’ve climbed to the tops of the tallest trees To get away from the deep water To find the touch of the smallest breeze You’ll find a girl with a low voice Who holds the world in her bare hands You’ll fall in love you’ll have no choice Once you are given a fair chance For the first time you will sleep well Take a deep breath See the sun shine Hold on to her for dear life And then watch the whole world unwind Ask her to show you some magic And I guarantee that she will say yes Tell her you’ve seen forever and You’ll be together not a day less Just know until that time comes And after you cross that first mile That the hardest part is behind you And all of the pain will be worthwhile From storm clouds come angels, let pain give you pleasure From dirt grows the flower, when faith can't be measured From storm clouds come angels, let pain give you pleasure From dirt grows the flower, when faith can't be measured (09:05. Song 4) I know a man who was born with his heart on the outside Every man's worst fear he also had heavy hands He couldn’t touch his lover's face He couldn’t hold a baby He would never desert them But he was worried he would hurt them maybe Mad at the world his face turned hot pink The best he could do was just try to not think But he was too bothered So he would only try rarely He read the last page of every book in the library He lacked the charisma Of a true revolutionary crime fighter Would try to write but kept breaking his typewriter He preaches manifesto like a militant radical Was diligent but his greatest mistakes were grammatical If he only spent more time rehearsing and preparing There wouldn’t have to be so much cursing and swearing Eyes on fire His volume was blistering No one had taught him about the power of whispering He is dynamite Blows kisses Eats dirt His mouth of a volcano He is a t-shirt He stands on stilts But doesn’t stand for funny stuff Ask me He just hasn’t been around the sun enough He paints self-portraits With a roller Only eats corn And then tries to sell his own soul On a street corner He always remembers everyone’s numbers And sometimes cries into his own cumbersome hands (Scratching... Mixes…) (11:38. Song 5) Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind And lord knows I try to close my eyes But it happens so fast I keep my eye on the ball But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall And like Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind And lord knows I try to close my eyes But it happens so fast I keep my eye on the ball But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall Read beginning to end and measured sideways I’ve traveled the length of your desert highways Been under your bed And slept in ditches I saw your scars Was kept in stitches To keep from crying I’m trying not to pay attention But as I may have mentioned I’m being held hostage I’m lost and exhausted I want to go home now But I’m too far gone And I don’t even know how The silent knight and tarnished armor Charming and harmful The charma chameleon Might get violent Dancing with shadows And playing charades It’s the minimal plan Of the invisible man And what’s it like Living life You may ask Standing on the other side A two way glass Well it’s not what it’s cracked up to be I’ll tell you that much You can look But you can’t touch Like Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind And lord knows I try to close my eyes But it happens so fast I keep my eye on the ball But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall And like Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind And lord knows I try to close my eyes But it happens so fast I keep my eye on the ball But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall All I want to do Is go fly a kite Or take a hike And try and keep myself From taking a flying leap There’s ringing in my ears Especially at night Kaleidoscopic visions of a cocaine cat fight People play parlor games Behind closed doors Secrets are sacred When nobody knows yours But somebody does You forgot about the bottom feeders The dirty rotten cheaters And all of the stock breeders Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind And lord knows I try to close my eyes But it happens so fast I keep my eye on the ball But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall And like Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind And lord knows I try to close my eyes But it happens so fast I keep my eye on the ball But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall