NOTES
All noises by CB, unless otherwise noted.
This project was fun to do!
Graphics & Pix: Beth Becker
Mastered by Scott Anthony at Storybook Sound, Maplewood, NJ
©2018 Chris Butler/All songs published by Future Fossil Music (BMI)
All rights reserved. Unauthorized duplication is probably inevitable, But is still a violation of applicable laws. Made in the USA.
Thank you, Frank Mauceri at Smog Veil.
The problem with the CD format is that for liner notes there is never enough…room.
PHYSICS
Original working title was “MY PHYSICS” = how my existential world works. That weird keyboarder-y thing is a Farfisa organ being turned off and on, BTW.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
should’ve fit i just should’ve tried should’ve backed down just should’ve lied should’ve turned my back on everything I knew was right
but reality has never applied to me never did, never will
should’ve played safe just should’ve known really should’ve left well enough alone
but reality has never applied to me…
really should choose should’ve been scared really should go really should care should’ve been here when I was over there
but reality has never applied to me…
should’ve faced facts should’ve had doubts should be ashamed should’ve sold out really should’ve learned what the hell it’s all about
now it doesn’t take a genius to see just how things are but it takes a lot of sweat to forget everything you’ve learned so far
but reality has never applied to me…
SONGS FOR GUYS
About an imaginary crush on a female bass player. Another weird sort of keyboard effect – this one is a Stylophone 250.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
the music ad read “wanted: a good-looking girl to kick around, bass playing a plus” but she auditioned in t-shirt that read “ignore me at your peril”, so soon she was driving the bus somehow I got on her mailing list so I go out and see her play whenever I can
she fills the club with estrogen and the women all nod, but I don’t get it so I keep going back, ‘cause I want to understand
she doesn’t write songs for guys but she jumps in my head and crawls around, ‘round, ‘round
I know a lot of really great women brilliant and witty, full of talent and passion but when she straps on that Fender Precision she lays down a fog of enigmas and questions
I don’t think that she is mad at the world or that somebody hurt her in unspeakable ways her boyfriend’s a graphic designer, so she’s not a man-hater I’ve met him, he’s okay
she plays a lot in Boston I guess they like her in Boston but that’s no big deal they’ll like anything in Boston
she fills the club with estrogen…
she doesn’t write songs for guys her words are like walls, keeping us outside she’s got a lot of wisdom, but it’s very well disguised or it’s none of my business, or maybe she declines to air a private conversation that he will not compromise
she doesn’t write songs for guys but she scratches my head from the inside
NEW ENEMY
About the exquisite pleasure of needling somebody until they lose it. 8-string bass and 12-string guitars for something sonically interesting. Repeat percussion telegraph key one-finger organ.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
open your mouth and let winter out move your lips, move your tongue about assemble noises to match your feelings, please mind-reading just is not in my genes…
and pack up that evil Italian digit save it for when your folks come to visit talk American, dammit, it’s the language of liars if hate were people, you’d be China I said… if hate were people, you’d be China…
I can smell your anger I can taste your die, you bastard…die I can hear your head go tick…tick…tick
any moment now any moment now pop!…black butterfly
I’ve got all the friends I need I’ve got all the friends I need
I’ve got all the friends I need I could use a New Enemy, though…
how interesting, this transformation you’re more complex than I imagined cruel below, courtly above almost there, one last shove…
I can smell your anger I can taste your die, you bastard…die I can see your head go tick…tick…tick
any moment now any moment now hello!…black butterfly
SUMMER MONEY
Written in the dead of an “I swear I’m not gonna spend another winter in Ohio.” Visualizing that feeling in August when you know the seasons have just tipped over and tho there is plenty of summer left, that slow slide has begun. And you know that quip that goes “What a beautiful day! Someone must’ve paid the weather bill”? Well, you pay it with summer money.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
Now this old chair In my backyard Is my anywhere For the next few hours
The summer sun Is my only church And from this pew I pray for better flowers
Got the taste of heat On the tip of my tongue But it’s liar’s sweat From a chore I should have done
Yes, I should mow the lawn But it’ll just grow back
I lick scoops of green Thick as winter honey Like summer money
31 flavors, all taste like summer money.
Swingin’ on the hinge Where the seasons flip I start losing light And the brown begins
I curse its coming That bruising Slide to white
But I won’t trade Places with anybody I’ve got it made I’ve got grace I’ve got summer money.
LATE FOR WORK
“Yeah, I wanna stay home and make love, but I’ve got this job…”
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
You swore six weeks ago You’d teach me the Korean Lean But you got busy and I got busy So we tagged it with a TBD
I would’ve looked dumb anyway And I’ve still got a little shred of pride Any excuse tho to watch you Wear out a dress from the inside Look at you!
You make the morning sunrise jealous Standing by the kitchen stove With your low slung gunfighter coffee cup Daring the day to make one false move
Girly girlicious girlattude A mountain of girliosity What’s it like to wake up each day And be that lovely? Wow, look at you!
I ran after you like a man late for work yes, and I love my job and I’m crazy about you but baby I’ll be late I can’t I can’t…I can’t be late for work again
Remember that summer, down the shore? At Cape Something Whozzy Whatzit? All those cocao butter brown bodies broilin’ honey of thigh, perk of tit? Naw, I don’t remember any of it ‘Cept your swimsuit didn’t fit You kept poppin’ out of it Floppin’ out of it Nice job, God!
I ran after you like a man late for work Not like your late for an exam in a class you can’t stand in a useless subject that you’ll never use again
Not like it’s April 14th and your taxes aren’t done and it’s been a bad year so no refund anyway
I ran after you like a man late for work But I can’t be late for work again.
DROMOMANIA (WIND IN MY SHOES)
An old wanderer makes fun of a tourist who tries to go native, but fails miserably. For Bruce Chatwin, author of “Song Lines”.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
Runaway sun, renegade palm trees Edge of the map, a man with a suitcase Copa No Place
Paints up his skin, tries to go native Aches for Gauguin, barely makes Gilligan Desperation
All the whores in the hotel bar Takin’ bets on just how far This pup ain’t goin’
And the whores say “ooh, novice castaway” “Your a mortgage note in a nomad’s way” “Ooh, passport’s stamped marooned” “But you’ve got a back to go back to” “You ain’t got the wind in your shoes”
This island’s a slum, tin shacks and sand fleas Put a shell to your ear, still hear the city Headache movie I should’ve past this sand trap by But when your wallet’s dry, ya can’t gypsy
And the gypsies say “ooh, go home wounded guest” “Don’t ask us strays how to build a nest” “Ooh, that’s a lost desire ‘cause we’re running sick and the dream’s gone sour” “You ain’t got the wind in your shoes”
But the Gotta Go Breeze blows harder and harder And ooh it’s so contagious Jets whine my name, train whistles it too Everyone’s smiling on the posters… The only reason we are still not running around on all fours is so we can look up and read the departure monitor
The mission’s on fire, heathens and pagans Down in the swamp, Venus is bathing Fever season Tell the rebels in the hills, take a break until I sell Someone a ticket’s worth of something
Ooh, a nightmare’s haunting me I grow roots, become a tree I bud poetry But then a concrete flood buries me
Ooh, where’s my masterpiece? I wrote it down on a banana leaf Ooh, move on, wounded guest Damn, a wave just soaked my cigarettes That’s okay, I’ve got the wind in my shoes.
MOMMY GLOW
“No babies for me, darlin’…”. Used an actual sonogram recording as a click track to set the tempo.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
Sure, I can meet you on your lunch hour If you want to discuss What’s in our future and are we an us
Clogging the cafe, all smug and serene A million new mothers, the breeders convene
I trip over strollers on the way to the john And over the future consumers they’ve spawned Polluters they’ve spawned It’s just so wrong, how can they want this? Ya squirt one, and it’s oh, mommy glow Ya swap your life, just for some mommy glow
I grew up poisoned, the message was clear I was a problem, just ‘cause I was there Now how come these women don’t know what I know? That blame comes after the mommy glow? They’ll resent their kid, after the mommy glow
So what’s on your mind, my sweet Island of Joy? Aren’t they pathetic, and don’t they annoy? But she eyes them with envy, and then turns to me Her expression’s a question And I choke on my tea When it dawns on me
Oh God, she wants one, or two, if not three or five
But children ruin your life And ya grow up poisoned, the message is clear You are a problem, just ‘cause you are there And I won’t repeat that, so the answer is no I’m sorry, but no mommy glow I won’t hate some kid, just for your mommy glow.
NICOTINE WEATHER
How crazy and disassociated one gets when trying to quit smoking. A song for Tin Huey, with an imitation Mark Price bass solo.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
here’s a disturbance in the population
when viewed from above, it seems to start from a single point, then spread around in a kind of moire pattern.
I’m detached, so I observe…
that things turn brown too fast parts fall off your body at an alarming rate.
you lose…the cork
people get pesky, snappish - appointments are made, but when you finally meet, and you say ‘hi’ and they snarl “get your mind out of my pants, you crotch-sniffin’ dog”
no one has the right wardrobe and whatcha got itches like feathers people jump out of their clothes (when it’s) nicotine weather
but then I notice, these ripples and swirls are coming from me
i’m not above it. I’m in it
so I mutate… and I get hit with indescribable joy.
there is no ‘no’. I coin new words like “exploricans” or “”. I get what I wish for, with no unintended consequences
I am well-paid, well-fed, well-fucked and well-respected I go to a go-go
I twist the night away
I have…a clue I have…an inkling I have…a faintest idea I have…a foggy notion I have…a thing to wear…
I’m approved…i get permission for…whatever there is no bad news when it’s nicotine weather
then everything flips…
rain rain’s up night follows day, instead of day following night
time - supposedly a constant - speeds way up in the morning, but slows way down at night
wild poets suddenly get quiet women leave their waterbottles at home. somebody moves your chair
you pray that your kid does not have any talent. that if they call him kike, or nigger or pollack, he lets it slide…but if they call ya ‘unique’ = punch ‘em in the nose, Junior! and may you be a golf-playing, Republican accountant/if you want art…buy it.
you get the pain to exactly like you like it or at least to you feel better
it’s Christmas…it’s Utopia/Vegas…it’s nicotine weather.
AWAKE
A pun on the word “wake”. Get it?
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
INTRO
VERSE sitting on a sofa named Sven simulated leather artificial conversation maybe we’ve met, but we’re not sure when.
I really didn’t want to come It was more of an obligation I really didn’t know her that well’she was more of a friend of a friend of a friend Of a friend, of a friend….
BRIDGE Oh no… She always spoke highly of you (she said) I can tell him anything, anything you should meet him, you should she said you were cool she said “He’s my best girlfriend” “my best girlfriend”
REINTRO
VERSE wow’she said that ‘bout me? I’m touched I really should’ve brought a dish of something But I can see there’s already too much I never know what to bring these days Vegetarians should be shot! No…I didn’t know she was vee-gan Guess it’s better that I forgot… ‘to bring something
BRIDGE She always spoke highly of you I can tell him anything, absolutely anything you should meet him, you should she said you were cool she said “He’s my best girlfriend” “girlfriend”
CHORUS I guess that’s who I am So send me all your damaged, dinged up girls And I’ll gloo ‘em back together again Whatever’s left over, I’ll keep for myself Until I get enough, to be to be something other than a wrong-righter, a wrong-righter
VERSE Watch where you park your glass Everything’s so expensive Maybe we should mingle? That clam stuff looks…edible
How late are you gonna stay? Wanna get a drink or coffee later? Give a sign if you wanna slip away You know that thing with your hand No, the other thing…
LAST BRIDGE: You know’she always spoke highly of you, too (she said) I can tell her anything, absolutely anything you should meet her, you should she said you were cool she said ’she’s my best boyfriend” “my best boyfriend”
CHORUS I guess that’s who I am So send me all your bitter, banged-up boys And I’ll gloo ‘em back together again Whatever’s left over, I’ll keep for myself Until I get/know enough, to be to be something other than a wrong-righter, a wrong-righter
CODA She called as I was going to bed I couldn’t hang up It would’ve been rude I’ve got this really big problem, she said And I knew you’d be awake ‘cause you don’t work, Tell me all about it, I’m ready to listen Tell me all about it, I’m ready to listen I can fix anything, absolutely anything
You think so?? Ok’so how do you know if you’re dead? How do you know if you’re dead? I think I might be dead… How do you know if you’re dead?
NEVER BEEN OLD BEFORE
“Put down that phone, Junior, and listen and look up - I’m gonna show you the wonders of the world.” Sax: Taylor McIntosh. Backing vocals by Half Cleveland’s Harvey Gold, Friday Mike Wilkinson and Taylor McIntosh.
INTRO
if you say you’re bored then you’re not paying attention
VERSE1
Hey kid, look at this! Ya ever seen one of these before? They’re stoopid rare, almost extinct Or they don’t make ‘em anymore
Maybe you read about it, heard about it? Saw it on a TV show? You can spend a lifetime lookin’ for ONE Then it’s gone before you know
If I seem a little pushy More rushed than I should be [it’s] ‘cause what I do with you for the first time could be the last time for me… last time for me… [HARMONY]
INTRO REPRISE
if you say you’re bored….
VERSE2
I don’t know how to do this I’ve never been old before But when I show you something cool Do you get how lucky we are?
If I go a little nutz Tryin’ to pass on what I know Even if it’s something I’ve done a thousand times I JUST WANNA MAKE SURE YOU GET IT!
If I seem a little pushy More rushed than I should be [it’s] ‘cause what I do with you for the first time could be the last time for me…
last time for me… [HARMONY] X 3
Your just too young to know this, But time roars by so fast [So] If I catch you being blasé I’m gonna kick your ass
IF YOU SAY YOU’RE BORED THEN YOU’RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION IF YOU SAY YOU’RE BORED YOU’RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION
RISE
E
this is The Who on Shindig! that’s a Bugati…Atlantique Eat this Red Jacket apricot! Listen! That’s ‘telstar‘$1&lrquo;‘$1&lrquo;by Joe Meek!
F#
Let’s watch “Casablanca”! That’s a real…T-Rex bone Michaelangelo carved this statue From a single…block of stone
G#
They landed a rocket on comet! This is the Cabaret Voltaire That’s the only building left From the 1939… World’s Fair
F
Can you believe the Wright Bros. got this flimsy’thing to fly? We’re gonna sit here under the Eiffel Tower And just look at it!
G
Taste this ham from Barcelona This is Ringo’s‘$1&lrquo;Ludwig kit This is metric, that’s standard So no’they won’t fit.
A
Wait ‘til you see Fallingwater Starboard’s right, left is port Gonna teach ya how to change a tire. I was right here…on May 4th
if you say you’re bored…
BITCH BOX
A treatise on my usual sunny disposition.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
YOU TELL ME I’VE GOT A MOUTH ON ME THAT I SHOULD SHUT IT AND COUNT MY BLESSINGS YOU KNOW THAT STORY ‘BOUT THE HALF-FILLED GLASS WELL, ALL I SEE IS THE HAF THAT’S MISSIG
YOU TELL ME I’M SUPPOSED TO LET THINGS GO DON’T BE SO PICK AND ACCEPT IMPERFECTION LEARN TO LOVE ALL THE CRACKS AND THE FLAWS NO - GIVING LIP IS MY ONLY WEAPON
BITCH BOX, YEAH THAT’S MY NAME YOU’VE GOT A RIGHT TO BE SILENT I’VE GOT A RIGHT TO COMPLAIN MAYBE OUT OF THIS HELL IF YOU SAY I SHOULDN’T BITCH YOU DON’T KNOW ME VERY WELL
YOU TELL ME HAPPINESS IS A CHOICE THAT HANGING ROUND ME IS JUST TOO TOXIC I’M JUST A BUNDLE OF GRUMBLES AND GRIPES ANOTHER CYNICAL CRUSHED ROMANTIC
BITCH BOX LIKE THERE’S SOMEWHERE TO GO? DON’T TELL ME THINGS ARE GOOD ‘CAUSE I KNOW IT ISN’T SO
SOMEHOW I ALWAYS GET IT WRONG SOMEHOW THE FAULT’S ALWAYS MINE REPEATING PATTERNS THAT FAIL SINCE 1949
BITCH BOX I DO THE WORLD A SERVICE BY TAKING ALL THE BLAME BE GLAD YOU’RE NOT ME I’M CHRIS BUTLER SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE.
BETTER THAN I EVER WAS
I’m still here. Wobbly, but still standing. And not doing too badly, either. Reeds by Marc Paige, whom I reconnected with after what?…forty years? Harvey Gold from Tin Huey/Half Cleveland on organ. Thanks to Colin John for lending me his Telecaster. Mixed by Jeff Koval at Sta-Level Studio, Akron, OH.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
VERSE1 all of the dumb things that i’ve ever done. now just add up to who i’ve become
(and) all of the bad breaks that i’ve ever had now count as wisdom…and didn’t screw me up that bad
it’s kind of amazing, I could get so much wrong but still land on my feet…and right where I belong
everything worked out…maybe it usually does…? ‘cause damn, here I am… and better than I ever was…
VERSE2 all of the dead ends that i’ve stumbled down turns out I just had the map upside-down
and all of the bullshit that I took on faith is all pretty funny, and didn’t get in my way
it’s kind of amazing, the messes i’ve made when my best intentions, back-fired in my face
(but) it all worked out…guess it usually does…? ‘cause damn, here I am… and better than I ever was…
SOLO/MIDDLE 8
it’s a victory to get up each day surprised I’m alive….
everyone wrote me off sure i’d never survive
VERSE all of the hard knocks I took on the chin all of the races that I didn’t win
don’t seem to matter, ‘cause nothing was lost nobody was counting, and I didn’t kill myself off
something sustained me when I lost my nerve the friends who forgave me, when I was such a jerk
got a body that’s banged up and a head full of fuzz but damn, here I am… and better than I ever was…
• THE WHIRLAWAY
Demo. About living on borrowed time. Korg Poly 800 for a keyboard/Oberheim DMX for drums/Rockman for guitar.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
GRAY SUNDAY…NAMELESS SEA SOUR, DIRT BROWN I KNOW THIS PLACE I OWE A LOT TO THIS PLACE THIS IS WERE DEBTS ARE PAID EVERYTHING IS ONLY A LOAN, ANYWAY
UP, UP CLIFF, ICY, WINDING UP, UP I BIRD, I ROCK, I WATER I TRADE, I OFFER BARTER WITH THE WHIRLAWAY DEAL WITH THE WHIRLAWAY THE WHIRLAWAY
GRAY SUNDAY…NAMELESS WAVES CRUSH TENDER SECONDS COLD TERMS FOR EXTRA MOMENTS TIDE SWELL SPRAYS A PROMISE OF SCRAP TIME, PAWNED MINUTES STOLEN FROM THE WHIRLAWAY GRAY SUNDAY…NAMELESS
BUT I USE IT WELL I WASTE NONE OF IT YOU’LL WANT IT BACK OK, IT WAS YOURS TO BEGIN WITH I’LL DESERVE MORE BUT THAT’S A USELESS ARGUMENT
I’LL COME BACK TO SETTLE UP THAT’S NOT FORGOTTEN I’LL KEEP MY SIDE OF THE BARGAIN THOSE ROCKS WON’T LOOK SO HARD WHEN I IMAGINE PILLOWS OR FEATHERS OR WARM HANDS HOLDING ME SURRENDER TO MY DESTINY/cash in what don’t belong to me TURN AROUND…LAST LOOK…BLUE FLAG FLYING STEP BACK BACK INTO THE WHIRLAWAY
• TOUCH OF GRAY
Demo. A song about my grandfather. Dates from the mid ‘80’s, so predates The Dead song with the same title.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
COULD YOU SPEAK UP, CHILD? DID YOU SAY “TEARS” OR “YEARS”? LET’S JUST SAY I’M BREATHIN’ CAUSE IN THE COUNTING AND RECALLING NUMBERS LOSE THEIR MEANING I’M OLD…THAT’S ALL
CAME BY STEERAGE 1894 IN THE NOISE AND CONFUSION “DUBLITZ” BECAME “DAWSON” THREW MY NAME IN THE HUDSON SO I COULD GO ASHORE
STARTED THINKING IN ENGLISH BECAME A CITIZEN BUT FOR MY MARRIAGE…TRADITION! ASKED HER FATHER’S PERMISSION FIFTY YEARS WITH ONE WOMAN TWENTY-FIVE ALONE
OH, I DON’T KNOW HOW WISE YOU’LL GET LISTENING TO MY EXPERIENCES WE OLD FOLKS CLAIM TO BE THAT WAY WISDOM IS JUST MEMORY WITH A TOUCH OF GRAY
NEVER MISSED A RALLY AT MY UNION HALL TOO SHY TO BE A SPEAKER JUST A MARCHER, NOT A LEADER BUT I LEFT MY PRESS IN MID-STROKE WHEN THE STRIKE WAS CALLED
SAVED OUR HOUSE FROM THE BANKER THE WORLD HAD CRASHED TO DUST EVEN AN HONEST MAN GETS DESPERATE… I’LL TELL YOU A SECRET WE MADE WINE IN THE BASEMENT A LITTLE…NOT MUCH
TWICE I BLACKED OUT MY WINDOWS SHOULD THE BOMBERS COME TWICE THE FLAGS AND THE CHEERING TURNED TO WREATHS AND MOURNING THE ONLY TWO TIMES I WAS GLAD I’D HAD NO SONS
OH, I DON’T KNOW HOW STRONG YOU’LL GET LISTENING TO MY EXPERIENCES WE OLD FOLKS CLAIM TO BE THAT WAY BUT STRENGTH IS JUST STUBBORNESS WITH A TOUCH OF GRAY
WHEN YOU MEANT ME WHEN YOU SAID “GRANDPA” I CRIED FOR DAYS BUT TEARS WERE WASTING THE TIME I HAD REMAINING YES, I BURIED MY HEROES BUT OUTLIVED MY ENEMIES
OH, I DON’T KNOW HOW RICH YOU’LL GET LISTENING TO MY EXPERIENCES I SURE CAN’T CLAIM TO BE THAT WAY OH, WHAT ARE THE RIGHT WORDS TO SAY?
BECAUSE YOU CAN BE BETTER THAN ME OUTSHINE MY LITTLE VICTORIES JUST KNOW THAT AND I’LL BE CONTENT MY WEALTH’S JUST HOPEFULNESS WITH A TOUCH OF GRAY
• BETTER THAN I EVER WAS
Demo. Guitars instead of saxes. Key of A, not G as in the final version.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
VERSE1 all of the dumb things that i’ve ever done. now just add up to who i’ve become
(and) all of the bad breaks that i’ve ever had now count as wisdom…and didn’t screw me up that bad
it’s kind of amazing, I could get so much wrong but still land on my feet…and right where I belong
everything worked out…maybe it usually does…? ‘cause damn, here I am… and better than I ever was…
VERSE2 all of the dead ends that i’ve stumbled down turns out I just had the map upside-down
and all of the bullshit that I took on faith is all pretty funny, and didn’t get in my way
it’s kind of amazing, the messes i’ve made when my best intentions, back-fired in my face
(but) it all worked out…guess it usually does…? ‘cause damn, here I am… and better than I ever was…
SOLO/MIDDLE 8
it’s a victory to get up each day surprised I’m alive….
everyone wrote me off sure i’d never survive
VERSE all of the hard knocks I took on the chin all of the races that I didn’t win
don’t seem to matter, ‘cause nothing was lost nobody was counting, and I didn’t kill myself off
something sustained me when I lost my nerve the friends who forgave me, when I was such a jerk
got a body that’s banged up and a head full of fuzz but damn, here I am… and better than I ever was…
• CURIOUS GIRLS
From the early ‘90’s. A non-sequitur song. My just-for-fun attempt at writing a big, synth-laced, hit single. All expensive machines except the guitar part. Guest vocals by pal George Gilmore from The Tall Lonesome Pines.
©2018 CHRIS BUTLER/FUTURE FOSSIL MUSIC (BMI)
(it’s a cold cruel world and it’s always the hardest on curious girls)
Verse 1 ANY SECOND NOW, YOU’LL DASH/DIVE FOR THE DOOR I KNOW THE SYMPTOMS, I’VE SEEN ‘EM BEFORE
ANOTHER MAN’S BEHIND THE DOUBT IN YOUR FACE DID YOU SETTLE FOR “GOOD”…WHEN YOU COULD’VE HAD “GREAT”?
Bridge 1 BUT HE’S AN ILLUSION, JUST A DIRTY JOKE COMES ON LIKE FIRE, GOES RIGHT UP IN SMOKE
MAYBE I’M NOT PERFECT, WON’T FIND THAT ANYWHERE LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE GONNA LEARN THAT THE HARD WAY, MY DEAR
Chorus 1 CAUSE IT’S A COLD, CRUEL WORLD AND IT’S ALWAYS THE HARDEST ON CURIOUS GIRLS
YES, IT’S A COLD, CRUEL WORLD AND IT’S ALWAYS THE ROUGHEST ON CURIOUS GIRLS
I WON’T LAUGH AT YOU, YOU’LL BE FORGIVEN CURIOUS GIRL IT’S A COLD, CRUEL WORLD AND IT’S ALWAYS THE CRUELEST TO CURIOUS GIRLS
Bridge 2 IMAGINATION…GETS THE UPPER HAND I UNDERSTAND THAT…NATURAL IN A WOMAN
WRESTLE WITH RESTLESS, YOU KNOW WHAT’S BEST FOR YOU GET IT OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM, DO WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO DO
Chorus 2 BUT IT’S A COLD, CRUEL WORLD AND IT’S ALWAYS THE HARDEST ON CURIOUS GIRLS
YES, IT’S A COLD, CRUEL WORLD AND IT’S ALWAYS THE MEANEST TO CURIOUS GIRLS
NO “I TOLD YOU SO’S”, YOU’LL BE FORGIVEN CURIOUS GIRL
YES, IT’S A COLD, CRUEL WORLD AND IT’S ALWAYS THE CRUELEST TO CURIOUS GIRLS
Verse 2 NO, NO, NO NOT GONNA GET ANGRY…I’M SURE OF MYSELF DON’T FEEL THREATENED, BY ANYONE ELSE
YOU DON’T MEAN TO HURT ME, BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU? WHEN FANTASIES CRUMBLE, LIKE THEY ALWAYS DO?
Bridge 3 DON’T BE DISAPPOINTED, SHAMED YOU WERE DOIN’ WRONG WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR, WAS HERE ALL ALONG
KINDNESS IS BLINDNESS, WE’LL OVERLOOK ALL THAT COME TO YOUR SENSES…THEN COME ON BACK