some kind of conversation aka it's only rock n roll but we...
for the archive:
Jinx & Wytchcroft
Infinite Radio
by jinx
If you never had a dollar but you lived like a king
If you became a highwayman on Route 25
If you always found the loophole in everything
If you beat all the odds and came out alive
If you're a wandering minstrel in a parking lot mall
With a Spanish guitar and no which way to go
Maybe you'll find a home after all
On the infinite radio
There's a thousand vibrating kinds of light
Each one too clear to understand
Just listen close until you lose your sight
Someone's living a legend on an unknown band
If you think the stars come out in Hollywood
You ought to see the heavens in New Mexico
And Old Scratch's nightly sure is good
On the infinite radio
Maybe now it's been years, and it's time to go home
Maybe someone said something, and you stood alone
In the middle of the street, in sudden wonder
As it all fell down and you said, where will I go?
If you're turning in circles in a dustdevil haze
And you're squinting your eyes in confusion
And you miss the bright freedom of your wild young days
And you're thinking, was it all an illusion?
Well, just come on over to the hobo fire
With a beatup box broadcasting low
And huddle down close and listen through the night
To the infinite radio.
copyright jinx 2009
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Comments
Posted by: wytchcroft (wytchcroft)
Posted at: February 28th, 2009 09:00 pm (UTC)
no freakin' way!
too weird! ok, true story so listen up m'dear:)
a year ago - one of my best friends died quite suddenly..
At home i listened to a song of his called Lazy Joe, whilst reading two books, one on Joe Orton and one on Joe Meek (famed record producer of 50s and 60s who built radios for a hobby). My dead friend wasa scientist as well as a musician.
ok, so in my sleep (yes i nodded off with the song on rpt) i saw my friend on stage singing a song about Orton and Meek. THAT song was called INFINITE RADIO.
At the funeral, i told the story of the song because the nice part was that the fucker owed me a song as i had given him one of mine!:)
So... there you go.
And yes - i can send the lyrics if you wanna read 'em!
in fact bugger it, here you go!
Infinite Radio:
Oh joe, the boy from the radio
Oh joe, the boy from the radio
Singing with the static
Lost and ecstatic
The music of the spheres
Right here in the attic
Oh joe
Boy from the radio
Blow a hole
Through your radio
Let the north wind blow
Through your radio
Oh joe
The boy from the radio
Meets the girl with the crying eyes…
So you call yourself a writer
A lover not a fighter
And do you laugh at the sight of it all?
Well look what that moving finger scrawls
As the hammer falls…
Pack your troubles in a suitcase
Hold your brother in your arms
Reach for the spirits
The bottle and glass
It’s a helluva show,
Entertaining Mr Sloane
And picking up the devil
On your radio
Maybe the landlady will save you in the end
Forgive the fact that you can’t pay the rent
That you were born from the radio
Into the hell below
Oh joe
The boy from the radio
Oh joe
Wizard in a play house
A scientist at home
Listens to the infinite
Radio
Infinite radio, infinite radio
Infinite radio, infinite radio
Infinite radio, infinite radio
infinite.
wytch 2007
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the only recording of the song Infinite Radio by me is owned by my friend's widow (so steal away lurkers and listeners - trolls and stalkers!)...
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a song for you
there are some strange people walking through your house
tinkering with your keepsakes and souvenirs
how many playthings have they broken?
there are some strange people
listening to your voice
singing down that hollow telephone
listening to your voice
from an undisclosed location
and sounding so alone
some strange people
i see them shadowy smiles
dancing round your house like ghosts
dancing round your house like ghosts
oh come on
we can hit the open road
we know where the moon came down
we could sail the sea of pleasure
find some treasure for your crown
wouldn't it be just a great adventure
to rip right out of this goddamn town
there are some strange people walking through your house
dancing around like ghosts
some strange people think they own you
and they're dancing around like ghosts.
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thanks to the ever talented chalissa for permission to reproduce this dialogue.
love on!