tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-132706982011-04-21T12:44:45.598-07:00Online source for lyrics and stories of vocalist/songwriter, Ithaka Darin Pappas, aka Korvorowng) including his hip hop classic "ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS" (from the album Flowers And The Color of Paint) which appeared in Columbia Pictures', The Replacement Killers which was directed by Antoine Fuqua (Training Day, King Arthur, Brooklyn's Finest, Escobar) and starred Mira Sorvino, Chow Yun Fat and Clifton Collins Jr,sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-8679675078988273562007-09-22T13:05:00.000-07:002007-09-22T13:06:29.300-07:00ITHAKA: "Saltwater Nomad" lyrics<br />c. 2007 Ravenshark Music (ASCAP)<br />Administered by Scion Four Music, NY<br /><br /><br /><br />1. <br />ITH INTRO<br />:::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::<br /><br />2.<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />Words: Ithaka Music:Tito Gomes<br />Introducing: Pilar Sla (vocals on chorus)<br />Produced by Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />A SPLIT PERSONALITY - A SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />THE GIRLIE YOU SEE- NO, AIN’T ALWAYS WHO SHE BE<br /><br />A SPLIT PERSONALITY - A SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SHE’S ALWAYS RIGHT, BETTER NOT DISAGREE<br /><br />A SPLIT PERSONALITY - A SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SAYS SHE ADORES ME, BUT WANTS TO DESTROY ME<br /><br />A SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />A SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />A SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />When I wake up in the morning<br />Never know who I’ll be with<br /><br />Not cuz of lack of fidelity<br />But because her bi-polarity<br /><br />Tomatoe-Tomato, Patato-Patatoe<br />If weirdness was money, she’d done won the Lotto<br /><br />Her moods flip on and off like a switch<br />From Jeckyl and Hyde, from princess to stone-cold witch<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />“Where do you want to eat my precious Baby-Boo ?”<br />“I’m easy, but how about some fish tacos from Wahoo’s”<br /><br />And I swear steam came out of her mouth, she started to drool<br />“Why do we always have to eat where YOU want to ?!?!?!?”<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />THE GIRLIE YOU SEE- NO, AIN’T ALWAYS WHO SHE BE<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SHE’S ALWAYS RIGHT, BETTER NOT DISAGREE<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SAYS SHE ADORES ME, BUT WANTS TO DESTROY ME<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />She’s both water and acid<br />Both wasabi and molasses<br /><br />Both a sinner and a saint<br />Gives both praise and complaints<br /><br />Both a fighter and a lover<br />Both obvious and undercover<br /><br />She’s a friend, also a foe<br />Funny as hell, but can be a bore<br /><br />And sometimes she bring up shit <br />that happened months before……….<br /><br />“I saw you staring at that ho at the record store”<br /><br />“but, Sugar that was way back last year in September”<br />“Oh..I GET IT ..you think I’m TOO dumb to remember ! “<br /><br />A SPLIT PERSONALITY<br /><br /><br />She’s both angelic and diabolic<br />Both health-nut and borderline alcoholic<br /><br /><br />But deep down is she mad, sad or is she happy ?<br />I’ve known her three years and it’s still a mystery.<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />THE GIRLIE YOU SEE- NO, AIN’T ALWAYS WHO SHE BE<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SHE’S ALWAYS RIGHT, BETTER NOT DISAGREE<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SAYS SHE ADORES ME, BUT WANTS TO DESTROY ME<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />“Honey, what skirt do you think that I should wear?”<br />“Babydoll, I think you should wear <br /> that short blue one over there”<br /><br />“You #@%*ing bastard, don’t tell me how to dress !<br />Well, who do you think you are, THE KING OF ATLANTIS ?!”<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />But if it’s so bad, why don’t I leave?<br />…least that’s what most people ask<br /><br />But remember, a man will cross a desert <br />without water for world-class ass<br /><br />She’s that hot- SMOKING,Glowing like red-hot coals<br />Making even the one and only Princess Knowles<br />Look moldy and old<br /><br />And when she’s nice, hell….it just doesn’t much better<br />And never a dull moment, be impossible to ever forget her<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />THE GIRLIE YOU SEE- NO, AIN’T ALWAYS WHO SHE BE<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SHE’S ALWAYS RIGHT, BETTER NOT DISAGREE<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY - SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SAYS SHE ADORES ME, BUT WANTS TO DESTROY ME<br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br />SPLIT PERSONALITY<br />SPLIT PERSONALITY <br /><br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br /><br />3.<br />A MILLION LIGHT YEARS<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka featuring Livia Brisa<br />Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />Two months of euphoria, that was the story of…<br />The birds and the bees of the Beast and Beauty<br /><br />No wasn’t exactly looking, wasn’t exactly alone<br />Was happy enough just to be in the tropic zone<br /><br />South of the equator. Objective: record<br />RECORDED IN RIO, otherwise known as Ithaka -album four<br /><br />But chance encounter at a little beach outside of town<br />My day off from the mic and wadn’t a lot of folk around<br /><br />I’m thinking about you…..you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />I’m thinking about you. Are you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />Hollow A-frame shacks –had the place to myself<br />Pit after pit – with only god to witness<br /><br />Then paddled out a cutie in a blue swimsuit<br />Her aura radiating, her beauty absolute<br /><br />Goddess-like complexion, wavy hair<br />Beautiful from marrow out to exterior<br /><br />She had a rock-hard body and rode a bodyboard<br />Stole three waves from me…that alone could’ve led to war<br /><br />I’m thinking about you….. you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />I’m thinking about you. Are you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />A MILLION LIGHT YEARS CAN’T KEEP US APART<br />CUZ WE CONNECTED BY OUR MINDS<br />WE CONNECTED BY OUR HEARTS<br /><br />A MILLION LIGHT YEARS CAN’T KEEP US APART<br />CUZ WE CONNECTED BY OUR MINDS<br />WE CONNECTED BY OUR HEARTS<br /><br />A MILLION LIGHT YEARS CAN’T KEEP US APART<br />CUZ WE CONNECTED BY OUR MINDS<br />WE CONNECTED BY OUR HEARTS<br /><br />I was hypnotized by her exotic eyes, her glowing smile<br />(And) the way she rode the barrel with her mermaid style<br /><br />I could only stare, I could not speak<br />And I must’ve looked like some kind of circus freak<br /><br />But a voice from the sky called to me at that moment<br />Said, Ithaka - that’s Brisa, your soulmate –don’t blow it<br /><br />My words were few, but at least got the number<br />Carved the digits into the wax of my 6’4” Thruster<br /><br />I’m thinking about you……. you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />I’m thinking about you. Are you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />And when I called her underwater-cell to arrange a meeting<br />She picked it up before it rang and said,<br /> Let’s meet in Ipanema<br /><br />When we met on land, there was inevitability<br />I was her shark, she was my fish - from now until eternity<br /><br />Deeper than flesh, was attraction of spirit<br />Two entities. Destiny: eternal living<br /><br />Incredibly adorable. Conversation enjoyable.<br />Geographically improbable, but the chemistry remarkable.<br /><br />Electricity flowed everyday, twenty-four hours<br />She brought color to my life, like an iridescent flower<br /><br />I’m thinking about you…. you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />I’m thinking about you. Are you thinking about me?<br />Memories wandering above the mountains and the sea.<br /><br />EVEN A MILLION LIGHT YEARS CAN’T KEEP US APART<br />CUZ WE CONNECTED BY OUR MINDS<br />WE CONNECTED BY OUR HEARTS<br /><br />A MILLION LIGHT YEARS CAN’T KEEP US APART<br />CUZ WE CONNECTED BY OUR MINDS<br />WE CONNECTED BY OUR HEARTS<br /><br />A MILLION LIGHT YEARS CAN’T KEEP US APART<br />CUZ WE CONNECTED BY OUR MINDS<br />WE CONNECTED BY OUR HEARTS<br /><br />A MILLION LIGHT YEARS CAN’T KEEP US APART<br />CUZ WE CONNECTED BY OUR MINDS<br />WE CONNECTED BY OUR HEARTS<br /><br />We connected by our hearts<br /><br /><br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />4.<br />LUST: THE POWER SUPREME<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />I said, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />Yes, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br /><br />People brave for lust. People pay for lust.<br />People slave for lust. Even pray for lust.<br />People spy for lust. People lie for lust.<br />People fry for lust. Yes, people die for lust.<br />An’ get busy for lust. An’ get silly for lust.<br />An’ accuse for lust. An’ get bruised for lust.<br />Stop time for lust. Leave wives for lust.<br />Commit crimes for lust. Ruin their lives for lust.<br /><br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />I said, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />Yes, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br /><br />People travel for lust. Shovel gravel for lust.<br />Eat dust for lust. Trust too much for lust.<br />Conceal for lust. Get imbecile for lust.<br />Steal for Lust. Make deals for lust.<br />Purify for lust. Beautify for lust.<br />Annoy for Lust. Destroy for lust.<br />Get afflicted by lust. Get evicted for lust.<br />Get addicted to lust. Get convicted for lust.<br /><br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />I said, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />Yes, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br /><br />People choke for lust. Go broke for lust.<br />Provoke for lust. Get yolked for lust.<br />Change their face for lust. Violate for lust.<br />Embezzle for lust. Befriend the devil for lust.<br />Gain fame for lust. Hijack planes for lust.<br />Suicide for lust. Genocide for lust.<br />…as far as the eye can see,<br /> lust is the power supreme<br /><br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />I said, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />Yes, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br /><br />For better or for worse<br /><br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />I said, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br />Yes, <br />LUST IS THE POWER SUPREME<br /><br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br /><br />5.<br />THE LIFE YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />I only ask of y’all<br />what I ask of myself………….<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br /><br />Here and now – limited hours on earth<br />Make the most of yours – recognize time’s worth<br />Formulate somethin’ solid just for you…<br />BEFORE this crazy ball splits in two<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA YOU LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br /><br />Do you accomplish the things you set out to do ?<br />Did you realize the dreams you had when you were twenty-two ?<br /><br />Do you keep responsibility – MINORITY ?<br />Do you keep freedom n liberty - PRIORITY ?<br /><br />Do you get back on your feet when you take a fall ?<br />Do you stand up proud ? Do you stand up tall ?<br />Did ya end up with the girl you lost sleep over ?<br />Or did ya get out of bed with a deadly hangover ?<br /><br />Searchin’ affection in all the wrong places <br />Blowin’ all your dough on store-bought embraces <br /><br />Making the same mistake a million times forever<br />Loose ground daily - forgettin’ your endeavors<br /><br />Always tripping over yourself when you need to glide<br />Never seeming to find your stride in this lifetime<br /><br />Never in the right place at the right time<br />Never finding yourself the slightest peace of mind<br /><br />Falling into depths with no hope of recovery<br />Searching desperately for some kind of discovery<br /><br />But gotta drag yourself up – up out of bed<br />N gotta scrape out your skull – clear out your head<br /><br />And Gotta turn shit around - like you know you can<br />Only YOU got the power and the right to demand<br /><br />A life of pride – one to call your own<br />Where you’re YOUR own ruler – the Man on the throne<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br /><br />Here and now – limited hours on earth<br />Make the most of yours – recognize time’s worth<br />Formulate somethin’ solid just for you…<br />BEFORE this crazy ball splits in two<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br /><br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE -- WHAT YOU WAS MEANT TO ?<br />ARE YOU DOIN’ IN LIFE – WHAT YOU WAS SENT TO ?<br />ARE YOU LEADIN’ THE LIFE THAT YOU WANNA LIVE ?<br />ARE YOU LIVIN’ YOUR LIFE IN A WAY TO WIN ?<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />_______________________________________<br />6.<br />‘N PORTUGAL (Tito Gomes Remix)<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Berna Ceppas<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br />Addition vocals: Thalma de Freitas<br /><br /><br /><br />Ithaka got love for Portugal<br />Cuz I lived a lot of years in Portugal<br /><br />Cuz I got alotta bros in Portugal<br />Cuz I found my soul in Portugal<br /><br />Ithaka ain't from the old school, <br />Ithaka ain't from the new<br />I came swimming into the picture <br />From the depths of the blue<br /><br />With my fins dried out dragged myself to town<br />Still didn't know it if I was lost, or if I was found<br /><br />No job no friend no money not funny<br />Stepchild in Lisboa <br />With no milkshakes or honey<br /><br />But I be gliding I be rolling<br />Treatin' time like it be stolen<br /><br />Take the whole story back to the year 1992<br />Cuz sometimes you gotta do WHATCHA GOTTA DO*<br /><br />Time for me to ESCAPE FROM THE CITY* of devils<br />It was the riddle of life that I was trying to unravel<br /><br />I had to get out of there <br />While there was going to get<br /><br /><br />I WAS FLAT BROKE... IN PORTUGAL<br />ATE ALOT OF CALDO VERDE..... IN PORTUGAL<br />DRANK ALOT OF SUPERBOCK.....IN PORTUGAL<br />SMOKED ALOT OF GANZA …INPORTUGAL<br /><br />I WAS FLAT BROKE... IN PORTUGAL<br />ATE ALOT OF CALDO VERDE..... IN PORTUGAL<br />DRANK ALOT OF SUPERBOCK.....IN PORTUGAL<br />SMOKED ALOT OF GANZA …IN PORTUGAL<br /><br /><br />I LOOK TO THE BLUE* <br />Cuz I'm THE BUM WITH BLUE BLOOD*<br />BEEN FOUR long YEARS* <br />Since I made KETCHUP LOVE*<br /><br />Pretty Little, Pretty Little <br />pretty pretty STELLAFLY*<br />Won't you please baby please <br />be my SUBSTANCE-FREE EXHILE*<br /><br />But she said, <br />No, It's time for you to roam<br />So catch the SUSHI-PACK SUBWAY* <br />Get yourself on home<br /><br />I walk the street with no STREET LOYALTY*<br />Cuz I be from the sea, I be the FISHDADDY*<br /><br />In my SPIRITUAL GRAVEYARD*, there I was stuck<br />Wasn't easy like I thought to just, SO GET UP*<br /><br />THE RISE AND FALL OF A FORTUNE* <br />That was the next PLOT*<br /><br />SUNNY THE BUNNY* split with my money <br />But he never got caught<br /><br />ERASE THE SLATE OF HATE, <br />ERASE THE SLATE OF HATE*<br />With some FLOWERS AND THE COLOR OF PAINT*<br /><br />THERE'S A LOT OF SUGAR DOLLS...IN PORTUGAL<br />AND I MADE A LOT OF LOVE .....IN PORTUGAL<br />BUT I DIDN'T MAKE BABIES..IN PORTUGAL<br />CUZ I ALWAYS WORE A GLOVE...IN PORTUGAL<br /><br />THERE'S A LOT OF SUGAR DOLLS...IN PORTUGAL<br />AND I MADE A LOT OF LOVE .....IN PORTUGAL<br />BUT I DIDN'T MAKE BABIES..IN PORTUGAL<br />CUZ I ALWAYS WORE A GLOVE...IN PORTUGAL<br /><br /><br />BUTTERFLY OF WISDOM* <br />said, STAY STRONG LITTLE BROTHER*<br />AIN'T NO BREEZE*, <br />so STONEMOBILE* on down <br />To the ALABAMA CAVE PARTY*<br /><br />KING TARDY's* UMBILIBUS* arrived at two<br />With the ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGEL* crew<br /><br />Then it was URSULA of ITHAKA*, <br />CAPRICORN and CANCER*<br />And SEABRA IS MAD* <br />from SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR*<br /><br />Later, met PIGEON LADY* <br />at EDEN BY THE SEA*<br />She's a SLEEPDRIVER* <br />But she makes GOOD COOKIES*.....<br /><br />Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies<br /><br />Now I'm speeding through the decades <br />Like they was red lights<br /><br />Keeping a lead on the loanshark <br />That lent me the good life<br /><br />I'm out there living mine all the time,<br />Cuz rhymes don't grow in the garden<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME <br />AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME <br />AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br /><br />PEACE AND LOVE... ........IN PORTUGAL<br />THE SKY'S STILL BLUE..... IN PORTUGAL<br />REEFS AND POINTS......... IN PORTUGAL<br />SCORED THE BARREL OF MY LIFE...IN PORTUGAL<br /><br />SCRIBED ALOT OF RHYMES... IN PORTUGAL<br />MADE A DEMO..... .........IN PORTUGAL<br />CUT TWO ALBUMS ...........IN PORTUGAL<br />Yes, LIFE WAS GOOD......... IN PORTUGAL<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME <br />AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME <br />AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME <br />AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME <br />AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME <br />AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME <br />AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME <br />AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br /><br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME <br />AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br /><br /><br />• * titles of existing Ithaka songs that were:<br />• written in Portugal, <br />• recorded in Portugal,<br /> or inspired by Portugal.<br /><br /><br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br /><br /><br />7.<br />ONE MONTH STAND<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />I love my freedom , love my life<br />Probably be On The Roadin’ ‘til the day that I die <br /><br />Less is more….that seems to work for me<br />Less responsibility, more liberty<br /><br />But I do combine from time to time<br />When someone extra-fly finds her way into my mind<br /><br />Back in California- city Angeles<br />Eatin’ sushi at Noshee Japanese<br /><br />When our eyes locked up - like a lazor-guided missle<br />A global vagabond and a fair-skinned angel<br /><br />I said, I want to know you. <br />She said, I’d like to know you too<br />Wrote down her webmail and said,<br />You know what to do<br /><br />(I) said, I’ll be here thirty days, <br />leaving in December…<br />So let’s not waste a beat <br />An’ have a month to remember<br /><br />Put your fleas on hold. Call in sick. <br />And throw away the phone<br />Gonna give you all of me<br />From my toes to my dome<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />We met the next day, showed her the towers in Watts<br />Then went back to her place and split a six-pack of Sparks<br /><br />Ballerina all her life, curvy apple-backside<br />Flat-stomach, kinda stacked, long-haired, blue-eyed<br /><br />Rockin’ sense of humor - brains to boot<br />Loved hittin’ Chronic after raspberry vodka and juice<br /><br />She said, I’m really not the type for first date affection<br />But for you and ONLY you – I will make an exception<br /><br />Coincidentally her birthday, age: twenty-six<br />Unzippin’ recited lyrics to; How Many Licks ?<br /><br />Then ordained me with her very first ………ever<br />Obviously, I was honored with this provocative endeavor<br /><br />Unwrapped herself down to rhinestone g-string<br />This was better than being in Fiji, better than being a king<br /><br />Went though a box of Trojan Mints the first two days<br />Inventin’ things not in the Kama Sutra<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />Touching you. Feeling you. Hugging you. Kissing you.<br />Licking you. Squeezing you. Inside of you. Grinding you.<br /><br />Touching you. Feeling you. Hugging you. Kissing you.<br />Licking you. Squeezing you. Inside of you. Grinding you.<br /><br />Touching you. Feeling you. Hugging you. Kissing you.<br />Licking you. Squeezing you. Inside of you. Grinding you.<br /><br />Fornicated more in a month than most couples in a year<br />Everyday of that November felt like New Year’s<br /><br />No disappointment. No expectation. Just contentment.<br />We went our separate ways without any resentment<br /><br />But if again we collide in this lifetime<br />Be wrappin’ my vines around you in a vice-like bind<br /><br />No need to ask, WHAT IS THIS ? HOW ? ..or, WHY?<br />You and I had something special, we don’t need to define<br /><br />But for lack of articulate vocabulary<br />Call it a One Month Stand, of fond memories<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />SHE WAS MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND<br />MY ONE MONTH STAND…<br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />IN THE MOTHERLAND<br /><br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />____________________________________________<br /><br />8.<br />I RIDE 2008<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />I RIDE cuz I prefer to glide<br />Than to get high<br />With things that make my brain fry<br /><br />I RIDE the bumps in LA grime<br />I RIDE to forget LA city crime<br /><br />I RIDE cuz I choose to fly<br />Don’t wanna stagnate on ‘standby’<br /><br />I RIDE cuz I like salt spray in my eyes<br />Ride until the day the sun makes me blind<br /><br />I RIDE cuz nothing better than being inside of…<br />A waves inner-thigh<br /><br />I RIDE, cuz she's always wet<br />She never talks back <br />Or messes with my head<br /><br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br /><br />I RIDE to be cleansed of my sins<br />I used to ride a twin but I prefer a tri-fin<br />I RIDE whenever I have the time<br />Grew up by the sea, <br />But I was born in Anaheim<br />I RIDE I don't sit and observe<br />I RIDE day or night <br />Whenever I get the urge<br /><br />RIDE to calm my fried nerves<br />RIDE when my sanity I need to preserve<br />When I ride in the calm. I go with the flow<br />But when I ride in the storm I get AGRO !<br />Ride all around this globe<br />I RIDE in the tropics<br />I RIDE in the cold<br /><br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br /><br />I RIDE SINCE I WAS A SMALL FRY<br />SINCE THE DAY MAMMY MULTIPLIED<br />RIDE TO KEEP MY SOUL ALIVE<br />I’LL RIDE UNTIL THE DAY, THE DAY THAT I DIE<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE VIEW FROM THE TUBE<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE COLOR BLUE<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY MOJO INTACT<br />SO I GOT THE GOODS TO DELIVER <br />WHEN MY BABY GETS BACK<br /><br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br /><br />I RIDE to shed my inhibition<br />Riding everyday is my one ambition<br />I RIDE cuz it's my love-extreme<br />Sometimes ride naked, <br />Sometimes in neoprene<br /><br />I RIDE cuz I got the need for speed<br />I RIDE cuz I got the greed for speed<br />YES- I'll even bleed for speed !<br /><br />I RIDE-glide down the line for a mile……<br />Cuz that's my Substance-Free Exile<br /><br />I RIDE- slide into liquid caves<br />I RIDE cuz that's my favorite escape<br /><br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br /><br />I RIDE to be one with nature<br />I RIDE to keep from bad behavior<br /><br />I RIDE over rocks, I RIDE over reefs<br />I'll ride any wave, but prefer steep peaks<br /><br />I RIDE to keep myself inspired<br />To sculpt or scribe…even change a tire<br /><br />I RIDE in the middle of the winter<br />I rode a place that made my stick a splinter<br /><br />I rode walls that blocked out the sky<br />Underwater - out of breath - I saw my life flash by<br /><br />I RIDE to escape street commotion<br />Givin’ my praise to the motion of the ocean<br /><br />When I’m angry and times are hard<br />I get on rail and begin to carve<br /><br />A liquid piece of the pie<br />No longer feel like I want to die<br /><br />I RIDE in the Atlantic, I RIDE in the Pacific<br />I RIDE secret spots, can't be too specific<br /><br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br /><br />I RIDE SINCE I WAS A SMALL FRY…<br />SINCE THE DAY MAMMY MULTIPLIED<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY SOUL ALIVE<br />I’LL RIDE UNTIL THE DAY, THE DAY THAT I DIE<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE VIEW FROM THE TUBE<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE COLOR BLUE<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY MOJO INTACT<br />SO I GOT THE GOODS TO DELIVER <br />WHEN MY BABY GETS BACK<br /><br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br /><br /><br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />__________________________________________<br /><br /><br />9.<br />GREENCARD<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Produced by: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />They told her, In America nobody works hard<br />They all live in big houses and they marry movie stars<br /><br />They said, You’re the one – we’re too old<br />Now go on, get all the money…. bring it all on home<br /><br />So go on girl, have a look at the world<br />She didn’t want to go, but her family’s kinda poor<br /><br />Met in L.A. by an uncle she couldn’t remember<br />Said, Welcome to paradise my little “morsel tender”<br /><br />Got a job under the table as a night-time guard<br />But now eyes were on the sky: a U.S. Greencard<br /><br />NO REFUNDS NO GUARENTEES<br />THEY TAKE YOUR MONEY<br />THEN THEY TAKE YOUR PRIVACY<br />WHERE DO YOU GO AT NIGHT?<br />AND WHAT DO YOU DRINK?<br />WE ALWAYS WATCHING YOU ….<br />SO YOU BETTER NOT BLINK<br /><br />Democratic convention, downtown L.A.<br />Same day Rage Against The Machine done played<br /><br />Waitin’ for her number at the INS<br />Waiting to get legal in this land of excess<br /><br />Now it’s two years gone, and still no Greencard<br />They say she’s gettin’ closer, but she’s still so far<br /><br />She’s tired of these lines – tired of these fines<br />Tried to pay ‘em off, but they wouldn’t take a bribe<br /><br />Stuck holding ticket number 811<br />But the light on the wall says 107<br /><br />Seven-hundred and four ‘til they get to her turn<br />Let this mofo burn, let this mofo burn<br /><br />NO REFUNDS NO GUARENTEES<br />THEY TAKE YOUR MONEY<br />THEN THEY TAKE YOUR PRIVACY<br />WHERE DO YOU GO AT NIGHT?<br />AND WHAT DO YOU DRINK?<br />WE’RE ALWAYS WATCHING YOU…..<br />SO YOU BETTER NOT BLINK<br /><br /><br />Her number came up…and guess what ?<br />They denied her ass, that’s some messed-up luck<br /><br />But a young chola with tear-tats on her eyes<br />Dropped upon her, some words of the wise<br /><br />Why don’tcha go down to McArthur Park ?<br />In an hour you can have license and passport<br /><br />For five-hundred dollars you can be all set<br />Either to work or to get your welfare check<br /><br />So she rode her bicycle down sixth street<br />To where the brothers play b-ball and the dealers creep<br /><br />She told one of them players, Yo… I need ID<br />He said, hold on, Buttercup…let me call my boy “Z”<br /><br />NO REFUNDS NO GUARENTEES<br />THEY TAKE YOUR MONEY<br />THEN THEY TAKE YOUR PRIVACY<br />WHERE DO YOU GO AT NIGHT?<br />AND WHAT DO YOU DRINK?<br />WE’RE ALWAYS WATCHING YOU <br />SO YOU BETTER NOT BLINK<br /><br />“Z” showed up and asked for half the dough<br />Then he took of her a digital photo<br /><br />And said, Come back in an hour-my little orange flower<br />You will soon be resident in the land of milk and power<br /><br />Welcome to America, Baby<br /><br />No she gotta new name, but she’s still got that face<br />And now it’s time she rip the roof of this place<br /><br />NO REFUNDS NO GUARENTEES<br />THEY TAKE YOUR MONEY<br />THEN THEY TAKE YOUR PRIVACY<br />WHERE DO YOU GO AT NIGHT?<br />AND WHAT DO YOU DRINK?<br />WE’RE ALWAYS WATCHING YOU <br />SO YOU BETTER NOT BLINK<br /><br />NO REFUNDS NO GUARANTEES<br />THEY TAKE YOUR MONEY<br />THEN THEY TAKE YOUR PRIVACY<br />WHERE DO YOU GO AT NIGHT?<br />AND WHAT DO YOU DRINK?<br />WE’RE ALWAYS WATCHING YOU <br />SO YOU BETTER NOT BLINK<br /><br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />_________________________________________<br /><br /><br />10.<br />SIX YEARS (Time to Move On)<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />SIX YEARS OF LUST – SIX YEARS OF TRUST<br />SIX YEARS OF DREAMS – SIX YEARS OF BLESSINGS<br />SIX YEARS OF GRIPES – SIX YEARS OF FIGHTS<br />SIX YEARS OF HOPING – SIX YEARS OF COPING<br /><br />Hangin’ on, clingin’ on, dreamin’ on….<br />Time to move on…time to move on<br /><br />No, six years ain’t forever – but feel longer than it be<br />When two peoples’ love has faded and they never agree<br /><br />No more, I LOVE YOU BABYs- under the shade tree<br />All that’s left are: NOs, MAYBE SOs , WE’LL SEEs<br /><br />The lil’ red Scorpio, the big blue Cancer<br />Stopped seein’ eye-to-eye on the answers<br /><br />Like water to acid – we no longer mix<br />And some things in life you just can’t fix<br /><br />Some people just ain’t meant to stay together<br />No more spring days, always stormy weather<br /><br />SIX YEARS OF LUST – SIX YEARS OF TRUST<br />SIX YEARS OF DREAMS – SIX YEARS OF BLESSINGS<br />SIX YEARS OF GRIPES – SIX YEARS OF FIGHTS<br />SIX YEARS OF HOPING – SIX YEARS OF COPING<br /><br />Hangin’ on, clingin’ on, dreamin’ on….<br />Time to move on…time to move on<br /><br />In the City of Angels – taught you how to drive<br />And amongst people like devils – taught you how to survive<br /><br />I taught you English – you taught me how to laugh<br />And taught not to stress about the things we didn’t have<br /><br />But after a while – you started stressin’ yourself<br />Ain’t fun being broke – when you’re surrounded by wealth<br /><br />Wasn’t all our fault – circumstance played its part<br />But too much reality pulled us apart<br /><br />Misinterpretation. Miscommunication.<br />Brought the end to our long affiliation.<br /><br />SIX YEARS OF LUST – SIX YEARS OF TRUST<br />SIX YEARS OF DREAMS – SIX YEARS OF BLESSINGS<br />SIX YEARS OF GRIPES – SIX YEARS OF FIGHTS<br />SIX YEARS OF HOPING – SIX YEARS OF COPING<br /><br />Hangin’ on, clingin’ on, dreamin’ on….<br />Time to move on…time to move on<br /><br />We could both be sad. We could both be mad.<br />But let’s try to remember the good times had.<br /><br />The laughs. The friends. Down by the seaside<br />Back in Lisboa – under a Portuguese sky.<br /><br />You’s practically a kid – back then – in the day<br />But now you’re all grown up – ready to make yo’ way<br /><br />So let’s go our separate paths - but never forget<br />Time to move on – but not time to regret<br /><br />An amazing chapter in our life history<br />One to value throughout eternity<br /><br />SIX YEARS OF LUST – SIX YEARS OF TRUST<br />SIX YEARS OF DREAMS – SIX YEARS OF BLESSINGS<br />SIX YEARS OF GRIPES – SIX YEARS OF FIGHTS<br />SIX YEARS OF HOPING – SIX YEARS OF COPING<br /><br />Hangin’ on, clingin’ on, dreamin’ on….<br />Time to move on…time to move on<br /><br />SIX YEARS OF LUST – SIX YEARS OF TRUST<br />SIX YEARS OF DREAMS – SIX YEARS OF BLESSINGS<br />SIX YEARS OF GRIPES – SIX YEARS OF FIGHTS<br />SIX YEARS OF HOPING – SIX YEARS OF COPING<br /><br />Hangin’ on, clingin’ on, dreamin’ on….<br />Time to move on…time to move on<br /><br />Time to move on…time to move on… time to move on<br />Time to move on…time to move on…. time to move on<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />___________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />11.<br />THE CAMERAMAN<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br />I LIVE IT - SHOOT IT - STORE IT- DON’T IGNORE IT<br />FIND SATISFACTION FREEZING TIME BY THE MOMENT<br />FROM L.A. TO LISBON – ATHENS TO JAPAN<br />I POINT AND I SHOOT, CUZ I‘M THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />I LIVE IT - SHOOT IT - STORE IT- DON’T IGNORE IT<br />FIND SATISFACTION FREEZING TIME BY THE MOMENT<br />FROM L.A. TO LISBON – ATHENS TO JAPAN<br />I POINT AND I SHOOT, CUZ I‘M THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />I‘M THE CAMERAMAN ……THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />Gotta thank my Pops whose dead and gone to heaven<br />Put a camera in my hand when I was just seven<br /><br />Took my first photo soon after that<br />Of a blue bird sittin’ up on a birch branch<br /><br />Then off it was – for a trip to the zoo<br />Took a photo of a kangaroo with attitude<br /><br />Photos of my family – photos of the dog<br />Took a picture of the bible trying to photograph god<br /><br />Then my willy got bigga and my pubes grew<br />And just wanted to shoot a big set of boobs<br /><br />When I was sixteen, started shootin’ magazines<br />Shot covers of some of your favorite cds<br /><br />Shot rock n rollers, shot angry thugs<br />Shot a porno star who had triple-D jugs<br /><br />Took photos of Mike Smith, the Mighty Masher<br />Published a month later in a rag called, THRASHER<br /><br />I LIVE IT - SHOOT IT - STORE IT- DON’T IGNORE IT<br />FIND SATISFACTION FREEZING TIME BY THE MOMENT<br />FROM L.A. TO LISBON – ATHENS TO JAPAN<br />I POINT AND I SHOOT, CUZ I‘M THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />I LIVE IT - SHOOT IT - STORE IT- DON’T IGNORE IT<br />FIND SATISFACTION FREEZING TIME BY THE MOMENT<br />FROM L.A. TO LISBON – ATHENS TO JAPAN<br />I POINT AND I SHOOT, CUZ I‘M THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />I‘M THE CAMERAMAN…..THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />I LIVE IT - SHOOT IT - STORE IT- DON’T IGNORE IT<br />FIND SATISFACTION FREEZING TIME BY THE MOMENT<br />FROM L.A. TO LISBON – ATHENS TO JAPAN<br />I POINT AND I SHOOT, CUZ I‘M THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />I‘M THE CAMERAMAN….THE CAMERAMAN<br /><br />The camerman can….<br />The cameraman<br />The cameraman can…<br />The cameraman<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />_________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />12.<br />ROOMMATES FROM HELL<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br />Started I guess when I was seventeen<br />When I moved out of home and to the city<br /><br />To the condo of my bro, Jimmy C<br />And his pretty baby named, Melanie<br /><br />From Germany, and pretty cool she seemed<br />Like a second mommy took good care of me<br /><br />But one night Jimmy C looked at another girlie<br />And that’s when the shit got rough<br /><br />She put his brand new motorcycle on fire<br />With him attached to it in handcuffs<br /><br />No, you never really know – it’s hard to tell<br />When you gonna get a roommate from hell<br /><br />Since then lived in ten apartments<br />And had about…twenty roommates<br /><br />And all but three of those twenty<br />I’d consider catastrophic mistakes<br /><br />So let me go down the list and give to y’all straight<br />Yeah, names I’ve changed to spare my face<br /><br />Roommates from hell, Roommates from hell<br />Roommates from hell, Roommates from hell<br /><br />BOB was a trust fund snob – <br />who never ever ever had a job<br />But what a surprise. What do you know ?<br />He was the biggest tight-wad you ever saw<br /><br />MEGAN was a strict vegan<br />Who only ate corn on the cob.<br />But she’d kick baby cats and little puppy dogs <br />Every time she out of a job<br /><br />RICK was artist from Brooklyn <br />Who’d just moved into the zone<br />But I had to kick RICK out quick<br />Cuz he was getting high with acetone<br /><br />ANNIE’s favorite food was tuna..<br />Eaten right out of the can.<br />Ironically, she always complained<br />About the halitosis of her man, Stan.<br /><br />MATT was a fat nineteen year old<br />And a hardcore Star Trek freak.<br />Everyday after class bought a twenty-four pack<br />And drank his ass to sleep.<br /><br />LINDA would sneak into my room<br />And steal shit to give away or sell.<br />Found a pair of my sneaks at one thrift shop<br />And most of my records down at Goodwill.<br /><br />NO, YOU NEVER REALLY KNOW-IT’S HARD TO TELL<br />WHEN YOU GONNA GET A ROOMATE FROM HELL <br /><br />JOHNNY played clarinet and believe or not<br />It sounded worse than Annie smelled<br />Like to rehearse while watching softcore <br />on the Playboy Channel<br /><br />MARY KAY was a pretty DJ <br />who lacked any significant skills,<br />But she’d book gigs every night of the week,<br />Cuz of her micro-skirt and high heels<br /><br />GIOVANNI suffered crisis of identity, <br />He thought that he was me.<br />Telling everybody up and down the street<br />About HIS photography<br /><br />SHEILA was a homely prude<br />Who frequently had slutty thoughts<br />Virgin at twenty-nine never been laid<br />But would talk about sex nonstop.<br /><br />NED was a long-time meth-head<br />But didn’t hide it real well<br />He’d eat only once, one day a week…<br />Taco Night at Taco Del<br /><br />RAINY was an old ex-stripper who liked to hang out nude.<br />Saggy titties, saggin’ to the ground – <br />Sprawled out in front of the tube<br /><br />ZEKE was pure street, an ex-thug from the deep ‘hood<br />But like to tell everybody on the planet<br />He grew up in Beverlywood<br /><br />AUDREY looked like a goddess-<br />But wasn’t quite straight in the head,<br />Once got drunk and faked her suicide<br />By painting her entire body red<br /><br />ANYWHERE YOU LIVE AROUND THE GLOBE<br />IT’S THE SAME ROULETTE GAME EVERYWHERE YOU GO<br />WHEN YOU FIRST GET A ROOMMATE IT’S HARD TO TELL<br />WHEN YOU GONNA MAKE A FRIEND OR GET A ROOMMATE FROM HELL<br /><br />DON’T PUSH THEM OUT THE WINDOW<br />AND DON’T FEED THEM TO THE DOGS<br />AND WHATEVER YOU DO, TAKE MY ADVICE-<br />DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT CALLING THE COPS<br />CUZ THEY COME BACK TO GET YOU<br />IN YOUR SLEEP OR IN ANOTHER LIFE<br />AND THEN YOU’LL NEVER EVER GET RID OF THEM<br />AND THEY’LL BE FOREVER BY YOUR SIDE<br /><br />EARL was addicted to phone-porn, but never claimed his bill.<br />But who the hell else would call a hundred times over:<br />Pregnant Hos of the Hollywood Hills ?<br /><br />An’ once I caught EARL with my girl Shirl,<br />Had his tongue jammed down her throat.<br />“I swear Ith”, he said, “She hit on ME”….<br />But then why was she tied up in rope ?<br /><br />NO, YOU NEVER REALLY KNOW – IT’S HARD TO TELL<br />WHEN YOU GONNA GET A ROOMATE FROM HELL<br /><br />I kicked EARL out, SUE LYNN moved in<br />With a baby Rotweiler by the name of Spin<br />She worked all day, stayed out all night<br />And locked Spin in her room to piss, shit and cry.<br /><br />Lynn moved out, then came the model – DIANE<br />Unknown in LA, but she’s star in Japan<br />And god bless her heart, but she was so damn dumb<br />It was an awful disgrace….thinking it was hairspray,<br />Once sprayed herself in the face with Mace<br /><br />NO YOU NEVER REALLY KNOW-IT’S HARD TO TELL<br />WHEN YOU GONNA GET A ROOMATE FROM HELL <br />JAKE had a little daughter, who lived way out in Salt Lake.<br />But I think he might’ve forgotten her name<br />Cuz he always just called her, Jake’s Mistake<br />He thought that he was a modern-day California gigolo<br />Had a red Mustang and a red wetsuit <br />……….with a matching red surfboard<br /><br />Had girls on hold some young, most old<br />Claiming his cum was worth more than cold.<br />And I confirm what I saw on my own,<br />Had a bunch of broads payin’ his rent and phone.<br /><br />JAKE had grown up middle-class, in a nice part of Mar Vista<br />But got kicked out of home, sixteen years old<br />For getting’ busy with his little sister<br /><br />ANYWHERE YOU LIVE AROUND THE GLOBE<br />IT’S THE SAME ROULETTE GAME EVERYWHERE YOU GO<br />WHEN YOU FIRST GET A ROOMMATE IT’S HARD TO TELL<br />WHEN YOU GONNA MAKE A FRIEND OR GET A ROOMMATE FROM HELL<br /><br />DON’T PUSH THEM OUT THE WINDOW<br />AND DON’T FEED THEM TO THE DOGS<br />AND WHATEVER YOU DO, TAKE MY ADVICE-<br />DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT CALLING THE COPS<br />CUZ THEY COME BACK TO GET YOU<br />IN YOUR SLEEP OR IN ANOTHER LIFE<br />AND THEN YOU’LL NEVER EVER GET RID OF THEM<br />AND THEY’LL BE FOREVER BY YOUR SIDE<br /><br />ANYWHERE YOU LIVE AROUND THE GLOBE<br />IT’S THE SAME ROULETTE GAME EVERYWHERE YOU GO<br />WHEN YOU FIRST GET A ROOMMATE IT’S HARD TO TELL<br />WHEN YOU GONNA MAKE A FRIEND <br />OR GET A ROOMMATE FROM HELL<br /><br />DON’T PUSH THEM OUT THE WINDOW<br />DON’T FEED THEM TO THE DOGS<br />AND WHATEVER YOU DO, TAKE MY ADVICE-<br />DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT CALLING THE COPS<br />CUZ THEY COME BACK TO GET YOU<br />IN YOUR SLEEP OR IN ANOTHER LIFE<br />AND THEN YOU’LL NEVER EVER GET RID OF THEM<br />AND THEY’LL BE FOREVER BY YOUR SIDE<br /><br /><br />AND THEY’LL BE FOREVER BY YOUR SIDE<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br /><br />13.<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN THE SHADE<br />Lyrics: Ithaka Music: Tito Gomes<br />Artist: Ithaka Producer: Tito Gomes<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The day was hot, too hot for fun<br />Ninety-eight in the sun, <br />One twenty-one in the sun<br /><br />Boarding down to a job interview<br />Unemployed, no that not new<br /><br />At red light, Pico/Fairfax<br />Laid homeless drunk in my path<br /><br />Wrinkled face, big beard and belly<br />Peacefully passed out wooooo kind of smelly<br /><br />Dinosaur-breath, and lion-like snore<br />Dreaming (of) all-night liquor stores<br /><br />Roasting just like a Christmas turkey<br />An’ soon to become a stick of hobo-jerky<br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT, TOO HOT FOR FUN<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN SHADE, ONE-TWENTY-ONE IN THE SUN<br />I COULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I COULD<br />I SHOULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I SHOULD<br />BUT SOMEONE ELSE’LL HELP <br />SOMEONE WITH TIME TO KILL<br />BUT I GOTTA GET THIS JOB, I GOTTA PAY MY BILLS<br />The day was hot, the day was hot<br /><br />My meeting for 3:00, and it was only 2:15<br />Had time enough to be Samaritine<br /><br />Don’t get involved, (I) thought, ain’t my business<br />And I didn’t mean to kill him, god be my witness<br /><br />But I coulda dragged him out of the sun<br />Into the shade some nearby shrubs<br /><br />But someone else will help <br />Someone with time to kill<br />But I gotta get this job, I gotta pay my bills <br /><br />Light turned green, I’m on my way<br />But for big-belly drunk not a good day<br /><br />And in the end- the job, the job had been taken<br />It’d been for nothing I’d been on the street a baking<br /><br />The day was hot, the day was hot<br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT, TOO HOT FOR FUN<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN SHADE, ONE-TWENTY-ONE IN THE SUN<br />I COULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I COULD<br />I SHOULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I SHOULD<br />BUT SOMEONE ELSE’LL HELP <br />SOMEONE WITH TIME TO KILL<br />BUT I GOTTA GET THIS JOB, I GOTTA PAY MY BILLS<br />The day was hot, the day was hot<br /><br />Hour later, back at the corner<br />Now taped off in yellow border<br /><br />In the middle, man still asleep<br />But now his snoring and dreams ceased….<br />He done run out of his life’s only lease<br /><br />And while I dazed in a state of confused thought<br />They put him in a van and haul him off<br /><br />Like a dead dog without a tag<br />Nameless, buried in vagabond rags<br /><br />His old leather face I will never forget<br />Another debit on my karmic debt<br /><br />The day was hot, the day was hot<br /><br />Missed my cue, life to save<br />No, for the big-belly drunk not a good day<br /><br />The day was hot, The day was hot<br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT <br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT<br />THE DAY WAS HOT TOO HOT FOR FUN<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN SHADE, ONE-TWENTY-ONE IN THE SUN<br />I COULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I COULD<br />I SHOULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I SHOULD<br />BUT SOMEONE ELSE’LL HELP <br />SOMEONE WITH TIME TO TIME TO KILL<br />BUT I GOTTA GET THIS JOB, I GOTTA PAY MY BILLS<br /><br />The day was hot, <br />The day was hot -hot –hot<br />The day was hot, the day was hot<br /><br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT <br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT<br />THE DAY WAS HOT TOO HOT FOR FUN<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN SHADE, ONE-TWENTY-ONE IN THE SUN<br />I COULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I COULD<br />I SHOULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I SHOULD<br />BUT SOMEONE ELSE’LL HELP <br />SOMEONE WITH TIME TO TIME TO KILL<br />BUT I GOTTA GET THIS JOB, I GOTTA PAY MY BILLS<br /><br />The day was hot, the day was hot<br />The day was hot-hot-hot<br />_________________________________<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br />_________________________________<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-867967507898827356?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1167658065205309422007-01-01T05:17:00.000-08:002007-01-01T05:27:45.220-08:00YOU ( Ithaka poem formerly known as, We Are The Players )<br /><br />Lyrics: Ithaka (aka Darin Pappas) <br />ASCAP-Ravenshark Music <br />administered by Memory Lane-NY<br /><br />Music: Dj Vibe (aka Antonio Pereira)<br />SPA/LX EDITORA)<br /><br />This song can be found on Kaos Records' release<br />DJ VIBE: Global Vibes 3 (released dec. 2006)<br /><br />----------------------------------------------------------<br /><br />"YOU"<br /><br />You……<br />Without you……<br /><br />Hello my friends<br />Hello world<br /><br />I said it once before<br />And I said it with no fear<br />For most of us here and now<br />The end is very near<br /><br />But for regrets <br />This is neither the time <br />or the place<br />Better that we got out <br />with a little bit of style<br />And a little bit of grace<br />Like a climatic ending scene <br />Of an epic motion picture<br />We are all beautiful losers<br />And we are all beautiful sinners<br />In this global life drama<br />We are indeed among the last<br />Both planet and inhabitants<br />Destined for fatal crash<br />Better to sing and shout <br />Then to say prayers<br />Because we are not the audience<br />We are the players.<br /><br />You <br />Without you<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-116765806520530942?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1158860828241763892006-09-21T10:38:00.000-07:002007-09-22T13:10:34.297-07:00All lyrics for ithaka’s 1995 album :<br />"Flowers and the Color of Paint"<br />(except Umbilibus & Erase the Slate of Hate)<br />Recorded in Lisbon, Portugal for Movieplay records<br />This album was nominated for 3 BLITZ PREMIOS<br />(Portuguese grammy's) an was considered one of<br />the most influencial Portuguese albums of the 1990's<br />by Jornal Publico (#1 Portuguese newspaper)<br />_____________________________________<br /><br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS (original version)<br />Original version from album, Flowers and the Color of Paint (Movieplay Records, 1995) . This is the version that appeared appeared in Colombia Pictures’ feature release, The Replacement Killers (1997). Lyrics: ITHAKA , Music: Pedro Passos, Background vocals: Marta Dias. Recorded at Namouche Studios, Lisbon Portugal. Produced by Joe Fossard.Note: the song was slightly altered lyrically and re-recorded in 1998 with new music written and produced by Joe Fossard. Due to disputes over the original masters, this new recording was released with the title, ESCAPE (Nortesul-EMI records, Portugal).<br />________________________________________________________________________________________<br />________________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />People they ask me, Why the hell you wanna leave?<br />Saying that they’ll miss me, that they’re gonna grieve<br /><br />This town is number one, we got the Lakers and the sun.<br />There’s always lots of lovelies, always lots of fun<br /><br />Why won’t you settle down and stay?<br />Who in their right mind would ever leave LA?<br /><br />But I gotta tell you, got to put it straight<br />still’ve busted out of there busted down the gate<br /><br />Cuz, I had to get out while there was going to get,<br />LA was the hunter, California was the net <br /><br />So I got up, got off of my bucket<br />Sometimes you gotta say, Well what the hell.? FUCK IT!<br /><br />Wasn’t around for the riots of the King<br />But every other night bullets left my ears to ring.<br /><br />HOSTILITY, the song that LA played<br />Every single night and every single day.<br /><br />Walking down the alley, the one behind my house<br />Came five slang-bangers, it was me they were to roust<br /><br />They asked me, Where ya going?, said, Not really sure<br />The next thirty-seconds I remembered in a blur<br /><br />3x WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />I tried so hard for years to understand<br />Why do you find such pleasure in killing another man?<br /><br />I prefer the simple highs in life<br />Like a mountain of water, not cuttin’ with a knife<br /><br />But where I’ve disappeared ain’t confidential<br />The sky’s still blue, the swells are monumental<br /><br />And no, I’m not ignoring my heritage<br />Over the gap, I’m a building a bridge<br /><br />To learn once and for all that peace can exist<br />Forgive, forget, bring down the fists<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />Five days later, what have I got?<br />I’m in another place which is sunny and hot<br /><br /><br />The difference here is that I’m free as a bird<br />No gun to my head, no blood on the curb<br /><br />But just then a strange thought overtook my brain<br />And since that day, it never felt the same<br /><br />If everybody just put down their arms<br />To nobody on the planet could ever come harm<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />The people of this planet they want explanations<br />For riots, earthquakes and all “God’s creations”<br /><br />You got me, I just couldn’t say<br />I do what I do, I take it day by day.<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />Well six weeks later, still don’t know what’s up<br />Don’t got many friends, still got an empty cup<br /><br />They speak in tongues I don’t understand<br />But I look just like ‘em, visually I blend<br /><br />It’s time to start it up in my new land<br />Korvorowng’s one and only survival plan<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />It took me two years, but now I know for sure<br />LA ain’t the enemy and goodness will endure<br /><br />The Seed of Free, my real need<br />Was right there all the time inside of me<br /><br /><br />Just a voyage of my mind is what I needed<br />But now I’m on the other side and deep seeded<br /><br />LA to LAX in fourteen hours flat.<br />At home on two shores, but I ain’t living fat<br /><br />Still plagued by brokenness<br />It doesn’t disappear when I say, hocus pocus<br /><br /><br />But grounded for the moment in the city of Lisbon<br />I’m looking for peace and I’m looking for wisdom<br /><br />Hooked up with a mastermind named, Grizzly<br />Formed Ithaka, now we’re rolling busily<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />5x- ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br />_________________________________________________________<br />_________________________________________________________<br />_________________________________________________________<br />THE PIGEON LADY<br />(c.1992 ithaka darin pappas <br />from a series of short texts and stories <br />called, PEACE, LOVE & PORTUGAL ?)<br /><br />She only has one arm,<br />but she has a big heart.<br />She also has <br />a pet pigeon <br />named Zaza,<br />which she keeps <br />in a plastic bag<br />warm and dry<br />out of the rain.<br /><br />She always says, <br />Boa Tarde,<br />when I pass her <br />at the square.<br />And I feel privileged<br />to have such a wonderful person <br />like the Pigeon Lady<br />even acknowledge <br />my meager existence.<br /><br />She’s homeless,<br />she’s old,<br />but beautiful.<br />And I hope <br />she’ll keep me warm <br />and dry <br />out of the rain.<br />________________________________________<br />_______________________________________<br />_________________________________________<br /><br /><br />SLEEPDRIVER<br />SLEEPDRIVER song #11 from album, FLOWERS AND THE COLOR OF PAINT (1995)<br />lyrics:Ithaka (written 1991) music: Pedro Passos, produced by Joe Fossard.<br /><br />La to Pheonix in Six hours straight<br />Is he awake or is he asleep<br />Drives all night in his GTO<br />To see a squaw he’s left by a red rock<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />Maybe it’s love maybe a death wish<br />Not sure himself in his state of despair<br />Fourteen hour days, five days a week<br />All for a squaw he’s left by a red rock<br />Sleepdriver drove to be on the big screen<br />But the star became a grip (non-union) <br />for not much pay<br />A little is better than none,<br />He sends the checks home he sends her to school<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />And every Friday by eight<br />He’s on the Ten heading east…for love and home cooking<br />But by Sunday at six, he’s on the Ten heading west<br />He’s got to get back, <br />he’s got an eight a.m. call <br />All the way in Valencia<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />The Sleepdriver drove back and forth for years<br />Through dust storms and rain <br />and degrees of a hundred and eight<br />The Sleepdriver drove<br />Dozing off and dozing on<br />Reflector hypnosis a trance-like state.<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />The sleepdriver drove the whole night straight<br />But one night, he just plain fell asleep.<br />And he dreamed of his great grandfather<br />In a feather headband and a pair of moccasins<br />…young as a buck<br />And he was in a new land<br />Even farther from the squaw he’d left<br />By the red rock<br />_________________________________________________________<br />_____________________________________________________<br />______________________________________________________<br />STONEMOBILE (album version)<br /><br />Once upon a time a long time ago<br />I had a slanky slimfish twenty-four years old<br /><br />Knowing I was wheel-less, she gave me a ride<br />A junker of a junker Morris 1969<br /><br />Flat-grey, with plenty of dents and rust<br />No lights, no mirrors and covered with dust<br /><br />She said, this is a symbol of my feelings for you.<br />I know it ain’t your color, but you can paint it blue<br /><br />Then she split, just like a Stellafly would<br />Left a hole in my gut, no I wadn’t feeling good<br />And for a while, I didn’t drive it all <br />Represented someone kinda pretty, someone kinda tall<br />Mostly I’d been intrigued by her head<br />The things she wrote and the things she said<br />Guess I wasn’t smart enough for her, role<br />But girl, a brain and worth shit without a heart and a soul<br />But two months later,I put those thoughts beneath<br />Felt like taking a drive up to Peniche<br />But two years since Stonemobile been drove<br />But stuck a key in her keyhole and off we rode<br /><br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL <br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL<br /><br />Ain’t got the frozen fish, but I got something better<br />A whole lot of soul with a fucked up fender<br />It ain’t where ya going, it’s how you gettin’ there<br />And ya she’s kinda funny-looking and some people stare<br />But she’s a bucket with class, I drive her with pride<br />She’s my very own, very special Stonemobile-ride<br /><br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL <br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL<br /><br />She’s called the Stonemobile, because she looks like a rock<br />Slow and grey, most people would rather walk<br />Keeping Ithaka as our final destination<br />A million places no time for hesitation<br />And yes it’s true she don’t use electricity<br />I know what Kermit meant, it ain’t easy being green<br />But most of the time, she don’t leave the driveway<br />But now she’s got a family and she gets washed daily<br /><br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL <br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL<br /><br />Escape, search, find, we’ll<br />Got it . Get it. Good. And Free will<br /><br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL <br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL<br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL <br />WE’RE GETTING KINDA STONEY IN THE STONEMOBILE<br />IT AINT WHERE YOU GOING ITS HOW YOU FEEL<br /><br />__________________________________________________<br />__________________________________________________<br />___________________________________________________<br /><br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />Direct live from the miracle mile……<br /><br />Well I was riding with some brothers Somewhere south of Gibraltar<br />We didn’t have a plan so there was nothing that could falter <br />Picked up another brother down at Darbouzza<br />His name was Akeem he had a sister named Souza<br />He said to Agadir we should go<br />We all got ready we got ready to roll<br />We drove all night, it rained like dogs and cats<br />We drove all night, there was no turning back<br />Arrived at Anchor point in the middle of the morn<br />The sun was shining, the end of the storm.<br />The Point was reeling, it looked like a painting<br />Overhead and glassy with lips hollow and spraying<br />We got out there we carved with all our might<br />We carved all day ‘til it became night<br />Our city grime had washed away<br />Tahgazout our new home, the village where we stayed<br />Crashed out early we rose before dawn<br />From this perspective civilization seems wrong<br /><br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br /><br />Back out in the lineup of bright blue<br />Akeem dropped into a big crystal tube<br />And made an exit without getting wet<br />While Smiley took off on a two-meter set<br />He carved off the bottom, he snapped off the top<br />And disappeared behind the curtain <br />in the bottom of the trough<br />And once again, he saw daylight<br />Everything about this day was going all right<br />Until I got brave, challenged a thick lip<br />Got chewed up then spit back out of the grip<br />My blade was busted down the middle in two<br />Underestimated Anchor’s power but now I knew<br />Trigo was the next victim of her assault<br />Kicked in his butt then flipped a somersault<br />His blade also, was busted down the middle<br />It don’t know genius to figure out this riddle<br />Treat the Lady Anchor with a little respect<br />Or you will very likely get worked or wrecked<br /> <br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br /><br />After two days of nonstop laceration<br />Drove in search of different motivation<br />To a little village, no village at all<br />Just ten fisherman and right three meters tall <br />Strapped a cord to the tail of my six-ten<br />Took a couple of spills, but wasn’t ready to say when<br />Then there it was with my name written on it<br />High blue and steep with a big fat lip<br />Scratched for shore like a dog does fleas<br />But this is a drop-in this ain’t no disease<br />Made the first turn relatively unscathed<br />But didn’t want to stick around for the aftermath<br />But then the blueroom enclosed me<br />A tiny light was all I could see<br />Wait for me…can’t go any quicker<br />But fortunately for me that little light got bigger<br />And I’m out of there into the brightness<br />No longer feeling the slightest bit of frightness<br />Euphoria now part of my agenda<br />The real McCoy not the pretender<br />After on the shore, I saw the To’of the Dogs<br />But couldn’t think a word my mind was full of fog.<br />The old artist told us stories out of his head<br />Of the visitors there; Jim, Jimmy and The Dead<br />The Dead brought their blades and tried their liquid luck<br />But nobody comes around no more, nobody gives a fuck<br />But I gave a fuck-and the Circle did too<br />This place was magic and surrounded by blue<br /><br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br /><br />Then we headed north toward Casablanca<br />Stopped off at an ancient city called Essouira<br />Some Mud was tried, but no sale was made<br />But a very stoned Joe said it all taste the same<br />The coast was flat so we headed back<br />But the lefts at Darbouzza weren’t so great<br />We wasn’t sure if we should spilt or wait<br />But at dinner I met a mistress from Paris<br />I asked her her name but she seemed embarrassed<br />Ended up hanging at her crib by the shore<br />We smoked a little something<br />And we listened to the roar of a new Northwesterly on the increase<br />Of this addiction my soul won’t release<br />Slept like a log, No I didn’t mean to bore her<br />But I needed rest, I couldn’t help but ignore her<br />Cuz my main girl is brewing up something for me<br />If you didn’t guess, my best girl is the sea<br />But she didn’t produce as I’d expected<br />And I’m feeling aggravated and I’m feeling rejected<br />The rest of the Circle felt the same as I did<br />As we was thinking, man,..just about time that we split<br />Then Akeem that muthafuckin surfing machine<br />Suggested we visit he town Sale’ to check out the scene<br />A strange town with a strange name, <br />a ghetto of a ghetto…in Morocco it’s the same<br />then a fight broke out down the street<br />Rocks were thrown, there was the thunder of feet<br />Clubs were swung, a riot was on<br />And we was thinking, it’s time to get gone<br />Packed up our shit, no time for a prayer<br />Again we headed north we got the fuck out of there<br />We got the ferry boat back to Spain<br />It’s was very stormy the sky spilling rain<br />Passed through Customs, Loreto carried Mud<br />In my opinion that shit fucking dumb<br />But with nerves of steel it was ok<br />There was no bust and we were on our way<br />All though the night until the next day<br />Back to Lisboa the town where we stay<br />Arrived home without escudo or dollar<br />Just glad to be back<br /> from Somewhere South of Gibraltar;<br /><br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR <br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />___________________________________________________________<br />___________________________________________________________<br />___________________________________________________________<br />Been Four Years<br /><br />Been four years. It’s been four years. <br />Been four years. Since I saw your face.<br />Been four years. It’s been four years. <br />Been four years. Since I saw your face.<br /><br />Met at your Papa’s showing, back in LA.<br />He’s a twisted brother, must run in the family.<br />You were kinda bizarre, yeah-you scared me a little.<br />You was only eighteen, when life is just a riddle.<br />But I should have known a good thing, <br />when it slapped me on the face.<br />But it didn’t seem to me, the right time or the place.<br />See you was too young, least that was my alibi.<br />But I was still mindfucked-up over Stellafly.<br /><br />But it’s four years later, I been to hell and back.<br />Thank you for your letters, and thank you for your fax. <br />Cuz sometimes it’s lonely on this side of the pool.<br />You says you’re gonna visit ‘fore you go back to school.<br /><br />Been four years. It’s been four years. <br />Been four years. Since I saw your face.<br />Been four years. It’s been four years. <br />Been four years. Since I saw your face.<br /><br />But whadda know? I gotta go on assignment.<br />And won’t be in Lisboa when your flight gets in.<br />But we ain’t got much time, cuz this life is short.<br />So try to change your ticket, meet me in the garden port.<br />And you did…you landed gently. And you was looking good.<br />You brought with me your luck, just like a ladybug would.<br /><br />Been four years. It’s been four years. <br />Been four years. Since I saw your face.<br /><br />The girl I’d known, she’d grown into a woman.<br />You had yourself together, you knew what you was doing.<br />No, you never before been to this garden.<br />No you never heard before of this garden.<br />But we got along, like the flower and the bee.<br />No fights, no complaints, not the slightest bit of jealousy<br />Out on that little garden out in the sea.<br />I found out who you was. I found out who was me.<br /><br />Been four years. It’s been four years. <br />Been four years. Since I saw your face.<br /><br />But after two weeks, the trip came to an end.<br />We went our separate ways. We took our separate planes<br />Back to Brooklyn. Back to Lisboa.<br />Separate sides of the Atlantic. <br />You know I’m gonna miss you.<br />So let’s not let four more years go by<br />Together we should learn, together we should fly.<br />To unknown Edens all around this earth.<br />See you again was like a second birth.<br /><br />Been four years. It’s been four years. <br />Been four years. Since I saw your face.<br /><br />_____________________________________________________<br />______________________________________________________<br />_____________________________________________________<br /><br />FISHDADDY<br /><br />I had a headache my body felt cold<br />But I was still kinda young, twenty-six years old<br />Poisons of all sort flowed through my brain<br />I never felt sorrow and I rarely felt pain<br />Why did I always wear a frown<br />What was it? What was getting me down ?<br />The problem is I ain’t no city-slicker<br />I dig street sounds, but I ain’t no quick sticker<br />I like bashing lips of a different kind<br />If I don’t get wet soon, I’m gonna loose my mind<br />I closed up shop, I locked my house up tight.<br />I headed for the ocean in the middle of the night<br />First by foot, then a bus and a train<br />I arrived at a lonely beach that had no name.<br />I waxed up, then I paddled out alone.<br />But what I saw next almost turned me to stone<br />A lovely mermaid with snakes for hair.<br />I was immobilized by her deep, sultry stare<br />Every word she said was like a little song<br />This was no hallucination, my mind wasn’t gone.<br />She said; Excuse me landman, but I want to make a baby<br />I said; Let me think about it…maybe<br />But fifteen seconds later, I said all right<br />And sixteen seconds later is when I saw the light<br />She began glowing just like a ball of fire<br />But where the hell had gone my desire?<br />I didn’t know whether to worship her..or buck<br />Was I dead, or was this just good luck<br />She said; Landman, don’t be nervous don’t be shy<br />But if you don’t give it to me I will probably die<br />All right, Your Highness…if it’s a matter of life and death<br />I’ll give you what you ask, I’ll give you my best<br />Didn’t know much about being a father to a fish<br />But she’d more than convinced me to do as she wished<br />We did it upside right and upside down<br />Under the water and above ground<br />After twenty-four hours we finished the deed<br />The she asked me, Now lanman is there anything that you need<br />I said You sweet fish you there is only one thing that I would like you to do<br />Take me with you to your underwater world<br />Cuz I care about you Miss half-fish/Miss half-girl<br />She said that Posedon wouldn’t like it much<br />But that she’d try to talk with him today at lunch<br />To our surprise, Poseidon didn’t dispute a thing<br />Just said, a brother Greek to be a future king<br />Me? A fish king in the ocean blue<br />That sounded all right I needed a life that was new<br />We go married the very next week<br />No more cars for me, no more city streets<br />I learned to breath water, like I used to breath air<br />Snakes grew from my head where there used to be hair<br />In a few short months Manta’s belly grew<br />And not long after that, she became two.<br />NOW I’M A FISHDADDY<br />NEVER EVER THOUGHT I’D BE A FISHDADDY<br />SO VERY GLAD TO BE A FISHDADDY<br />FOREVER WANT TO BE A FISHDADDY<br />Big mermaid, little mermaid both so sweet<br />I spent my days finding them things to eat<br />Little fish and lulas* sometimes a worm<br />Life was even sweeter since Baby Manta was born<br />But when Baby Manta got a little more bigger<br />She began to develop a lovely mermaid figure<br />And soon all of the sharks wanted a piece of her ass<br />Wanted to slam her in the forest of sea grass<br />Me and Big Manta, we were worried about our baby<br />Hoped she’d grow up to be a nice mermaid lady<br />So we decided to move to the Atlantic<br />But instead of helping her, Baby Manta became frantic.<br />The Atlantic shraks were just as bad as the rest<br />All this temptation was putting our baby to the test<br />I caught her in a cave with shark, Saltwater Jim<br />Had his jaws on her nipple and was trying to work his fin in<br />I bit Jim in his back with my knifelike teeth<br />He robbed Baby’s innocence, soggy sucker was a thief<br />Daddy, Baby said, Why did you do what you did?<br />I’m a big fish now, I’m not no fishkid<br /><br />BUT WHAT’S A FISHDADDY TO DO?<br />BUT WHAT’S A FISHDADDY TO DO?<br />Could someone please tell me,<br />Cuz I ain’t got a clue<br /><br />BUT WHAT’S A FISHDADDY TO DO?<br />BUT WHAT’S A FISHDADDY TO DO?<br /><br />All right Baby, do what you want but be home by one.<br />Please be careful don’t have too much fun<br />Oh daddy, you can count on me<br />I’ll be a good little mermaid, you’ll see<br />When I got home, I told Manta your daughter is crazy<br />She said, She’s yours too…as a father you’re lazy<br />Soon baby manta started dating Perry<br />He was the porpoise with a purpose.<br />He worked part-time at the underwater Red Cross Surplus<br />Perry and Baby Manta got married the tenth of June<br />Big Manta sang a beautiful ocean tune<br />The honeymooned in an old shipwreck<br />The word Los Angeles was painted on the deck<br />That brought back many things for me to remember<br />It’d been eighteen years ago last September<br />When I first met Manta as a lovely young mermaid<br />Whose beauty alone had left me in a daze<br />Out in the ocean, front of that no-name beach<br />I’d gotten wet that day to get off the street<br />A damn it I’m so very glad I did<br />I’m a happy fishdaddy with a wife and fishkid<br />NOW I’M A FISHDADDY<br />NEVER EVER THOUGHT I’D BE A FISHDADDY<br />SO VERY GLAD TO BE A FISHDADDY<br />________________________________________________________<br />______________________________________________________<br />_______________________________________________________<br /><br /><br /><br />Goodcookies<br /><br />I met her in a funny unusual way<br />I was in a strange mood<br />Or I wouldn’t have tried<br />To get her number through <br />A friend of a friend of a friend’s<br /><br />Spoke on the phone two weeks<br />Without seeing her face<br />Then one day she called me up <br />and said…I’m coming over<br /><br />She showed up<br />She looked real nice<br />Had a package in her hand<br />And said… This is for you<br />It was a basket full of cookies<br />Oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies<br /><br />Been together two weeks a long time for me<br />And my friends ask me, Why?<br />She makes good cookies<br /><br />Tall, brown, funny, crazy and pretty.<br />Sweeter than maple syrup.<br />She makes good cookies.<br /><br />Been together two months<br />A long time for me.<br /><br />We fight sometimes.<br />Sometimes we separate.<br />But we always get together again.<br />And my friends ask me, WHY?<br />And I say, She makes good cookies<br /><br />Two years later, not nearly as sweet<br />Always nagging about the mud on my feet,<br />About my drinking or my card game<br />But she loves me I know <br />because she bakes me homemades<br />She makes good cookies<br />When I least expect it<br />Oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies<br /><br />__________________________________________________<br />__________________________________________________<br />__________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />RICH GIRL (ketchup love)<br /><br />I spent the day up in Ericeira<br />To try to remove my city hysteria<br />My car broke down in Estoril<br />I needed gasoline but didn’t have any bills<br />So I…I took a walk along the road<br />But no princess here to kiss the toad<br />I walked up to a great big house <br />I snuck in the back door quiet as a mouse<br />And started looking through the drawers for some money<br />But all I found was the foot of a bunny.<br />It didn’t bring me no good luck<br />I couldn’t find a single solitary buck<br />Then a car pulled up in the driveway<br />But there was no place for me to hideaway<br />A beautiful brown girl came through the front door<br />Just the sight of her made my sweat start to pour<br />What are you doing here ? She asked a matter-of-fact<br />I said, I needed a couple of bucks for the drive back<br />She said, I could call the police but…No<br />I would rather talk with you before you go<br />She said, It’s lonely all alone in this great big place<br />It’s sometimes weeks before I see a single face<br />She said that her name was Angelia<br />Hello Angelia, so very nice to meet ya<br />Would you like a beer? She asked me<br />Or would you prefer hallucinogenic tea ?<br />Well…….no tea for me sweet girl<br />Cuz I think I’m already in another world<br />Do you like to dance? she asked.<br />No, not very much…I think I’ll pass<br />She said, But this is dancing of a different kind<br />Let me demonstrate, let me change your mind<br />Then she put on an old soul jam…….<br />And tried to shake her butt as best as she can<br />But I was less than impressed by her shaking<br />She looked like a little rich girl faking<br />But then she took her clothes off one by one<br />It was the right place and time to have a little bit of fun<br />After she was naked she got some ketchup from the kitchen<br />She put it all over her body then asked me. Guess what’s missing?<br />I don’t know, What? She said, Just your bean pod<br />Got out of my clothes faster than a hotrod<br />Then I took a second to put on a glove<br />Then we got crazy we made ketchup love<br /><br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />I said..SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br /><br />Afterward, I licked her body clean<br />She said I had the sharpest tongue that she had ever seen<br />Later we decided to go to the store<br />We bought so many things, they barely fit through the door<br />We bought more ketchup and syrup, barbeque sauce and cherries<br />Whipped cream, honey, butter and strawberries<br />Then she turned on that same old song<br />And soon she was dancing with a rhythm that was wrong<br />Shit, I thought, that girl can’t dance at all<br />But then she took off her clothes and walked down the hall<br />She jumped on the bed and spread her wings of a dove<br />And once again I took a second to put on a glove<br />Then I dove in like she was swimming pool<br />I stabbed her deep with my loaded tool<br /><br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />I said..SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br /><br /><br />Well after the whomping she still wanted more<br />She went into the kitchen to get the things from the store<br />Then went into the bathroom and threw them in the tub<br />They called to me, Korvorao…you wanna do something dumb?<br />Sure I said, and put on that same old song<br />And soon she was shaking with a rhythm that was wrong<br />My willy went limp fro-m the sight of her wiggle<br />I closed my eyes and all I heard was her giggle<br />Then I dove in to her big bathtub<br />And started doing things that was dumb<br />Whomping in a tub full of ketchup, syrup, <br />barbeque sauce and cherries <br />Whipped cream, honey, butter and strawberries<br />She was slimy, she was greasy she was slippery when wet<br />She was the kinkiest girl that I had ever met<br /><br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />I said..SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br /><br />It’s a long story but I will make it fast<br />I never left her house from that day past<br />We had so much fun with each other<br />We decided to forever stick together<br />But first things first, and I took my stance<br />I sent her to a school to teach her to dance<br />No more offbeat shaking. No more rich girl faking.<br />After a few months she learn to groove<br />She learned to really make her bucket move.<br />I like to watch her dance with ketchup on her body<br />She shakes her ass twice and then she’s got me<br />She asked me so sweetly for my bean pod<br />I get out of my clothes faster than I hot-*rod<br />But first I take a second to put on a glove<br />But then we get crazy we make ketchup love<br /><br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />I said..SHE DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE FUCKS LIKE A WHORE<br />SHE USED TO DANCES LIKE A RICH GIRL, <br />BUT SHE DOESN’T ANYMORE<br />(fortunately for me….she still fucks like a whore)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />______________________________________________________________<br />______________________________________________________________<br />______________________________________________________________<br /><br />FLOWERS AND THE COLOR OF PAINT<br /><br />Drifting across the country <br />on a pair of tracks.<br />Don’t know what I’ll find.<br />Don’t really care.<br />Cuz…danger isn’t danger <br />unless you feel fear.<br /><br />But since you left<br />don’t feel nothing at all.<br />Just numb all over,<br />indifferent to life<br /><br />I’ll get over you,<br />I promised me I would.<br />And start from scratch.<br />Maybe get happy again.<br />And laugh a little.<br />And talk about flowers <br />and the color of paint<br /><br />away from what you want<br />away from what you love<br />away from what you don’t<br />away………<br /><br />but if you show up at my little shack<br />I’ll be over it and invite you in.<br />We’ll have tea and laugh.<br />And we’ll talk about flowers<br />and the color of paint<br /><br /><br />away from what you want<br />away from what you love<br />away from what from what you don’t<br />away………<br /><br /><br />We’ll always be friends.<br />That what you said.<br />Wasn’t sure what you meant<br />Now I finally do.<br />Sure…you can never have <br />too many friends.<br />But love, <br />now that’s a different story<br />it’s life’s alarm clock<br />and without it, <br />I’d never get up.<br />Just stay in my bed to rot.<br />And I’d never laugh.<br />And I’d never talk about flowers <br />or the color of paint.<br /><br />away from what you want<br />away from what you love<br />away from what from what you don’t<br />away………<br /><br />The adventure is there<br />for those that don’t fear<br />to start from scratch,<br />maybe get happy again.<br /><br /><br />away from what you know<br />away from what you love<br />away from what from what you don’t<br />away………<br /><br />But if you plan to visit <br />my new shack of hope,<br />bring with you only your laugh,<br />flower…..and some paint.<br /><br />away………<br /><br /><br />STREET LOYALTY<br /><br />I been poor and brother I have been rich<br />I’ve sat behind a desk and I’ve dug a ditch<br />Rode on a skateboard and in a private plane<br />I’ve been a nobody and I’ve known some fame<br />I’ve got no loyalty to the street <br />not a dirt road not Arbor Lane<br />No matter where I happen to stay <br />deep inside I’m always feeling the same<br /><br />I’m at home inside of myself<br />Either with or without any wealth<br />Through the years, I have always believed<br />There’s more to life than money<br />But sometimes I can also see,<br />Just cuz a person’s rich don’t mean they got it easy<br />Don’t be judging ‘less you wanna get judged<br />Only closed-mind suckers hold a grudge<br />And I got…..<br />No loyalty to any street<br />Not Parker Drive. Not Eighth Street.<br />Only one place to avoid the commotion.<br />Safe on a blade, floating around out in the ocean.<br /><br />I’ve been poor and I’ve been rich<br />Slept at the Ritz and I slept in a ditch<br />My finances look like a cardiogram.<br />My bank account won’t tell you who I am.<br />Cuz it ain’t no street that made myself me.<br />Step into my vision and you’ll see.<br />Live and let live, those words ain’t no joke.<br />Whether you’re rich or one of the poor folk.<br />If you’re rich, but you live stressfully,<br />that don’t say much about your head mentally.<br />Just calm-out in the zone blue.<br />Or take a year off and try something new.<br />Catch a bus and get away.<br />Go to the eastside find a new place to stay.<br />No, they won’t like you at first.<br />For your blood they will probably thirst.<br />But try to make some peace with your brother.<br />Everybody on this planet shares a mother.<br />The mother earth gave us birth.<br />Not no ‘hood and not no nurse.<br />Peace to all the classes and the kinds…..<br />As long as you ain’t got no middleclass mind.<br />Cuz this kind of mentality<br />Is a little to much like ‘reality’.<br />Reality to me..means no imagination<br />No room for new ideas, new pulses or creations.<br /><br />NO LOYALTY. NO LOYALTY.<br />NO LOYALTY.NO LOYALTY.<br />NO LOYALTY.NO LOYALTY.<br /><br />I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor.<br />It’s been up and down since I was about four.<br />Slept in a garbage can, slept in a big house.<br />I’ve eaten caviar and I once ate a mouse.<br />But I didn’t complain when I was down.<br />My poverty I tried to ignore.<br />Because you’re only as poor as you feel.<br />If you’re poor don’t feel that you got a bad deal.<br />Because there’s people more poor than you don’t fear.<br />Some people can’t listen because that can’t hear.<br />If you got a set of speakers don’t bitch and complain.<br />Cuz music is the food to feed your brain.<br /><br />I got no loyalty to the street.<br />Not Eighth Street not Atalaia.<br />Cuz I’ve been poor and I’ve been rich<br />Slept at the Ritz and I’ve slept in a ditch.<br />Rode on a skateboard and in a private plane.<br />I’ve been nobody and I’ve known a little fame.<br />But no matter where am at or where I am<br />I’m always feeling like the very same man.<br /><br />No loyalty.No loyalty.No loyalty. No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.No loyalty.No loyalty.No loyalty.<br /><br />Got hit by a car when I was ten.<br />But this is now and that was then.<br />Mommy went broke trying to pay the bills.<br />Of the ICU down at the hospital.<br />From then on, we could barely afford to eat.<br />Now what does that got to do with any street?<br />Good luck bad luck, the name of the song.<br />I’ve had more bad luck than King Kong.<br />But I’ve had a lot of good luck too.<br />I’ve got a lot of thanks for the ocean blue.<br />She’s helped me out more than a lot.<br />Keeping my mind off the have and have-nots.<br />My loyalty down lie in street in street commotion.<br />I’ve give my praise to the motion of the ocean.<br />She kept me out of trouble, she kept me alive.<br />She kept me off the street away from guns and knives.<br />When I felt angry, or about to starve.<br />I dug a rail and began to carve<br />A liquid piece of the pie.<br />No longer felt like I wanted to die.<br /><br />I got no loyalty to the street.<br />Not a dirt road, not Pasadena Avenue.<br />Cuz I’ve been poor and I’ve been rich.<br />I slept at the Ritz and I slept in a ditch.<br />Slept on a rooftop, slept in the gutter.<br />Rode in a limousine. And I slept with your mother.<br />Been invited in. And thrown out of the door.<br />Out into the rain when it started to pour.<br />But what does that got to do with the street ?<br />Cuz it ain’t no street that made myself me.<br />I got no loyalty to the street.<br />Not a dirt road, not Curson Ave.<br />Cuz I’ve been poor I’ve been rich<br />Slept at the Ritz and slept in a ditch.<br />Rode on a skateboard and in a private plane.<br />I’ve been nobody and I’ve known a little fame.<br />No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.<br />No loyalty.<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-115886082824176389?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1158718387174277212006-09-19T19:10:00.000-07:002006-09-19T19:13:07.193-07:00BY: ITHAKA DARIN PAPPAS <br />(RAVENSHARKMUSIC/ASCAP)<br /><br />"SO GET UP"<br />.......................................................<br /><br />THE END OF THE EARTH IS UPON US<br />PRETTY SOON IT’LL ALL TURN TO DUST<br /><br />SO GET UP <br />FORGET THE PAST<br /><br />GO OUTSIDE <br />HAVE A BLAST<br /><br />GO A THOUSAND MILES IN A JET AIRPLANE<br />GO OUT OF YOUR MIND GO INSANE<br /><br />TO A PLACE YOU NEVER BEEN BEFORE<br />EAT ICE CREAM OUR YOU’LL LICK THE FLOOR<br /><br />CUZ, THE END OF THE EARTH IS UPON US<br />PRETTY SOON IT’LL ALL TUN TO DUST<br /><br />GOODBYE MY FRIENDS<br />GOODBYE WORLD<br /><br />I’LL SEE YOU IN THE NEXT LIFE<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-115871838717427721?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1157507719172148282006-09-05T18:42:00.000-07:002006-09-05T18:55:19.200-07:00Lyrics for ITHAKA album,<br />SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF SOMALIA (2001)<br />courtesy Memory lane Music Group-NY<br />____________________________________________________________<br />____________________________________________________________<br /><br />1.(intro) SO YOU’RE GOING THERE ?<br /><br />Doctor: I see so you’re going there ?<br /><br />Ith: Yeah<br /><br />Doctor: I always ask, strictly in the name of science of course,<br />to measure the crania of everyone going THERE.<br /><br />Ith: Why? Have you seen changes?<br /><br />Doctor: I never see them…IF they come back<br /><br />Ith: WHaaattttt ???!!!!<br /><br />Doctor: Beside you know, the changes take place on the inside……<br />Are you absolutely sure you want to go there ?<br /><br />Ith: I Gotta<br /><br />Doctor:…excuse my question, but is there any history of madness in your family?<br /><br />_________________________________________________________________________________<br />_________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />2. WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br /><br />Artist(s): ITHAKA (featuring E. BLACK & Don Stryke)<br />Produced by: Conley Abrams III<br />Where: from the NBA 2K7 xbox-360 game soundtrack<br />also appears on Ithaka´s album, <br />SOMEHWERE SOUTH OF SOMALIA (see ITUNES.com)<br /><br /><br />lyrics:<br /><br />I'm out there going for mine<br />'cause time don't grow on trees<br /><br /><br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />GOTTA GET DONE WHATCHA NEED TO GET DONE<br />'cause SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO <br /><br />(ithaka)<br />In my spiritual graveyard, <br />here I'm stuck <br />Gotta bust out like I was ol' Fin Huck<br /><br />Gotta slip out the door, explore a little more <br />It ain't fun no more in the place I was born<br /><br />Got to get out while there is going to get LA is hunter, Lisbon the net<br /><br />Want to get out, but gotta fly alone<br />Ravenshark from two coasts who ain't got a zone <br /><br />(eric black)<br />In the zone I stand along handling mine<br />Coming straight from the town where I had the sky<br /><br />Bought a first class ticket to the LA town To explore new grounds, Ith hold me down<br /><br />So I can do what I gotta do for success<br />You know I want it all, I expect nothing less<br /><br />The rest will all come together in time<br />Eric Black, Ithaka and young Stryke on the grind <br /><br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA ROLL WHEN YA GOTTA ROLL 'cause SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br /><br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA MOVE WHEN YOU GOTTA MOVE YOU GOTTA GET DONE WHATCHA NEED TO GET DONE 'cause SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO <br /><br />(ithaka)<br /><br />Ain't from the old school, ain't from the new <br />I'm the Fishdaddy from the depths of the pool<br /><br />Don't need a fly ride, don't need a fat crib <br />Don't need a woman looking for a 'grip'<br />Time to hit the road, time for me to roam <br />I'm tired of seeing the movies, I wanna live my own<br /><br />Don't play by the book, 'cause you'll get took <br />Don't play by the book, 'cause you'll get shook <br />Don't play by the book, 'cause you'll get took <br />Don't play by the book, 'cause you're gonna get shook<br /><br /><br />(don stryke)<br /><br />Times is hard as I walk the yard<br />My street way of living got me temporarily barred<br /><br />From kicking it with my folks<br />So I'm forced to hit the weights and make some brand new yolks<br /><br />In a situation do or die<br />Is when I do what I gotta do, tell mamma don't cry<br /><br />'Cause I might not be coming home<br />If they keep testing me and making me sharpen my chrome <br /><br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA FIGHT WHEN YOU GOTTA FIGHT SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA STRIKE WHEN YOU GOTTA STRIKE 'cause SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br /><br />pick a ticket up, pick a ticket up<br />don't be afraid to ride that bus<br />pick a ticket up, pick a ticket up<br />don't be afraid to ride that bus<br />Ithaka, E. Black, D. Stryke<br /><br />(ithaka)<br />Escaped from the place of shadows and devils <br />The mystery of life I wanted to unravel<br /><br />(e black)<br />I had to move away, change my lifestyle<br />I didn't want to be locked down in the Penal<br /><br />(stryke)<br />I feels ya 'Black', I'm in a dark place<br />I'm still trying to find my way out the maze<br /><br />(ithaka)<br />Lisbon, London, Amsterdam, Nairobi<br />Fish outta water, like Oki from Muscogee<br /><br />(e black)<br />I knew I had style, I could do my thing<br />So I hit the frontier on the quest for finer things<br /><br />(stryke)<br />I wish I could hit the highway now<br />But I gotta hit my cell before the lock down<br /><br />(ithaka)<br />Sell your longboard, your Pinto '74<br />Stick a pin in the map and let the dice roll<br /><br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />GOTTA GET DONE WHATCHA NEED TO GET DONE<br />'cause SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br /><br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />YOU GOTTA GET DONE WHATCHA NEED TO GET DONE<br /> 'cause <br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO<br />YOU GOTTA GET DONE WHATCHA NEED TO GET DONE<br /><br />__________________________________________________________________<br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />3. MY MIND AND MY BODY<br />Lyrics By Ithaka -Music: Conley Abrams III<br /><br />My Mind <br />and my body<br />Sometimes drift,<br />Over the mountains<br />And across the sea<br />Looking for someone<br />And someplace <br />to believe<br /><br />________________________________________________<br />________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />4. Dugout Canoe<br />lyrics: ithaka-music: conley Abrams III<br /><br />You won’t believe it, but it’s true<br />Rode the barrel of my life in an old canoe<br />Coast flat like never seen, Not one swell from June 16<br />Cryin’ shame, reef would’ve formed<br />Perfect left front of my new home<br />But a typhoon blew in that night<br />Ripped the roof off the hut, like it was a kite<br />By morning the storm had passed us up<br />Left a lot of damage for us to clean up<br />Now the waves were huge, surface smooth<br />But my stick was missing from out my room<br />Did it blow away in the screaming wind?<br />Or was it stolen by some thievin’ kid ?<br /><br /> THE WAVES WERE HUGE, SURFACE SMOOTH<br /> BUT MY STICK WAS MISSING FROM OUT MY ROOM<br /> FINALLY GOT SWELL, WE GOT FAT TUBES<br /> BUT I AIN’T GOT A BLADE, ALL I GOT’S A CANOE<br /><br />Paddled out in that old wood tub<br />Handcut mango, a.d 31<br />Through the channel, didn’t even get wet<br />Then in front appeared a ten-meter set<br />Paddled with all the juice I could find<br />Hanging on the lip, spray a-makin’ me blind<br />Where was Seabra at a time like this?<br />The kind of day Senhor Phycho don’t miss<br />Tossed airborn down the face<br />Laid back coffin-style, but it wadn’t grace<br />Opened my eyes in tube bigger than a hut<br />Liquid-lip rollin’ glass cup<br />Sucked me up, sucked me over<br />Insane prehistoric El Rollo<br /><br /> THE WAVES WERE HUGE, SURFACE SMOOTH<br /> BUT MY STICK WAS MISSING FROM OUT MY ROOM<br /> FINALLY GOT SWELL, WE GOT FAT TUBES<br /> BUT I AIN’T GOT A BLADE, ALL I GOT’S A CANOE<br /><br />Landed upright inside of the lip<br />Should I stay or should I jump ship ?<br />But no choice, got spit off<br />Was it a wave, or mighty Neptune’s cough?<br />Sucked backed over and landed on the reef<br />Luckily for me landed on my feet<br />Gashed to the bone, two toes ripped off<br />When along came Zambizi river shark<br />Smelled the blood, ready to eat me<br />Said, I’m Ithaka one of you, let me be<br />But he didn’t accept me credential<br />Looking at my limbs like they edible<br />Saved in the nick by a flying sea turtle<br />Rescued me up with a single hurdle<br />On top his iron-like shell I rode<br />Bleeding everywhere, all the way to the shore<br /><br /> THE WAVES WERE HUGE, SURFACE SMOOTH<br /> BUT MY STICK WAS MISSING FROM OUT MY ROOM<br /> FINALLY GOT SWELL, WE GOT FAT TUBES<br /> BUT I AIN’T GOT A BLADE, ALL I GOT’S A CANOE<br /><br />Up da beach into cliff side cave<br />Where Dr. Baboon wait for me to save<br />A parrot flew in with my toes<br />Cursing the shark, calling him “foe”<br />Surgery began without further delay<br />Put to sleep with anesthesia from stingray<br />Sewed my toes with coconut twine<br />Seventy stitches using porky’s pine<br />With toes back in tack, was left to rest<br />In the back of a cave near a pirate’s chest<br />Doctor said, we got this box<br />Full of gold an’ transparent rocks<br />We got no use for these worldly things<br />Take-em away and the trouble they bring<br /><br />Woke up back in my roofless hut<br />Looked down to my foot, but it wasn’t even cut<br /><br /> THE WAVES WERE HUGE, SURFACE SMOOTH<br /> BUT MY STICK WAS MISSING FROM OUT MY ROOM<br /> FINALLY GOT SWELL, WE GOT FAT TUBES<br /> BUT I AIN’T GOT A BLADE, ALL I GOT’S A CANOE<br /><br />_____________________________________________________<br />____________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />5. SNAKES IN THE RAFTERS<br /><br />lyrics: ithaka-music: conley Abrams III<br /><br />SNAKES IN THE RAFTERS AND RATS ON THE FLOOR<br />DON’T GOT NO WINDOWS, AIN’T GOT NO FRONT DOOR<br />MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE ROOF, SPIDERS UNDER THE BED<br />THERE’S A CAT IN THE CORNER, BUT I THINK IT’S DEAD<br /><br />A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend<br />Of yet another friend of another friend <br /><br />Had rooms to rent, coast-Tanzania<br />With reef-break bowls style-Polynesia<br /><br />After weeks in ‘Robi* overdue for some glide<br />Mombassa Express down to seaside<br /><br />Mount Kenya on the left, Mount Killy** on the right<br />Twelve-hour train ride through the African night<br /><br />Then matatu*** rollin’ snail’s pace<br />Two more days just to find the place<br /><br />Found Ali the man in question<br />Mr. Ali asked me my intention<br /><br />For cheap rooms a friend sent me<br />He said, There’s only one, but we got vacancy<br /><br />SNAKES IN THE RAFTERS AND RATS ON THE FLOOR<br />DON’T GOT NO WINDOWS, AIN’T GOT NO FRONT DOOR<br />MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE ROOF, SPIDERS UNDER THE BED<br />THERE’S A CAT IN THE CORNER, BUT I THINK IT’S DEAD<br /><br />The price is twelve US Dollars<br />Twelve-dollars a night? Ali you’re a robber<br /><br />No, twelve dollars a year-that’s the rent<br />But you got to get your own mosquito net<br /><br /><br />Twelve dollars a year ?! Does it have running water ?<br />No it don’t, but it ain’t that big a bother<br /><br /><br />Got a well nearby, all the water you need<br />And gardens of bud, if ya got the need for weed<br /><br />We got a lotta sun, we got fresh fish<br />Mangos, coconuts…more things you couldn’t wish<br /><br />Don’t judge our wealth, but the size of our smiles<br />Variety of fruit poisonous reptiles<br /><br />Twelve dollars a year, discount on decade<br />My sisters be single and live up on the hillside<br /><br /><br />SNAKES IN THE RAFTERS AND RATS ON THE FLOOR<br />DON’T GOT NO WINDOWS, AIN’T GOT NO FRONT DOOR<br />MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE ROOF, SPIDERS UNDER THE BED<br />THERE’S A CAT IN THE CORNER, BUT I THINK IT’S DEAD<br /><br />Ali’s sisters brought breakfast to the hut<br />Both fat n forty never had a husband<br /><br />Good morning sleep well ? No, slept with a spider<br />Bit me twenty times, an erotic all-nighter<br /><br />And that cat in the corner, that WAS dead<br />Chased rats in circles around the bed<br /><br />Still could’ve slept if the lion didn’t roar<br />But when he stopped, monkeys started to snore<br /><br />Eat this they said and you’ll feel better<br />Ostrich egg omlet with crocodile gizzards<br /><br />Today Mzungo**** is your lucky day<br />Today you choose one of us to marry<br /><br /><br />SNAKES IN THE RAFTERS AND RATS ON THE FLOOR<br />DON’T GOT NO WINDOWS, AIN’T GOT NO FRONT DOOR<br />MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE ROOF, SPIDERS UNDER THE BED<br />THERE’S A CAT IN THE CORNER, BUT I THINK IT’S DEAD<br /><br />* ’Robi= Nairobi capital of Kenya<br />**Mount Killy= Mount Kilamajaro<br /> *** matatu=bus in Swahili<br />**** mzungo= foreigner in Swahili<br />______________________________________________________<br />______________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />6. Three good shots<br />words: ithaka<br /><br />Three shots<br />One rhino<br />Three good shots<br />One big bad dead rhino<br /><br />_________________________________________________<br />________________________________________________<br /><br />7. RANA LINDA (I can make a difference)<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley Abrams III<br /><br />Met at the film lab on Kigali Road<br />I took the bus (but) she gave me a ride home<br /><br />We went back to her little shack of hope<br />Held together with love and a little bit of rope<br /><br />Photos on the walls from a hundred trips<br />All telling stories of endless hardships<br /><br />Rana Linda from Colorado<br />At home in mountains, jungles and ghettos<br /><br />She made rigatoni, told me her life story<br />Life full of gore, but not a lot of glory<br /><br />Photographs war and death for a living<br />She hasn’t been home since last Thanksgiving<br /><br />I KNOW WHAT I DO AIN’T GOOD FOR MY HEALTH<br />I KNOW WHAT I DO WON’T BRING ME WEALTH<br />BUT IS IT NAÏVE TO THINK <br />THAT I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE?....<br />I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE<br /><br />Last spring did a story in Rwanda<br />About perpetrators of local propaganda<br /><br />The only reporter in war zone<br />To record raid of a thousand village homes<br /><br />Just a preview of things to come<br />A massacre followed, but Rana didn’t run<br /><br />The pictures, she knew, could save lives<br />But a boy came to her, blood pouring out his eyes<br /><br />Should she go ? Or should she stay ?<br />Or take him to the hospital three hours away ?<br /><br />Was it wrong or was it right?<br />Should she have stayed ? Or saved his life?<br /><br />I KNOW WHAT I DO AIN’T GOOD FOR MY HEALTH<br />I KNOW WHAT I DO WON’T BRING ME WEALTH<br />BUT IS IT NAÏVE TO THINK <br />THAT I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE?....<br />I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE<br /><br />On TV, it’s easy to believe<br />Peace is a choice that’s easy to achieve<br /><br />But I can tell you this, it’s no pantomime<br />You can only turn your cheek yo so many times<br /><br />Then you gotta stand up fo’ yo’self<br />Or be victim to dictators’ wealth<br /><br />TIME* just called, now I’m off to Zaire<br />Every trip new terror, every trip new fear<br /><br />I’m not feeling good about this, it’s easy to see<br />So if it’s not too much, can you just hold me?<br /><br />Tomorrow I’ll be on the frontier<br />But this is NOW, we alive and here<br /><br /><br /><br />I KNOW WHAT I DO AIN’T GOOD FOR MY HEALTH<br />I KNOW WHAT I DO WON’T BRING ME WEALTH<br />BUT IS IT NAÏVE TO THINK <br />THAT I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE?....<br />I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE<br /><br />I KNOW WHAT I DO AIN’T GOOD FOR MY HEALTH<br />I KNOW WHAT I DO WON’T BRING ME WEALTH<br />BUT IS IT NAÏVE TO THINK <br />THAT I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE?....<br />I CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE<br /><br />* Time Magazine<br /><br />____________________________________________________<br />_____________________________________________________<br /><br />8. Mr. MOSQUITO<br />Lyrics: ithaka-music: zeldo (aka steve zeldin)<br /><br /><br />Down at the coast<br />Having a good time<br />Daylight’s trouble free<br />No stress to the mind<br />But at sundown<br />Coming out by the millions<br />The world’s number one<br />Killer of civilians<br /><br />Mr. Mosquito don’t bite me<br />Don’t make me scratch, don’t make me bleed<br />Mr. Mosquito don’t bite me<br />Don’t want to catch your disease<br /><br />If you don’t mind, can you spare my life ?<br />I used repellant, won’t you fly on by<br />I know you want my blood<br />But you ain’t gonna get it<br />Try as you must<br />But you might as well forget it <br /><br />Mr. Mosquito don’t bite me<br />Don’t make me scratch, don’t make me bleed<br />Mr. Mosquito don’t bite me<br />Don’t want to catch your disease<br /><br />___________________________________________________<br />___________________________________________________<br /><br />9. THE UGLY AMERICAN<br />lyrics: ithaka – music conley abrams III<br /><br />Sold the house in LA, apartment New York<br />Twenty-hour nonstop to Nairobi airport<br /><br />Bought a deluxe black Range Rover<br />With tinted windows and cd-sorter<br /><br />Bought a map, headed for coast<br />Bought thirty-acres beachfront and brand new boat<br /><br />Paid natives to burn down trees<br />Who the hell were they to disagree ?<br /><br />Needed room for tennis court and swimming pool<br />In this land too, rich usually rule<br /><br />Built a house like no house ever seen<br />Fifteen bedrooms all fit for kings<br /><br />A year later, palace complete<br />Bel Aire mansion in the African heat<br /><br />HE’S PAID HIS DUES <br />HE’S PAID THE PRICE TWICE<br />BUT HIS SOUL WILL ROT IN PARADISE<br /><br />Electric fence, five-meters high<br />Keep out the crooks, but the monkeys die<br /><br />But he’s a Man and a man has to protect his land<br />From thieves and thugs trying to get the upper hand<br /><br />A satellite dish and internet<br />Alone he drinks gin at sunset<br /><br />Out on the veranda overlooking the sea<br />Indeed he pretends to be pleased<br /><br /><br />No convenience did he sacrifice<br />Cuz he’s got the goods, he got the merchandise<br /><br />He raped his maid, but what can she do ?<br />Her mama needs medicine, her kids need food<br /><br />But he’s a Man, bad man, sick man, evil man<br />But a rich man and rich men rule the land<br /><br />Killed a rhino while he smoked a cigar<br />High-powered shot from a moving car<br /><br />Paid a bribe to the game park ranger<br />To keep his identity a stranger<br /><br />HE’S PAID HIS DUES <br />HE’S PAID THE PRICE TWICE<br />BUT HIS SOUL WILL ROT IN PARADISE<br /><br />_________________________________________________<br />__________________________________________________<br /><br />10. ONE GOOD SHOT (email to an ex-wife)<br />Words:ithaka<br /><br />Dear Hilary,<br />I love this new world<br />That I’ve had the luck to discover.<br />The mountains, the sky and the sea<br />Are all helping me to recover<br />From some bad times and some bad years.<br />Finally forgiven my enemies.<br />Finally forgotten my fears.<br /><br />(SHOT!)<br /><br />ONE SHOT<br />ONE POACHER<br />ONE GOOD SHOT<br />ONE BIG BAD DEAD POACHER<br />ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ<br /><br />________________________________________<br />________________________________________<br /><br />11.BLACK ROCK<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley abrams III<br /><br />Pretty Mwanisha, the flower of this coast<br />On her way back to the village with fish for the roast<br /><br />Stopped to make a wish under baobab tree<br />To remain forever happy as she’d been<br /><br />But in her path, she met the big green mambo*<br />Who smiled at her and greeted her with, Jambo**<br /><br />Fangs of death through her young skin<br />Given by a green slithering assassin<br /><br />BLACK ROCK, BLACK ROCK SAVE HER LIFE<br />BITTEN BY THE MAMBO, TIME TO FIND A KNIFE<br />CUT THE BITE WOUND, OPEN WIDE<br />PUT THE BLACK ROCK ON AND PRAY SHE DON’T DIE<br /><br />Found by a Digo*** boy named Bakari<br />Who knew about black rock sorcery<br /><br />A magic black stone, dat could pull poison out a bite<br />And make someone near death suddenly feel all right<br /><br />He cut through where the snake left its mark<br />Stuck the stone on and it did its part<br /><br />Drank all the venom from out of her blood<br />And when the stone was done, it fell off with a thud<br /><br /><br />BLACK ROCK, BLACK ROCK SAVE HER LIFE<br />BITTEN BY THE MAMBO, TIME TO FIND A KNIFE<br />CUT THE BITE WOUND, OPEN WIDE<br />PUT THE BLACK ROCK ON AND PRAY SHE DON’T DIE<br /><br />Isha opened her eyes and saw Bakari’s face<br />Trying to recall how she got to this place<br /><br />He helped her up and up to her feet<br />She thanked him with a kiss then said, time to eat<br /><br />Invited him back to her family’s hut <br />Where they roasted the samaki**** with cashew nuts<br /><br />She said a prayer of thanks to be so blessed<br />Blessed to be alive, with the fish still fresh<br /><br />BLACK ROCK, BLACK ROCK SAVE HER LIFE<br />BITTEN BY THE MAMBO, TIME TO FIND A KNIFE<br />CUT THE BITE WOUND, OPEN WIDE<br />PUT THE BLACK ROCK ON AND PRAY SHE DON’T DIE<br /><br />*Green mambo= one of the most venomous snakes in Africa<br />** jambo=Swahili for, hello<br />*** Digo: one of the most prominent tribes in coastal Kenya<br />**** samaki=Swahili word for fish<br /><br />_____________________________________________________________<br />_____________________________________________________________<br /><br />12. Lapis Lazuli/Mother of Pearl<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley abrams III<br /><br />Hey, why are you out here ?....Yeah, me too<br />You know, they say that when the moon<br /> has that rainbow ring thing around it like tonight,<br />that amazing unusual things can happen<br /><br /><br />New Year’s party up near Tiwi Reef<br />I don’t like crowds, stayed out on the beach<br /><br />And met a lovely, young goddess-like being<br />Just the moon, the sea, some understanding<br /><br />We had an instant, spell-like connection<br />A mixture of attraction and perception<br /><br />With the smell of magic in the air<br />Ravenshark and Goddess…unlikely pair<br /><br />She said, I don’t know you’re name…but let’s walk<br />Down the beach, ‘til forever we can talk<br /><br />LET’S KEEP ON WALKING ‘TIL THE END OF THE WORLD <br />YOU BE MY LAPIS LAZULI, I’LL BE YOUR MOTHER OF PEARL<br />The sky and the sea became the same blue. <br />She said, let’s start now our search for truth<br />LET’S KEEP ON WALKING ‘TIL THE END OF THE WORLD<br />YOU BE MY LAPIS LAZULI, I’LL BE YOUR MOTHER OF PEARL<br /><br />Past the last of electrical wires<br />Past the remnants of tribal fires<br /><br />Light-bugs glowed all around our heads<br />Like little magic flowers for some newlyweds<br /><br />Then…..Come On, she said, taking off her dress<br />Let’s go for a swim, make a New Year’s wish<br /><br />Skinny-dipping in a lukewarm see<br />Holding each other and soul-kissing<br /><br />Just the dawn, the sea, some understanding<br />And for the New Year a new beginning<br /><br />LETS KEEP ON WALKING ‘TIL THE END OF THE WORLD<br />YOU BE MY LAPIS LAZULI, I’LL BE YOUR MOTHER OF PEARL<br /><br />The sky and sea became the same blue,<br />like the honeymoon of Luna and Neptune<br /><br />LETS KEEP ON WALKING ‘TIL THE END OF THE WORLD<br />YOU BE MY LAPIS LAZULI I’LL BE YOUR MOTHER OF PEARL<br /><br />spoken line alternates in later chores after trumpet solo:<br /><br />The sky and sea became the same blue,<br /> the full moon will be our time capsule<br /><br />The sky and sea became the same blue, <br />She said, I don’t know you, but I still love you<br /><br />_____________________________________________________<br />_____________________________________________________<br /><br />13. VISIT WITH PROFESSOR NGAWA<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley abrams III<br /><br />YOUR PROBLEMS IN LIFE AIN’T JUST BAD LUCK<br />YOU BEEN CURSED TO MAKE YOU SELF-DESTRUCT<br />YOU WEAR TUKANA* LIKE A DEATH COLLAR<br />BUT NGAWA CAN REMOVE FOR A THOUSAND DOLLARS<br /><br />River Road, Nairobi - Saturday the Eighth<br />Looking down the streets for a spot to stay<br /><br />Read a sign, FORTUNE BY NGAWA<br />At the street door of an old wood tower<br /><br />Something fun to tell the crew back home<br />Fortune told by a fake on River Road<br /><br />Climbed six flights of creaky stairs<br />Laughing to myself, I’s still unaware<br /><br />That Ngawa was a voodoo priest<br />From way down south in Mozambique<br /><br />Paid a hundred Bob** at the door of his den<br />Sat on down next to a headless hen<br /><br />With a fish, sea star and wooden mask<br />He began from the start to tell me the past<br /><br />You were a shark in a past life, a raven in another<br />But followed through time by jealous blood-suckers<br /><br />YOUR PROBLEMS IN LIFE AIN’T JUST BAD LUCK<br />YOU BEEN CURSED TO MAKE YOU SELF-DESTRUCT<br />YOU WEAR TUKANA* LIKE A DEATH COLLAR<br />BUT NGAWA CAN REMOVE FOR A THOUSAND DOLLARS<br /><br />Ya Mama’s bit by a spider on birthday morn<br />The widow’s bite almost left you stillborn <br /><br />Another close call when you was ten<br />Hit by a car almost got done in<br /><br /><br />Left LA to make something of yourself<br />Left your family alone, you’re feeling selfish<br /><br />Moved to Athens, then Tokyo<br />And on to Lisbon, broke no joke<br /><br />You put out the juice, you dropped the hit<br />But USL didn’t pay you jack shit<br /><br />YOUR PROBLEMS IN LIFE AIN’T JUST BAD LUCK<br />YOU BEEN CURSED TO MAKE YOU SELF-DESTRUCT<br />YOU WEAR TUKANA* LIKE A DEATH COLLAR<br />BUT NGAWA CAN REMOVE FOR A THOUSAND DOLLARS<br /><br />A spell so evil, a spell so cruel<br />To keep you living like a rat in a dark cesspool<br /><br />A life of bad luck is what you’re gonna see<br />And only me, Ngawa can remove this deed<br /><br />A thousand US Dollars should do the trick<br />You can pay with cash, you can pay with credit<br /><br />Ngawa, I said, You know damn well<br />Ain’t got no curse, you can go to hell<br /><br />The bad luck I had, I made myself<br />Along with the good, these cards I’ve delt<br /><br />Take your hocus-pocus shove it up your ass<br />I live in the present, the bad was in the past <br /><br />YOUR PROBLEMS IN LIFE AIN’T JUST BAD LUCK<br />YOU BEEN CURSED TO MAKE YOU SELF-DESTRUCT<br />YOU WEAR TUKANA* LIKE A DEATH COLLAR<br />BUT NGAWA CAN REMOVE FOR A THOUSAND DOLLARS<br /><br /><br />Now if you’ll excuse me, I got things to see<br />Drinks to drink, people to meet<br /><br />Trying to take advantage of mzungo-man***<br />Rot in hell with your witch doctor scam<br /><br />You’ll be back, you’ll be back<br />You’ll be back, you’ll be back<br /><br />Mzungo-man you’ll be back you’ll see<br />Mzungo-man no escape Uchawi****<br /><br />YOU’LL BE BACK, YOU’LL BE BACK<br /><br />Down I went out of that tower<br />On to River Road at the midnight hour<br /><br />YOUR PROBLEMS IN LIFE AIN’T JUST BAD LUCK<br />YOU BEEN CURSED TO MAKE YOU SELF-DESTRUCT<br />YOU WEAR TUKANA* LIKE A DEATH COLLAR<br />BUT NGAWA CAN REMOVE FOR A THOUSAND DOLLARS<br /><br />• <br />• <br /> *Tukana: Swahili for curse, black magic, to be cursed<br /> ** Bob: slang for Kenyan Schilling $<br />*** mzungo-man: Swahili for foreigner<br />**** Uchawi: Swahili for black magic<br /><br />___________________________________________<br />___________________________________________<br /><br />14. UPENDO<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley abrams III<br /><br />How do you say…how would YOU say…I love you?<br />UPENDO<br />Taka-kua manamake<br />UPENDO<br />Shikwa na kapenzi<br />Shikwa na mapenzi<br />UPENDO<br />Ucho mahaba<br />Ashiki halili<br />UPENDO<br />Love<br />UPENDO<br />I love you<br />Hawa bembeleza<br />Tamani Pembeleza<br />UPENDO<br />Penda tiba mchumba<br />Upendo hawa huba<br />Pendo tiba<br />UPENDO<br />Pendo tiba mchumba<br />UPENDO<br />Nataka kukua<br />Penda tiba<br />UPENDO<br />Nampemba Mwanamume<br />Shikwa na mapenzi<br />UPENDO<br />Ucho Mahaba<br />UPENDO<br />__________________________________________<br />__________________________________________<br />15. RIVER ROAD<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley abrams III<br /><br />THIS IS RIVER ROAD WHERE LIFE IS CHEAP<br />WHERE YOU CAN GIT YOURSELF KILLED <br />FOR THE PRICE OF A DRINK<br />SO IF YOU AIN’T FROM HERE, NO PLACE TO CREEP<br />CUZ PEOPLE DISAPPEAR FROM HERE WITHOUT A PEEP<br /><br />Back out on the street paved with broken glass<br />Feeling fearless and ready to forget my past<br /><br />People drinking and dancing on every corner<br />Each and all celebratin’, among them was no mourners<br /><br />But got held up by a group of River Road kids<br />Only thirteen years old, but their blades was big<br /><br />A street whore ran in to the building they ran<br />Came out five minutes later with my wallet in her hand<br /><br />She gave it back to me. Believe it or not it’s true<br />My ID was there and my money too<br /><br />I’m sorry, she said, but some people have no manners<br />My name is Esther and I charge by the hour<br /><br />So let’s go upstairs, let me show you a good time<br />Cuz there ain’t nothing wrong with a little bump-n-grind<br /><br />Well thank you dear Esther, but I think I’ll pass<br />Ain’t got no rubbers and I don’t pay for ass<br /><br />But if you got the time, let me by you a drink<br />Well…ok, maybe one, she said with a wink<br /><br /><br />You’ll get yourself killed on River Road……..<br />THIS IS RIVER ROAD WHERE LIFE IS CHEAP<br />WHERE YOU CAN GIT YOURSELF KILLED <br />FOR THE PRICE OF A DRINK<br />SO IF YOU AIN’T FROM HERE,AIN’T NO PLACE TO CREEP<br />CUZ PEOPLE DISAPPEAR FROM HERE WITHOUT A PEEP<br /><br />Now up some dirty stairs to a bar full of thugs<br />We drank fresh mnazi* outta giant wooden mugs<br /><br />Fermented palm sap that’ll make your head spin<br />‘fore it makes it your stomach, it starts to kick in<br /><br />Then Esther left the lounge to meet up with a client<br />Left me with her pimp named, Johnny The Giant<br /><br />We sat down at a table with some rough-necked dregs<br />One guy had one eye, another guy had one leg<br /><br />And there was Dragon-Breath Joseph and Gold-Tooth Jack<br />And Ngugi-The Kikuya, Nairobi’s mack of all macks<br /><br />A motley looking crew from start to finish<br />I listened to their stories of survival of the fittest<br /><br />Heard a hundred tales of the River Road life<br />“bout living off their hos, ‘bout living off the night<br /><br />Selling a little dope and making a little Bob**<br />But still down and out, eating corn on the cob<br /><br />THIS IS RIVER ROAD WHERE LIFE IS CHEAP<br />WHERE YOU CAN GIT YOURSELF KILLED <br />FOR THE PRICE OF A DRINK<br />SO IF YOU AIN’T FROM HERE, AIN’T NO PLACE TO CREEP<br />CUZ PEOPLE DISAPPEAR FROM HERE WITHOUT A PEEP<br /><br />But the vibe seemed cool story after story<br />They had a lot of pride for their underground glory<br /><br />Seven rounds later, I was feeling kinda whacked<br />Got up to take a whiz, telling ‘em, Be Right Back<br /><br />Unzipped and let the stream flow<br />When alongside of me, a young afroed bro<br /><br /><br />Said: Mzungo*** brother, I speak to you as a friend<br />Overheard them thugs talking, you’s about to get done in<br /><br />This is the wrong time, this is the wrong place<br />Disappear from here, you disappear with no trace<br /><br />This is River Road, Nairobi where life is cheap<br />You can get yourself killed for the price of a drink<br /><br />So take my advice, finish your piss and split<br />If ya hurry up, maybe you can give ‘em the slip<br /><br />Paranoia swept over me<br />I had but one choice and that was to flee<br /><br />Zipped up, bolted out the door<br />And down the stairs past a couple of whores<br /><br />But them mongrels was already on to me<br />And I didn’t look back as I hit the street<br /><br />AND THE CHASE WAS ON AT THE BREAK OF DAWN<br />AND THE CHASE WAS ON AT THE BREAK OF DAWN<br />AND THE CHASE WAS ON AT THE BREAK OF DAWN<br />AND THE CHASE WAS ON AT THE BREAK OF DAWN<br /><br />With people laughing, screaming and cheering<br />At the long-haired mzungo about to git a skinnin’<br /><br />THIS IS RIVER ROAD WHERE LIFE IS CHEAP<br />WHERE YOU CAN GIT YOURSELF KILLED <br />FOR THE PRICE OF A DRINK<br />SO IF YOU AIN’T FROM HERE , AIN’T NO PLACE TO CREEP<br />CUZ PEOPLE DISAPPEAR FROM HERE WITHOUT A PEEP<br /><br />But kept a lead on ‘em all the way downtown<br />Hopped into a cab, I was lucky to have found<br /><br />Cabbie said, Look like they wanted to kill<br />Yeah, guess I forgot to pay my bill<br /><br />THIS IS RIVER ROAD WHERE LIFE IS CHEAP<br />WHERE YOU CAN GIT YOURSELF KILLED <br />FOR THE PRICE OF A DRINK<br />SO IF YOU AIN’T FROM HERE, AIN’T NO PLACE TO CREEP<br />CUZ PEOPLE DISAPPEAR FROM HERE WITHOUT A PEEP<br /><br />• *mnazi: fermented palm tree beer<br />• **Bob: slang for Kenyan Schilling $<br />• *** mzungo: Swahili for foreigner<br /><br />_________________________________________________________<br />_________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br />16. NGAWA’S REVENGE<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley abrams III<br /><br />Woke up one morning soaked with sweat<br />Delinquent payment for past karmic debt ?<br /><br />Nairobi Hospital, urgency area<br />No need worry, probably malaria<br /><br />Jab with needle and check the result<br />Cuz, if you no got it, we no give antidote<br /><br />An hour later, test read “negative”<br />They said, Try again later…if you live<br /><br />But that wasn’t funny, I kept getting sicker<br />My head burning, my tongue gettin’ thicker<br /><br />“Negative” again, what had I caught?<br />In Room 20, I laid waiting to rot<br /><br />AIN’T FEELING GOOD, CAN’T STOP SWEATING<br />GOT A TEMPERATURE OF A HUNDRED AND SEVEN<br />WILL I LIVE ? WILL I DIE ?<br />WILL I FALL? WILL I FLY ?<br />PRAYIN’ TO A GOD THAT I DON’T EVEN KNOW<br />PLEASE FORGIVE EVERYTHING I DONE WRONG<br />LET ME GO HOME, IF YOU DON’T WANT ME IN HEAVEN<br />BREAK THIS FEVER OF A HUNDRED AND SEVEN<br /><br />There I was, six days in the mix<br />Like a broke watch with no chance of being fixed<br /><br />No one to ask, nothing to be said<br />I wondered if others had died in this bed<br /><br />That night, slept in a tub of ice water<br />Dreamt all night of my long-deceased father<br /><br />He said, It ain’t your time, still got life to live<br />A lesson to respect both Good and Wicked<br /><br /><br />AIN’T FEELING GOOD, CAN’T STOP SWEATING<br />GOT A TEMPERATURE OF A HUNDRED AND SEVEN<br />WILL I LIVE ? WILL I DIE ?<br />WILL I FALL? WILL I FLY ?<br />PRAYIN’ TO A GOD THAT I DON’T EVEN KNOW<br />PLEASE FORGIVE EVERYTHING I DONE WRONG<br />LET ME GO HOME, IF YOU DON’T WANT ME IN HEAVEN<br />BREAK THIS FEVER OF A HUNDRED AND SEVEN<br /><br />You’ll be back You’ll be back<br />You’ll be back You’ll be back<br />You’ll be back You’ll be back<br />You’ll be back You’ll be back<br /><br />Professor Ngawa, Professor Ngawa<br />Professor Ngawa, Professor Ngawa<br /><br />Professor Ngawa, you cursed me it was YOU !<br />YOU BE THE DEVIL, YOU TOOK ME FOR A FOOL !<br /><br />Will I live ? Will I die?<br />Will I fall ? Will I fly?<br />Will I live ? Will I die?<br />Will I fall ? Will I fly?<br /><br />Woke up in the tub with no fever<br />Free from, Professor Deceiver<br /><br />Said a prayer to the god I don’t know<br />Thanking him it wasn’t yet the end of the show<br /><br /><br />Gonna steer of the twilight<br />Just wanna live my mortal ravenshark life<br /><br />AIN’T FEELING GOOD, CAN’T STOP SWEATING<br />GOT A TEMPERATURE OF A HUNDRED AND SEVEN<br />WILL I LIVE ? WILL I DIE ?<br />WILL I FALL? WILL I FLY ?<br />PRAYIN’ TO A GOD THAT I DON’T EVEN KNOW<br />PLEASE FORGIVE EVERYTHING I DONE WRONG<br />LET ME GO HOME, IF YOU DON’T WANT ME IN HEAVEN<br />BREAK THIS FEVER OF A HUNDRED AND SEVEN<br /><br />__________________________________________________________<br />__________________________________________________________<br /><br />17. ENDLESS BUMMER<br />words: ithaka <br /><br />Looking out, above the beauty of the land<br />Hand-sculpted nature by a universal hand<br /><br />Could the Last Act really be near ?<br />Why is earth still hunted by man’s own spear ?<br /><br />Water be rising, ice be melting<br />Flowers be wilting, sun be pelting<br /><br />…anyway you wanna look at it;<br />The endless summer is an endless bummer.<br />Be worse than having a drum,<br />Without having a drummer<br /><br />We will always have love<br />We will always have hate<br />But will the birds and bees <br />and trees evaporate ?<br /><br />Happiness ain’t no lie<br />It’s just hard to find<br /><br />But don’t forget to love the world<br />When you’re trying to survive<br /><br />_________________________________________<br />_________________________________________<br /><br />18. MWAJUMA<br />lyrics: ithaka – music: conley Abrams<br /><br />Born a strong girl under the African sun<br />Up in the mountains of Kenya, 1951<br /><br />Grew up poor on her tribal land<br />Turned sixteen and went to work for The Man<br /><br />For more than thirty years, she’s made them their tea<br />Washed their clothes, cooked them their meat<br /><br />SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR ME<br />DREAM A LITTLE DREAM FOR ME<br />IT’S BEEN A LOT OF LONG YEARS GONE<br />SINCE I STOPPED DOING THE DREAMING<br /><br />One warm Langatta* morning in January<br />Amidst confusion, she was my sanctuary<br /><br />I got lost on my way back to town<br />But instead, a new friend’s what I found<br /><br />Met her every morning at the market in Karen**<br />Her forty-five minutes to conversate in freedom<br /><br />For two months in my life, I had a best friend<br />She spoke British with Swahili accent<br /><br />I was her confidante and she was mine<br />From eight-thirty in the morning, ‘til a quarter after nine<br /><br />She always smiles, but inside she’s sad<br />She tested Positive and her kids have no Dad<br /><br />SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR ME<br />DREAM A LITTLE DREAM FOR ME<br />IT’S BEEN A LOT OF LONG YEARS GONE<br />SINCE I STOPPED DOING THE DREAMING<br /><br />On the Friday morning of my departure<br />She brought me a single solitary blue flower<br /><br />Said, Ithaka-we didn’t know each other long<br />But I love you mzungo***, like you was my own son<br /><br />I’m glad you had good times in my land<br />But don’t ever forget, heaven and hell go hand in hand<br /><br />Lots of love and happiness and a lot of sorrow<br />Same as yesterday, same as tomorrow<br /><br />‘member me, Mwajuma in your far away land<br />Once upon a time, a strong African girl<br /><br /><br />SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR ME<br />DREAM A LITTLE DREAM FOR ME<br />IT’S BEEN A LOT OF LONG YEARS GONE<br />SINCE I STOPPED DOING THE DREAMING<br /><br /><br />(spoken part)<br />Since we first met, <br />she was always trying to fatten me up.<br />She’s say, “Boy, you’re just skin and bones…<br />Gotta put a little bit of weight on ya”<br />And she’d bring me these brown paper bags of food<br />Down to the open air market where we’d meet up.<br />And wherever I’d spot her, <br />she’d always have this big paper sack<br />sitting on top of her cart<br />full of cookies or cornmeal or last night’s casserole…<br />whatever…an it was funny, cuz….<br />She’s always handed me the bag <br />in secrecy under the table<br />when no one else was looking,<br />like it was some exchange <br />of highly valuable documents…<br />something private and special between us…<br />…and in a way it was….<br /><br />She always talked about her kids<br />And how happy she was<br />That they hadn’t met The Devil.<br />That’s how she talked <br />referring to her illness, The Devil.<br />Then she’d laugh and call Him a son of a bitch.<br />But I could never tell if she was talking about her illness,<br />or her dead husband that gave it to her….<br /><br />SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR ME<br />DREAM A LITTLE DREAM FOR ME<br />IT’S BEEN A LOT OF LONG YEARS GONE<br />SINCE I STOPPED DOING THE DREAMING<br /><br /><br />*Langatta: suburb of Nairobi<br /><br /> ** Karen: village outside of Nairobi named after<br />• legendary writer, Karen Blixen (Out of Africa)<br /><br /> ***mzungo: Swahili for foreigner<br /><br />__________________________________________________________<br />___________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br /><br />19. MY MIND AND MY BODY(reprise)<br />Lyrics By Ithaka -Music: Conley Abrams III<br /><br />My Mind <br />and my body<br />Sometimes drift,<br />Over the mountains<br />And across the sea<br />Looking for someone<br />And someplace <br />to believe<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-115750771917214828?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1157394919765314262006-09-04T11:31:00.000-07:002006-09-04T11:35:19.870-07:00rough draft for ithaka's <br />surfing-related short story book,<br />FISHDADDY CHRONICLES<br />__________________________________________________<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Ithaka’s<br />FISHDADDY<br />CHRONICLES<br /><br />c.2006<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />FISHDADDY CHRONICLES<br />by Ithaka Darin Pappas<br /><br />1. STILTS<br />2.OXYGEN FALLS<br />3.CARCAVELOS BROWNS<br />5. ZE DOS CAES<br />6. PALM TREE REEF<br />7. MOROCCO IS: <br />8. ADVENTURES IN ADVERTISING<br />9. THE FORGOTTEN FOUR<br />10. MOMENTS OF INSANITY<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />STILTS <br /><br />As a grom, <br />born and bred <br />in the pristine coastal suburbs,<br />Brick never imagined <br />that he was destined <br />to become an inlander.<br />Go Back To Pomona !<br />He’d yell down <br />to peroxide-haired body boarders<br />foraging for waves on the north side<br />of the Manhattan pier.<br /><br />Both his parents being prominent engineers<br />in the aerospace trade,<br />Brick never took into consideration <br />that not everyone in the world <br />was dealt a winning hand of cards.<br /><br />But the L.A. aerospace industry <br />shriveled up<br />and both his mom and dad <br />moved out of state (separately).<br />Brick was not about to relocate to either<br />Oklahoma or Arizona.<br />Eighteen and on his own.<br /><br />College now out of the question,<br />employment geographics<br />forced Brick deep into the depths <br />of urban Los Angeles….<br />..that was several years ago.<br /><br />As he exited his dense,<br />degregaded East L.A. neighborhood<br />onto the Santa Monica Freeway,<br />Go Back To Pomona !,<br />kept echoing <br />around the interior of his skull,<br />Go Back To Pomona !<br /><br />As usual,<br />the local news stations had been<br />over-exaggerating <br />the storm swells all season.<br />A High Surf Advisory<br />Didn’t actually mean BIG waves<br />It just ensured the following days<br />would be ridiculously packed.<br />But for once the predictions <br />and hype were reputable.<br /><br />As the 10 Freeway<br />poured him out onto <br />Pacific Coast Highway,<br />he saw the normally flat beach-breaks<br />a hollow but sloppy five-foot.<br />He was tempted to park it and surf Chattaugua<br />(it’d months since he’d <br />pulled into anything <br />even resembling a barrel).<br />But the urge kept him going.<br />Out past congested, six-foot Topanga<br />(even the Charthouse had twenty-five people out).<br />Thru Malibu, also good size but bumpy.<br />Past Zuma, big and closed out.<br />And past Leo Carrillo to County Line,<br />for a coffee at Neptune’s Net.<br /><br />County Line had size.<br />but who wants to surf powerless waves<br />with a hundred human buoys in the water?<br /><br />SUPERTUBES???????<br />…the right swell,<br />the right tide<br />he was SURE it was on…<br />but it was almost flat.<br /><br />Today the on-shores <br />would probably arrive early<br />(no time for Rincon or Oxnard).<br />He slowed back southward <br />checking out every little cove,<br />beach and rock pile he knew of.<br />There was definitely a lot of swell,<br />missing some stretches, hitting others,<br />but too north for most of it.<br /><br />The gas gauge on the Stonemobile <br />was broken, but he was confident <br />he had at least enough fuel to <br />make it back to Santa Monica.<br />But somewhere south of Solstice Canyon<br />as he flipped a cassette over<br />(Hammered, by Motorhead)<br />the engine died.<br />He didn’t stress,<br />just coasted it out<br />and pulled over next to <br />a makeshift wooden wall<br />in front of a construction site.<br />It was the only opening<br />in a strip of about forty stilted homes.<br />Their entrances street level<br />on Pacific Coast highway<br />with no gaps for beach access,<br />while the main volume of the structures<br />extended over the beach and water <br />(about fifteen feet below)<br />on a series of wooden and cement pilings.<br /><br />He sat in the car,<br />music still blaring,<br />but in the brief silence between tracks<br />he heard the powerful SNAP ! of a wave.<br /><br />What the HELL ?!<br />He scaled over the wooden wall for a look.<br />A short climb put him at water level<br />at the top of a small semi-point.<br />A sight that left him in momentary disbelief.<br /><br />Less than a hundred feet <br />in front of the homes,<br />powerful rights were detonating<br />over a shallow flat reef.<br />Spinning almost in place <br />for a couple of seconds,<br />they momentarily backed off<br />in a deep spot<br />before racing sideways<br />for another five or six houses.<br /><br />Up the building frame,<br />over the wall<br />and back to the Chevy.<br />The truck was stealth.<br />Both surfers and non-surfers<br />had no idea it was a surfer’s car.<br />It looked more like an immigrant<br />gardener’s vehicle.<br /><br />No towel, he bare-balled it<br />on the house side of the car <br />to get into his wetsuit.<br />I’m going to call the police !<br />a woman yelled down <br />out of a second-story window.<br />SO AM I ! he laughed <br />scrambling over the wall.<br /><br />After a short slalom course<br />down thru the beams<br />and around some jagged boulders,<br />he was soon muscling his way <br />into the last wave of an overhead set.<br />Barely making the drop,<br />He recovered into <br />a relaxed tube stance<br />and in wonderment ,<br />watched the antiseptically blue funnel<br />pass him by,<br />SLAM!!<br />Like a doctor slapping <br />a newborn’s butt<br />to get it to start breathing,<br />the Pacific-pounding<br />breathed life back <br />into Brick’s soul.<br />He screamed through<br />the saltwater placenta <br />with prehistoric adrenalin.<br /><br />When he surfaced,<br />there were no waves<br />behind it waiting to punish him.<br />Just glassy, kelpy silence.<br />Looking shoreward,<br />he saw the underbellies <br />of the homes<br />(the structures <br />did not seem secure).<br />Then up to the large deck-patios<br />extending out in front of each of them.<br />They were all vacant except for one,<br />where a large-breasted, <br />red-haired woman<br />sat in front of an easel<br />painting the horizon.<br /><br />Soon more waves arrived,<br />This day seemingly a gift of the gods<br />designated specifically for him<br />and him only.<br /><br /><br />But after an hour of solo euphoria,<br />four short-boarders separately<br />paddled north toward the lineup <br />(thank god they were short-boarders).<br />He wondered if there’d be vibes.<br />Whatever the place was called,<br />with its tiny take-off slot,<br />It was not intended <br />for mass consumption.<br /><br />A set stacked.<br />Brick snagged the first one,<br />Backdooring the section on takeoff .<br />Momentarily covered up,<br />the lip released him<br />onto a steep carveable shoulder.<br />He heard distant hoots<br />as he raced it all the way to the rocks.<br /><br />Returning to the peak,<br />He saw each of the new riders<br />snatching up the remaining set waves.<br />Three regulars and a goofy.<br />All decent surfers,<br />but not pros.<br />And judging from the brand names<br />of boards they rode,<br />none of them from the Malibu area.<br />He was glad they were outsiders.<br />And they were relieved <br />that Brick (who looked mean)<br />was amicable.<br /><br />With stoke level <br />running feverishly high,<br />the five strangers<br />took turns on the bigger set waves.<br /><br />Considering the <br />actual abilities involved,<br />performance levels <br />were peaking<br />(with the tube success ratios<br />at least 50/50).<br /><br /><br />Does this place have a name? <br />asked the kid from SB <br />riding the Matt Moore board.<br /><br /><br /><br />Brick, pensive for a moment<br />trying to make up one<br />(the kid, thinking he <br />was reluctant to tell him).<br /><br />Brick looked toward the vertical<br />under-supports of the homes.<br />It’s called, STILTS, he said.<br />….and that section that always<br /> tries to pinch you at the end<br />…that’s ENVELOPES.<br /><br />Although none of them <br />had ever met before, <br />the five surfers <br />began to converse <br />between sets,<br />mostly about global travels.<br /><br />Having never left North America,<br />Brick could only listen.<br />But it was hard <br />for the others to deny<br />that this was one of <br />the best days<br />of isolated perfection <br />any of them <br />had EVER experienced ANYWHERE.<br />It was understood that this <br />was an extremely rare day,<br />but none of them could believe <br />that makeable<br />barrels of this caliber <br />could possibly exist<br />within thirty minutes of Santa Monica.<br />No cameras. <br />No videos. <br />No sponsored riders.<br />The fact remained, however,<br />that as good as it was,<br />size-wise it was just a sideshow <br />to what breaks in <br />Palos Verdes, Ventura and beyond <br />were experiencing at that exact moment.<br />But nobody here was complaining.<br /><br />Six-hour session,<br />the tide now bone-dry.<br />A few yards of sand had appeared<br />directly in front of the houses.<br />Exausted, Brick rock-hopped<br />out of the water and onto the beach.<br /><br />Go Home, <br />it wasn’t shouted <br />but it was definitely audible<br />…but from where?<br /><br />He surveyed the homes <br />and decks from below.<br />The woman with the big boobs<br />still worked on her scenic.<br />And now, on another terrace,<br />an elderly couple<br />was being served breakfast<br />by a stocky Latina maid.<br />AND <br />two twenty-five year old trust-funders<br />still in their tennis clothes<br />fresh off the court,<br />sat on a wooden deck<br />(cluttered to capacity<br />with several surfboards,<br />windsurf boards, <br />a Zodiac and a jet-ski.<br />They had their backs <br />turned toward him,<br />but he could see them smirking<br />from the side and could hear <br />the faint whimper<br />of their cowardly giggles.<br />This time the bitches coordinated<br />their effort in unison, <br />GO HOME ! ! !<br />They yelled with both<br />hands mega-phoned <br />over their mouths<br />(still lacking the courage<br />to face the accused).<br /><br />The euphoria of the day’s<br />gelatin-smooth barrels<br />and camaraderie shared<br />with four low-key riders faded.<br />Replaced with annoyance,<br />anger and distrust.<br />And a remainder <br />of who and what<br />he now was,<br />an inlander.<br /><br />He looked back to the punks,<br />but they still wouldn’t make eye-contact.<br />What kind of worms play tennis<br />when the secret spot <br />in front of their own balcony<br />is disemboweling itself <br />as NEVER before?<br /><br />Brick made mental notes<br />(the house wouldn’t look <br />exactly the same<br />from the street side).<br />Wooden. Gray with white trim.<br />Five doors over <br />from the construction site.<br /><br />Up the beams <br />through the work-in-progress<br />and over the wall.<br />He easily identified the house <br />on the PCH side.<br /><br />In front of its <br />white-washed garage door<br />was a brand new red <br />convertible SAAB<br />with chrome gansta rims,<br />white leather seats<br />(two Baboblat tennis rackets<br />rested on the passenger side cushion)<br />and a gold license-plate frame<br />that read,<br />PEPPERDINE ALUMNI<br />with two bumper stickers<br />on either side of the plate:<br />MY OTHER CAR IS A SURFBOARD<br />And , BELL AIR BAY CLUB.<br /><br />Brick found an empty,<br />one-gallon plastic milk jug<br />in the garbage and unrolled the short<br />hose lying next to the garage door.<br />He opened the Saab’s gas cap hatch,<br />No lock.<br />He shoved one end <br />of the hose into the tank<br />and started inhaling on the other,<br />(almost instantly getting a mouthful<br />of 91 Octane Premium Unleaded).<br />He snapped his thumb over the hole<br />to maintain vacuum,<br />then released it into the jug.<br />With the optimum pressure<br />of a full tank,<br />the jug filled in seconds.<br />Thumb back on the opening,<br />he hesitated a minute…<br />…momentarily entertaining <br />fantastical thoughts<br />of dousing the car in fuel<br />and torching it.<br /><br />Naaahhh…not his style.<br />He wasn’t about to<br />let those weasels <br />get the best of him.<br /><br /><br />GO BACK TO POMONA !<br />Again circled his cerebrum<br />like a distant ghost.<br /><br />Karmic repercussions<br />of his segregational <br />suburban upbringing.<br />He couldn’t believe<br />this is what <br />he had come from.<br /><br />Although this last year<br />had been good to him<br />and he could probably afford <br />to move back to the coast.<br />Brick remembered what had been<br />holding him back.<br /><br />His past.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />OXYGEN FALLS<br /><br />I'd been here fourteen days,<br />ever since they'd<br />brought him home<br />from the hospital.<br />And for fourteen days in a row<br />Zeus, Athena and I had walked;<br />across the cotton field,<br />through the lemon orchard,<br />into The Reservation<br />and along the bank of the canal<br />until we reached<br />the base of Oxygen Falls.<br />The air here was thick with humidity,<br />the roar of the water threatening.<br />Haunting and intriguing at the same time.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Three years ago,<br />he'd been transferred here<br />from his job at a Los Angeles<br />aerospace corporation<br />to their production division<br />in a rural area outside of Phoenix.<br />Unfortunately, my trip wasn't<br />a family social visit,<br />my Pops was sick.<br /><br />Terminal they'd called it,<br />I called it unfair.<br /><br /> KEEP OUT !<br />SUBMERGED OBSTRUCTIONS!<br />EXTREME DANGER!<br /><br />These faded red letters,<br />on a now rusted-out piece<br />of white sheet metal,<br />had been a never ending subject<br />of controversy and speculation<br />between Niles, Joe and I<br />during every holiday<br />we'd spent together<br />since Pops and April<br />had moved here.<br /><br />The sign was posted<br />on the first of two parallel,<br />barbed-wire fences<br />guarding potential victims<br />from the hazards<br />of the falls behind the them.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Oxygen Falls in actuality<br />was a hundred-foot high <br />aerator slope<br />just downstream<br />from the Red Mountain Dam<br />on the Saguaro Indian Reservation.<br /><br /> After first corralling<br />a section of the Salt River<br />in form of a small lake,<br />back out through its spillways<br />and down a descending<br />eighth-of-a-mile long<br />boxy, narrowing concrete waterway.<br />This compressed the river water volume<br />from an area of about 40-yards wide<br />into an end width of just twenty-five feet,<br />quadrupling its velocity.<br /><br />The water then rocketed<br />out of its square cement chute<br />and down the eight-story,<br />sixty-degree slope<br />into a churning, chaotic maelstrom<br />at the bottom.<br />This process whipped the water<br />abundantly full of oxygen molecules,<br />(essential for retarding algae growth<br />and increasing crop harvests).<br /><br /> <br /><br />Immediately after this frothy,<br />turbulent area,<br />the water abruptly tranquilized...<br />quieting down<br />into a deeper,<br />much wider body of water<br />known as Lower River,<br />which eventually dissected<br />itself into several smaller,<br />slow-flowing canals and ditches,<br />(providing the <br />agricultural water supply<br />of eastern Phoenix).<br />_________________________________<br /><br /> For fourteen mornings in a row,<br />I'd stood here with my two friends<br />and reread the words:<br /><br />KEEP OUT !<br />SUBMERGED OBSTRUCTIONS !<br />EXTREME DANGER ! ,<br /><br />wondering what exactly it meant.<br /><br /> <br />An old Indian citrus-farmer,<br /><br />whose land bordered the canal,<br />had once told my brothers and I<br />that the submerged obstructions<br />were in reference to underwater rake-spikes;<br />sharp, metal, vertical bars<br />mounted underneath the white water<br />at the base of the falls<br />that prevented logs<br />and other larger debris<br />that had managed to make its way<br />through the dam<br />and down the aerator slope<br />from continuing any further downstream<br />(potentially clogging up<br />the subsequent farming canals<br />and ditches).<br /><br />BULLFUCKINGSHIT !!!!!!!!,<br />that old Red doesn't know shit,<br />proclaimed my stepbrother Joe,<br />an ex-marine,<br />my elder of two years.<br /><br /> No....I think he may be right,<br />protested Niles,<br />my other brother,<br />also two years older<br />and the brainiest of us three,<br />...I think I read something<br />...about something like that ..somewhere.<br /><br /> For the moment<br />I'd remained undecided on the subject,<br />but had later asked Pops about it.<br />He'd said that the underwater rakes<br />did exist on some dams and aerators,<br />but on which ones was impossible to tell,<br />unless the spillways were closed<br />and the water level low enough<br />to expose them.<br />But here at Oxygen Falls,<br />the water was kept flowing year round,<br />quenching the thirst<br />of the area's perpetually arid farmlands.<br /><br />What do you guys think ? <br />I asked Zeus and Athena.<br /><br /> WWWWWOOOOOOFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!,<br />howled Zeus.<br /><br /> AAAARRRRRRRPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, <br />echoed Athena in feminine equivalent.<br /> <br /><br />Zeus and Athena,<br />brother and sister Rhodesian Ridgebacks<br />agreed on everything.<br />I sometimes wondered<br />if they shared the same brain.<br /><br /> We walked back to the house<br />where April had been waiting for us.<br />She had some errands to do in town<br />and Pops couldn't be left alone<br />in his condition.<br /><br /> I'll see you in a couple of hours,ok ? <br />my stepmother said.<br /><br /> Ok...See you later, I said.<br /><br />I pulled out an old atlas<br />from the living room bookshelf<br />and went up to Pop's room.<br />He was asleep so I began reading.<br /><br />Are you to take the drop? <br />asked an unexpected voice.<br />It was my dad sleep talking.<br /><br /> What?! I asked.<br /><br /> Are you ready to take the drop?, <br />he repeated.<br /><br /> I wasn't exactly sure what he meant,<br />but even though he was unconscious<br />somehow knew that the question<br />had been directed at me.<br /><br />Um...yeah...I guess so...what about you?<br /><br /> Yes, he whispered with a slight smile<br />as he drifted into a deeper sleep...<br />...a sleep he was never woke from.<br /><br /> He died in a peaceful way<br />which I suppose is better<br />than getting run over by a UPS truck<br />or catching a stray bullet<br />in a neighborhood drive-by,<br />but when it's your Pops,<br />shit like that is of little consolation.<br /><br /> <br /><br />It was about two a.m.<br />when the last of the neighbors,<br />the mortician with dad's body<br />and the rest of the weepers and mourners<br />(most of whom I'd never even met)<br />left.<br />I walked outside,<br />got into the family mini-van<br />and flew out onto the Beeline Highway.<br />My speed rarely dropping below ninety,<br />as I talked incessantly<br />to a silent, invisible father<br />riding in the passenger seat.<br /><br />The towns sped by;<br />Fountain Hills, Apache Junction,<br />Hobokam, Superstition.<br />In and out of the Tonto Forest,<br />through Sunflower<br />and out past twenty or so<br />smaller settlements....<br />until there was nothing<br />but cactus and stars.<br /><br />I stopped the van, got out,<br />laid on my back<br />across the yellow checkered dividing line<br />and looked directly up.<br />The biggest shooting star<br />I'd ever seen<br />radiated by overhead,<br />its trail glowing for a full ten-seconds.<br /><br /> It was one of those infrequent,<br />self-pitying moments<br />when I will question the purpose<br />of all existence;<br />The Earth, The Stars,<br />Love, Hate, Life, Death....<br />....it all seems like such<br />a cruel, heartless joke sometimes.<br /><br /><br />Exhausted and fatigued,<br />I arrived home midmorning.<br />Niles and Joe<br />had already arrived in Arizona<br />and were giving me shit<br />for staying out all night.<br />April's been worried<br /> out of her fucking mind !!!,<br /><br />I apologized,<br />instantly morphing<br />the vibe more positively.<br /><br /> Although we all lived<br />within an hour's drive of each other<br />in California,<br />we rarely hang out.<br />But that night we drank beers,<br />talked about Pops, the old days<br />back in the South Bay<br />and about all the trouble<br />we'd gotten ourselves into.<br />I was surprised to learn<br />for the first time that<br />(on different occasions)<br />Niles and Joe had both been arrested. <br />How I'd never found out<br />remains a mystery.<br />And my dad, not being one to rat,<br />had never mentioned anything about it<br />or the healthy sums of cash<br />he'd shelled out for their bail bonds.<br /><br /> However, I wasn't being as open<br />with my older brothers<br />as they were being with me.<br />And hoped Pops had been<br />as equally discreet<br />about my own personal fuck ups<br />and had never told them<br />of my little run in<br />with a particular young vixen from Lomita.<br />An incident far more regrettable<br />and less heroic than getting your ass thrown<br />in the slammer for a few hours.<br />__________________________________________<br /><br />If it is at all possible for a funeral<br />to be a good thing, Pops' was.<br />The youngish priest, Father Paul,<br />had been a good friend<br />of my dad and April<br />and spoke to us with his eulogy, not at us.<br /><br />His message was very personal,<br />almost completely avoiding<br />any corny, generic post-death sermonology.<br />He even played<br />a from-the-heart Bob Dylanish song<br />on the acoustic<br />which he'd written<br />when his own father had died.<br /><br />Part of which was;<br />He was more than just a father,<br />a teacher, my best friend.<br />he showed me things<br />not known to kings<br />like how to fish<br />and make a wish<br />beside the Magic Sea...<br />...I miss him the old man<br /><br /> Toward the end of the service,<br />Father Paul had said something that stuck<br />into my head like a nail.<br />He'd spoken directly to Niles, Joe and I.<br /><br />Your father,<br />being the man that he was,<br />would want you to go on<br />with your lives<br />...living them to the fullest.<br />On the ride back to Dad and April's crib,<br />that last part kept playing<br />and replaying in my head...<br />...living them to the fullest.<br /><br /> For me, in contrast to the urban hell<br />I'd inflicted upon myself four years before<br />(moving from the beach into Hollywood),<br />living life to the fullest<br />still meant getting in the ocean regularly,<br />something I'd been less<br />than successfully accomplishing lately.<br /><br />Of my last several attempts;<br />On one, I'd borrowed<br />and broken-in-half<br />a friend's favorite board.<br /><br />On another,<br />I contracted a hideous<br />bacteria-caused<br />ear infection.<br /><br />And on my last try.........<br />at six a.m. speeding west<br />down the Santa Monica Freeway<br />(on my to surf what I later heard<br />was p e r f e c t five-foot Topanga),<br />I rear-ended a station-wagon<br />full of Guatemalan cleaning women<br />on the way to the Beverly Hills mansions<br />they were to immaculate.<br /><br />Coincidence maybe,<br />regardless, I felt that<br />the almighty Poseidon<br />had put some kind<br />of restraining order<br />on my surfing rights.<br />I decided to lay low for a while<br />and had been surviving<br />strictly on a surf-mag fix.<br />_____________________________________<br /><br />When we got back to the house<br />after the funeral,<br />I began frantically searching....<br />the hall closet,<br />then the garage,<br />then the tool shed.<br />And finally found IT<br />behind the Jacuzzi pump<br />next to the pool.<br />I unfolded the yellow, moldy plastic.<br />A round, inflatable swimming pool raft<br />about four-feet in diameter<br />resembling a giant hole less donut<br />complete with a circle<br />of bright pink nylon rope<br />secured around the top of it<br />(to use as leverage<br />in case you encountered<br />any dangerous oceanic conditions<br />in your chlorinated utopia).<br /><br /> Joe (stoned as usual) came outside.<br />And after several minutes<br />of amusedly watching me<br />trying to inflate the damn thing<br />with my own breath, offered...<br /><br /> I think there's a compressor<br /> in the garage, bro.<br /><br />And soon I was running,<br />(holding the inflated raft<br />clumsily on top of my head)......<br />across the cotton field,<br />through the lemon orchard,<br />into The Reservation,<br />along the bank of the canal.<br />AND up the the long hill<br />until I was in front<br />of the double security fences<br />at the upper backside<br />of monstrous cement structure.<br /><br />I frisbeed the raft over the first fence,<br />climbed it,<br />then tossed it gently over the second,<br />(this time barely clearing<br />above the sharp barbs).<br /><br />And seconds later,<br />I was standing above the rushing,<br />funneling channel of water<br />leading to the drop.<br /><br /> I prepared to make my jump,<br /> then hesitated.<br /><br />I set the raft down,<br />walked along the ridge of the canal<br />to the top of the falls<br />and took a long, last look<br />down to the the bubbling cauldron<br />of frothy water at the base....<br />only imagining what actually lay underneath.<br /><br />In the far distance,<br />I saw Niles and Joe charging<br />up the river bank- yelling as they ran,<br />both armed with about <br />a mile of safety rope.<br /><br />As they got closer,<br />I realized Niles was shouting something<br />about the rake-spikes<br />and the possibility of drowning<br />in the current.<br /><br />YOU COULD DIE, ASSHOLE !!!!!!!!!!!,<br />He shouted, barely audible <br />above the rumble of water.<br /><br /> THAT'S OK.!!!, I yelled back ,<br />I DON'T GIVE A FUCK !!!<br /><br /> Frenzied, I ran back to the raft.<br />And grabbing it,<br />hurled myself the ten feet<br />off of the vertical embankment<br />and into the racing<br />thirty mile-an-hour current below.<br /><br />Landing on the raft,<br />but losing hold of the rope<br />that circumferenced it,<br />I was violently swept downstream<br />spinning like a top.<br /><br />Dizzy and panicked,<br />I had only one conscious thought,<br />going STRAIGHT down<br />as I went over the top…..<br />or I'd surely be discovering truth<br />about the rake-spikes headfirst.<br /><br /> At the last second,<br />I somehow managed to get it together.<br />Getting hold of the rope,<br />I was able to stop the spinning<br />and was able to lift up the nose <br />and went straight over.......<br /><br /> SHHHHHHHHITTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />I shrieked, flying down<br />what would be comparable<br />to dropping in at<br />100-foot Waimea Bay<br />(on a giant vinyl apple-fritter).<br /><br /> While my stomach was making<br />an ambitious attempt of escaping<br />up through my throat……<br /><br />FFFFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />my velocity was multiplying all the way down…..<br />SHHHHHIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />Below me somewhere through the spray,<br />I caught a millisecond glimpse<br />of Niles and Joe near the base<br />looking like cowboys<br />preparing to rope cattle.<br /><br /> By the end of the drop,<br />I had accelerated to the point<br />that the raft was not<br />even really connecting<br />to the water's surface.<br /><br />With the point of impact <br />rapidly approaching,<br />I strained to make a last effort<br />to get the front of the raft up<br />as high as possible and.....<br />SWWOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />Like a ski jump<br />I blasted right up and over the top<br />of the bubbling aquatic chaos,<br />air born for at least fifteen feet<br />(safely above the submerged spikes)<br />and then sent skipping another 50 feet<br />like a thin stone on a still puddle<br />into the calms of the canal.<br /><br /> Several long seconds later,<br />my heat began beating again,<br />my emotion confusingly somewhere<br />between laughing and crying.<br /><br />I ignored the rope<br />Niles and Joe<br />eventually tossed my direction<br />and the drone of falling water<br />began dissipating behind me.<br /><br /> I spent the next several hours<br />slowly drifting westward<br />underneath the cobalt Arizona sky;<br />alongside of citrus farms,<br />and waving Indian children .<br />And by cookie-cutter,<br />suburban track-home neighborhoods,<br />thinking about......<br /><br />…what life would be like without Pops.<br /><br />___________________________________________<br /><br /> Several months later,<br />I went to visit April, Zeus and Athena.<br />When I drove over the tiny canal bridge,<br />signifying the neighborhood's entrance,<br />I couldn't see ANY water<br />flowing down the dirt trenches<br />into the citrus groves.<br /><br />I immediately got the dogs<br />and headed up toward<br />the cotton field trail<br />leading to the river.<br /><br />For the first time<br />since I'd been coming here<br />Oxygen Falls was under repair,<br />the spillways shut, the river bed dry.<br /><br /> There were no rake-spikes.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />CARCAVELOS BROWNS<br /><br />I’m deaf now. <br />Completely deaf.<br />Except for the sounds <br />of my jaws chomping <br />when I eat and the sound <br />of my bones creaking <br />when I walk.<br />And sometimes I hear <br />a disturbing jingle-jangle<br />of something metallic.<br />I’m not sure what…<br />the coins in my pocket ?<br />or the BB’s in my brain?<br /><br />Earlier today,<br />I was almost hit by a car.<br />Same as yesterday.<br />And the day before.<br />I’ve changed my mind <br />about liking silent movies.<br />I hate them now.<br /><br />I’d once asked a deaf woman,<br />what it was like <br />to live in a silent movie <br />her whole life.<br />She said she liked it, <br />you didn’t have to <br />listen to people’s bullshit.<br />I realized now, that I really enjoyed <br />listening to people’s bullshit.<br /><br />My Shangri-la has betrayed me.<br />My Utopia is brown not green.<br />My first impression of paradise<br />was an illusion created by a photographer,<br />a journalist and a world famous surfer.<br />Green Beach is the Portuguese Pipeline !<br />the article had shouted at me <br />with text and photos.<br /><br />That was just twelve years ago,<br />a first and lasting image;<br />big, perfect super-green tubes.<br />Those solitary impressions <br />marinating around in my brain all this time,<br />had recently led me to make one of the most <br />drastic changes in my entire life.<br />THE MOVE.<br />The trans-Atlantic move to a town near<br />those picture-perfect green barrels.<br /><br />But when I finally arrived <br />to my dream beach,<br />I made a sickening discovery.<br />Although the waves were <br />just as big, perfect and hollow<br />as the article had bragged, <br />the water was dark brown<br />(not bright green) <br />and it smelled like shit.<br />Because it was shit-<br />mostly raw sewage,<br />but also; <br />mud, oil, detergents, plastics, etc…<br />all whipped together <br />by the frequent swells <br />into a kind of bacteria cocktail.<br />I vowed never to surf there. <br />Never. <br />Never to even look at the place.<br /><br />Instead, I began surfing <br />the less dramatic and less polluted breaks <br />north of Carcavelos along the Estoril coast. <br />But the waves along this stretch <br />of reefs and coves were generally <br />inconsistent and powerless. <br />In the meantime,<br />the Carcavelos pounders <br />pounded on and on……<br />day after day,<br />moon after moon.<br /><br />Although I was often tempted,<br />I never ventured there again<br />even for a look.<br />But I knew deep inside <br />that the powerful tunnels <br />would eventually<br />lure me to test my abilities.<br /><br />Like most riders throughout history, <br />in my own mind, <br />I was the best surfer of ALL eternity.<br />But how many winters <br />of strength and speed did I have left ?<br />How many winters <br />of real waves did I have left?<br />Ten or fifteen at the most.<br /><br />No doubt I’d probably <br />be surfing until the day I died,<br />but on fat, slow boards<br />on small, slow waves.<br />A grandpa with nothing but memories<br />and an occasional Sunday afternoon surf<br />on a board big and thick enough<br />to support a floating hotdog stand.<br /><br />…And the young punks <br />(never imagining that they themselves<br />will someday will be older <br />than they are <br />at that moment in time)<br />will laugh and point<br />and tell their girlfriends what a kook I am.<br />Nobody will be there to defend me.<br />Nobody will be there <br />to tell the young punks about the day….<br /><br />A sturdy sixteen year old kid nick-named Granite<br />was the only person ballsy enough<br />to surf Resort Point during very biggest swell<br />California’s famous winter of ’83<br />(The El Nino year)….<br /><br />….Or about another day <br />later in the same winter, <br />the same kid continued surfing <br />his home break <br />even after he’d spotted<br />the dorsal of a Great White.<br />But the waves were good,<br />he had later told the lifeguard<br />(who’d also spotted the rare visiting shark)<br />and had pleaded his return to the beach<br />for more than an hour through his megaphone.<br /><br />No…the young punks <br />wouldn’t know about any of that…<br /><br />…they also wouldn’t know <br />about the day years later<br />when Granite had encountered the legendary, <br />Kalani Jones<br />in a Kawaii convenience store.<br /><br />And had later been invited <br />to surf a private reef break,<br />a sacred Hawaiian secret <br />with one of the Kahunas himself.<br />Just two soul kings,<br />a half a mile from shore<br />(before the crowded days of jets skis).<br />Nobody to impress <br />but themselves and the gods.<br /><br />No, the young punks <br />wouldn’t know about any of that…<br />not any of it.<br /><br />One morning, I woke up <br />hours earlier than normal<br />with an itch,<br />a kind of nervous tingling<br />in my bones. <br />The rain had stopped,<br />the sun was shining, <br />the clothes pins <br />on the laundry line<br />outside of my window<br />were slapping the panes <br />(this only occurred during an east wind).<br />I knew what it all meant,<br />especially the nervousness <br />inside my bones.<br />It meant WAVES.<br /><br />I don’t know why.<br />I don’t know how<br />(With no surf reports <br />in the area existing <br />at that time to <br />aid my delusion..).<br />But with almost<br />one hundred-percent accuracy,<br />as if spiritually linked <br />with the almighty Neptune,<br />this strange fearful confusion <br />I sometimes felt <br />meant that the day, THIS day,<br />would be one of the few <br />in three-hundred and sixty-five<br />that the ocean would rebel;<br />sink ships, destroy houses, claim lives.<br /><br />Although I was about to head <br />straight to the station<br />to catch a twenty-five minute express train<br />out to the coast,<br />I took a cold shower<br />to regain consciousness,<br />brushed my teeth.<br />and put a new leash on Olga.<br />She was beautiful,<br />a thin, plain-white 7’10” thruster pin<br />shaped by Almir Salazar.<br />A bigger, sleek board <br />for bigger, hollow waves.<br />Although it was nearly six months old<br />I’d only ridden it a couple of times before<br />(basically just to try it out),<br />it still looked and smelled new.<br />The fiber-glass still crack free and un-dented.<br /><br />The train raced<br />alongside of the Rio Tejo,<br />out toward sea<br />and before we had <br />even reached the estuary<br />I could already see <br />huge rows of whitewater<br />foaming up the mouth of the river.<br />The fort-island <br />was being bombarded<br />as was the super-tanker<br />that was attempting to maneuver itself<br />into the channel and up river.<br /><br />East wind.<br />Sunshine.<br />Deep cobalt-blue sky.<br />Under other circumstances<br />It could’ve been an ideal day <br />for a picnic.<br /><br />I got off the train at Carcavelos station,<br />bought a coffee and a chocolate milk<br />and walked a quarter of a mile<br />through a still-sleeping suburban neighborhood<br />until I reached the beach.<br /><br />Big walls of dark brown water<br />marched methodically toward shore.<br />And one after another<br />they exploded on the shallow<br />outside sandbar.<br />The east wind whistled,<br />suspending their lips mid-air<br />forming completely round,<br />mud-colored tunnels,<br />often blasting clouds of mist <br />out their side doors.<br />Water color aside ,<br />It was an incredible sight.<br />Horrifying, <br />but absolutely perfect.<br /><br />Took my time <br />getting into the water;<br />studied breaking patterns <br />and currents,<br />inched my wetsuit on,<br />combed my wax to perfection,<br />and finally waded waist-deep<br />into the churning browness.<br />I began paddling.<br /><br /><br />It smelled d i s g u s t i n g.<br />Pollution so severe that<br />the water-density itself was different.<br />Less like water, more like soup.<br />Cream of Hepatitis soup.<br /><br />Soon I was making my way through<br />the foaming rows of muck,<br />(leftovers of waves that had already <br />expended themselves on the outside bank).<br />But the bubbles of foam weren’t <br />of the everyday pea and cherry-sized variety, <br />some were size of grapefruits<br />and didn’t immediately pop <br />after a wave had passed,<br />possessing all the unique durabilities <br />that result from the random mixing <br />of piss, shit, gasoline,<br />oil, detergents, river mud <br />AND diluted blood <br />from a neighborhood slaughterhouse <br />that frequently took advantage <br />of the rainy season <br />to dispose of by-product waste <br />directly into the sewer system.<br /><br />It took me forty-five minutes <br />just to paddle beyond<br />the endless walls of foam<br />and into the impact zone<br />where waves twelve and even fifteen feet<br />on the face where mercilessly slamming <br />into the sandbar, just<br />five feet below the surface.<br /><br />I felt nauseated,<br />not only from the pollution,<br />but from motion sickness.<br />The swells were rising and falling,<br />lifting and dropping me<br />every several seconds.<br />But none of the waves <br />seemed approachable,<br />out-of -control,<br />with no obvious take-off spots.<br /><br />I’d been paddling and bobbing <br />around out there<br />about an hour and a half <br />before IT finally came.<br />It appeared slower than the others <br />because it was much larger.<br />Its rise was a steady one, not as jumpy.<br /><br />By luck, I was in perfect position.<br />I simply turned around, paddled twice<br />and slid in.<br />But suddenly <br />like a sledge hammer cracking a skull,<br />the wave hit the shallowest part of the sandbar,<br />completely concaving from lip to trough<br />And there I was,<br />in position for the biggest, best,<br />shit-brown tube ride of my entire life.<br />Crouching into an iron-legged hell-stance,<br />it PITCHED…swallowing me whole <br />like an aspirin tablet.<br />Dark in there,<br />no natural light<br />coming through the back of the lip,<br />just smelly opaqueness.<br /><br />I aimed at the only route of exit,<br />the small golden light<br />at the end of the Hershey Highway.<br />But as it grew closer,<br />thousands of big, toxic bubbles<br />came floating up the wave’s face and into my path,<br />and for a millisecond <br />my fins lost traction.<br />Recovered my balance,<br />but the slide had cost valuable distance <br />and I was now too deep<br />to leave the shit tunnel graciously <br />No choice but to go down with the ship.<br /><br />The glimmer of illumination <br />at the end of the colon<br />flickered, then faded completely.<br />And in pitch-blackness, <br />I was hurdled directly<br />into the calderon <br />just to get sucked over with the lip<br />and then obliterated in the impact zone.<br />The full weight of the wave <br />compacting directly onto on me. <br />Eyes closed, I was tossed around and around and around,<br />upside down in the Devil’s soup bowl<br />repetitively getting bounced <br />off the hard-packed sand bank.<br /><br />Finally I was released from the force,<br />But where was I ?<br />Somewhere suspended in the sludge.<br />Like an idiot, I opened my eyes.<br />Burning blackness.<br />Dizzy and panicked, I swam and swam<br />and swam into nothingness…<br />finally switched course forty-five degrees, <br />and banged my head on the bottom<br />(I’d been swimming horizontally).<br /><br />Pushing off with my legs,<br />I instantly surfaced thru<br />an eighteen-inch thick layer <br />of freshly blended<br />sewage-smoothie bubbles.<br />Gasping for a solid breath of air<br />I chocked on one and immediately vomited.<br /><br />Defeated, and exhausted,<br />I swam for shore.<br />Olga was long gone,<br />already waiting for me <br />on the beach like a loyal dog <br />amongst a pile<br />of river garbage and tree branches.<br />But, except for the broken leash, <br />no damage done.<br /><br />I walked up the beach and across the highway<br />to one of those quiet suburban houses,<br />turned on a garden hose<br />and rinsed off the shit and slime.<br />Changed back into my street clothes,<br />walked back to the station<br />and caught the train back to Lisbon,<br />got off at the last stop<br />and walked up the hill<br />toward Bairro Alto;<br />past bakeries, flower shops, shoe-shiners,<br />sailors, winos, dusty old hookers, drug dealers,<br />past the post office at Praca de Camoes.<br />Past the Brazilian Consulate,<br />up Rua da Atalaia and into my front door.<br /><br />Two days later my ears began to hurt.<br />Two days after that I was deaf.<br />Stone deaf.<br />The star of my own silent movie.<br />_________________________________________<br />Ps:<br />It was three-months<br />and two surgeries later when <br />(less than half of) <br />my hearing was finally restored.<br />An already advanced <br />case of Exostosis combined<br />with severe double ear infections, <br />left one of my eardrums <br />rotten beyond repair,<br />described by my surgeon, <br />as fragile as a burnt curtain.<br />I eventually re-operated with one of the best<br />specialists in the US…and even he couldn’t<br />do much for me.<br /><br />This was 1993, <br />and only two years later, <br />with newly received funds <br />from the European Union<br />the municipality of Caiscais County <br />did a MAJOR upgrade<br />on the sewer system <br />on this part of the coast. <br />It ain’t perfect, <br />but it’s a massive improvement.<br />The days of this kind of pollution <br />are long gone ..hopefully for good.<br /><br />But the young punks <br />won’t know about any of this.<br />They’ll think Carcavelos <br />was always just the way it is now.<br />And on warm winter Sundays…<br />(never imagining that <br />they’ll ever grow a day older<br />than they are at that moment) …<br />…they’ll laugh <br />and tell their girlfriends <br />to check out<br />the kook with <br />the big thick board and<br />the waterproof hearing aid.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />ZÉ DOS CÃES (Jose of the Dogs)<br /><br /><br />There were five people <br />sardined into the cab <br />of Duda’s pick up truck,<br />the back stuffed to the limit <br />with all sorts of shit; <br />sleeping bags, clothes, <br />a mountain bike, six surfboards <br />and wetsuits. <br /><br />I was ecstatic just to be <br />on my way <br />out of Lisbon for a while. <br />Our destination, Sagres,<br />the southernmost corner <br />of continental Europe. <br />In the summer, a playground <br />for pink northern-Europeans <br />who flock to the Algarve<br />to take advantage of the<br />low prices and sunshine. <br />But in the winter, desolation, <br />rural beaches <br />and big, perfect waves. <br /><br />Six hours later, <br />we arrived at <br />an old stone house <br />we’d arranged to rent.<br />Our arrival in town <br />was soon spread <br />to the local surfers <br />(all six of them),<br />Who dropped by <br />to give us an account <br />of the day’s waves.<br /><br />Ze dos Caes, the leader<br />of the Algarve underground, <br />shows up with a Brick of hash<br /> the size of a man’s wallet. <br />He cuts a piece off <br />and starts mixing it up <br />with the tobacco <br />of a Gudang-Gurang <br />clove cigarette. <br />We smoke and talk for a while. <br />Ze informs us that a swell <br />just arrived<br /> and that he’d be by <br />tomorrow at a reasonable hour.<br /><br />The next morning during predawn,<br />BAM ! BAM ! BAM! <br />On the window. <br />It’s Ze screaming,<br />Come on Pappas <br />it’s twelve to fifteen feet <br />with east wind..COME ON !!!<br /><br />Nobody else even stirred <br />from their comas, <br />but after six hours <br />of attempting to sleep on <br />a ridiculously cold stone floor, <br />I needed something….<br />a coffee, a beer or some food.<br /><br />We stopped at <br />an early morning <br />fisherman’s snack bar <br />for a juice and sandwich. <br />Afterward, I go to take a piss <br />and as I’m coming <br />out of the bathroom, <br />Ze says,<br />Let’s go…I already paid for you.<br /><br />But as we’re getting into the car,<br />The owner of the snack bar <br />comes running out and says,<br />You forgot to pay AGAIN, Ze.<br /><br />Maybe later,<br />Says Ze, <br />jamming the car <br />into first gear and screeching off.<br /><br />SMACK ! BANG ! CRACK !<br />A hundred kilometers-an-hour<br />down a muddy dirt road <br />with puddles<br />you could drown in <br />and rocks the size of basketballs.<br />SMACK ! BANG ! CRASH !<br />We nail one of the them head on. <br />Ze gets out to inspect the damage. <br />The bumper and grill are Fucked,<br />mangled beyond repair. <br />He gives it a shrug.<br />Gets back in the car.<br />Throws it into reverse,<br />Does three full circles going backwards.<br />The jams it back into first.<br /><br />And we fly and bounce <br />another ten or so kilometers<br />Down a road that ain’t no road..<br />Sliding to a hundred <br />and eighty degree stop <br />about a meter and a half<br />from a two-hundred meter vertical cliff.<br /><br />We’d come upon <br />a panoramic view <br />of three surfing breaks.<br />Ze wasn’t bullshitting about the waves,<br />it was definitely <br />in the two-meter PLUS category <br />a not a soul around.<br /><br />We wasted no time <br />negotiating our way down <br />an even worse road<br />eventually leading <br />to the beach below. <br />It was well past dawn, <br />but the<br />high cliffs were still casting <br />about a kilometer into the ocean.<br /><br />Freezing, <br />we struggled into our wetsuits <br />and paddled out.<br />I was soon to discover<br />the answer to my previous night’s question.<br /><br />Can this big, clumsy, gangly, <br />goofy, hash-toting <br />Algarvian even surf?<br /><br />Ze caught the first wave <br />of the day, <br />a mean monster <br />nearly three times his height.<br />He took off <br />so dangerously close <br />to the rocks designating<br />the beginning of <br />this ridiculously long left, <br />that the bottom of the wave <br />wasn’t even water,<br />just a pile of boulders. <br />Then in a section where <br />most people would try<br />to outrun the wave <br />to the safety of the shoulder, <br />he cuts back<br />even deeper into the pit <br />and redirects himself <br />into a kitchen-sized barrel.<br />He gets absorbed by the big foam<br />Ball chasing him down the tunnel<br />Disappearing from my view entirely, <br />although I’m looking straight <br />into the tube from the channel. <br />The wave spits, <br />Ze comes flying out of the tube <br />not from the bottom <br />of the trough <br />where I was half expecting him to, <br />but up at the top of the concave<br />and is already skating <br />over the backside <br />of the huge green tube. <br />He lands it, <br />blasting through the turbulence<br />only slightly off balance. <br />To this day the most insane floaters<br />I ever witnessed (including films and video).<br /><br />At this point <br />his wave passes me by <br />and I’ve got a four meter-set <br />staring at me right in the face….<br />(and) I can already see the top <br />of wave behind it<br />Getting frothy <br />and beginning to break. <br />The only way I can avoid <br />a serious amount of <br />violent punishment <br />is by taking the first one <br />and escape out of the impact zone. <br />I whip my board around <br />(a brand new 7’2” <br />perfect for conditions like these) <br />and start paddling <br />like a motherfucker for shore.<br />The swell lifts me up <br />into the sky <br />higher and higher.<br />I already on my feet <br />looking straight down<br />the huge face <br />squinting into the offshore wind,<br />I see Ze finishing his ride, <br />the beach the cliffs. <br />But at that instant, <br />the sun (revealed by the wave <br />lifting me so high) <br />comes blazing over the edge <br />of the cliff and directly <br />into my eyes. <br />I’m completely blinded <br />and floating through the air <br />with my feet still on my board. <br />Floating down, down. <br />The second I landed <br />in the trough, <br />that mother of a lip <br />landed on my head, <br />a no-mercy pounding <br />that kept me in<br />the washing machine<br /> for fifteen-seconds or more.<br />Luckily, I was able to come up <br />for one gulp of air <br />before the second wave hit me…<br />which was powerful enough<br /> to drag me most of the way <br />to the shoreline, <br />where I was assaulted by <br />two-meter high beach-ponders.<br />Exhausted, I made it to the beach, <br />my heart about to poke <br />a hole through my wetsuit.<br /><br />On the outside, <br />Ze catches the first wave <br />of the next set. <br />Carves a deep bottom-turn , <br />drives straight up the face,<br />bashes the lip vertically, <br />landing it weightlessly <br />just in time to get swallowed <br />by another huge tube. <br />After a few seconds <br />he comes out on<br />a gravy-train speed run <br />all the way to the beach.<br /><br />He gets out.<br />Nice wave Pappas, he says mockingly.<br /><br />A couple of hours later, <br />after a second session, <br />and unwelcome change <br />in wind direction, <br />we’re flying through <br />the pastures again. <br />Climbing a small blind hill, <br />we are road blocked <br />on the opposite by <br />a herd of two-hundred <br />grazing cattle. <br />They don’t move an inch. <br />But Ze just blares the horn <br />and speeds up even faster <br />weaving a maze <br />through the black, <br />brown and white monsters <br />almost killing us.<br /><br />We clipped the horn <br />of one of the bulls, <br />leaving a new dent on <br />the already damaged right fender. <br />And continued <br />through the remainder <br />of the herd<br />Past the shepherd dogs, <br />past two stone farmhouses and <br />a hundred-and -forty-kilometers–per-hour <br />down the straight stretch <br />of slightly better road.<br />that led to <br />the Cabo St. Vincente lighthouse.<br />A small white car <br />is approaching us at <br />equally as fast, <br />but there is room <br />for passing on either side <br />and I’m sure Ze <br />has some kind of death wish. <br />Surprisingly at <br />the last possible safe moment <br />he abruptly slows it down <br />coming to a complete halt <br />and gets out to talk to the driver <br />of the other car. <br /><br />After a few exchanged words <br />and a bro-shake <br />we’re following the white car <br />back in the direction of Sagres.<br /><br />Who is that ? I asked Ze.<br />Joao Antunes, the best surfer in Portugal.<br /><br />Oh yeah, yesterday,<br /> you told me YOU were the best in Portugal.<br /><br />I meant he’s the best BESIDES me…<br />anyway, he told me that Z-Point <br />is about two meters and glassy right now.<br /><br />With an evil smile <br />plastered across his mug, <br />Ze cranks up the volume <br />on a Bad-brains cassette <br />and in about ten minutes <br />we’re at Z-Point looking <br />at some of <br />the most flawless waves <br />I’d ever seen. <br />A right semi-point <br />with Big, hollow but short, <br />green mothers <br />not far off shore- shore <br />four-meters on the face <br />with tubes seemingly big enough <br />to drive a Renault Clio through. <br />Antunes was already <br />in the water and <br />the only person out <br />and nobody was <br />on the beach yet. <br /><br />The three of us <br />surfed alone for hours.<br />Wave after wave after wave, <br />tube after tube after tube. <br />Joao surfing with radical precision. <br />Ze surfing with reckless abandoned. <br />And me just surfing for survival.<br /><br />Five dogs howled from the beach <br />as Ze took off on <br />the biggest wave of the day. <br />The wave was absolutely unmakeable; <br />an ugly, mutated, close-out.<br />But Ze , seemingly encouraged <br />by the cries of the pack of dogs, <br />hurriedly scratched his way in from the top, <br />free-falling down <br />the past-vertical face, <br />barely managing <br />to carve a big fat bottom turn <br />before getting obliterated by the lip.<br /><br />Half of his board <br />washed up on the rocks <br />and was immediately retrieved by<br />The largest of the dogs, <br />a dirty-looking German Shepherd..<br /><br />Ze had collected them over the years. <br />All strays that nobody cared about.<br />Ze was the only person who ever fed them. <br />They just sit on the beach and wait for him to come out of the water, Antunes told me.<br /><br />By the time we get back up to the cars, <br />Ze was already engaged in <br />rolling a big, fat hash joint <br />and listening to the Doors <br />with his dog friends. He says to me;<br />Hey man, You’re from Los Angeles. <br />Do you know Jim Morrison? <br />Morrison’s from Los Angeles<br /><br />He’s from New Mexico..<br />don’t you go to the movies ?...<br />…besides, he’s dead. Isn’t he?<br /><br />The next several days, <br />were repeats of the first <br />with smaller waves <br />and a few other variations. <br />Ze came by every morning before dawn <br />( I was the only person<br />he could find to get up this early <br />on frigid mornings like these.<br />Like myself, he was an extremist, <br />but in a more destructive way.<br /><br />BAM ! BAM! BAM ! <br />Ze pounded on the window <br />at six am for our morning surf.<br />But it wasn’t six, it was eleven.<br />And it wasn’t Ze, it was Antunes.<br /><br />How are the waves ? I asked.<br /><br />HUGE, he says somberly,<br />Come on…I need to show you something.<br /><br />We drove to Cabo St. Vincente.<br />Where there was a police car parked, <br />and nearby a cop and<br />several fisherman looking <br />over the cliff at what was left of <br />Ze’s dark blue, sixteen-valve <br />Volkswagen GTI <br />laying face down on the rocks.<br /><br />The swell <br />had risen enormously overnight <br />and was now nearly six meters.<br />With the rising tide, <br />the mountains of water <br />soon began smashing directly <br />into the cliff itself, <br />completely submerging the car <br />and sending plumes of spray <br />almost to the top of the cliff. <br />Absolutely nothing could be done <br />until low tide when the wreckage <br />could be safely inspected. <br /><br />The cop and the fishermen all split <br />returning back to their daily tasks.<br /><br />THAT STUPID FUCKER !!!!, <br />I screamed to Joao,<br />ALWAYS DRIVING LIKE AN IDIOT<br />AND SHOWING OFF !!!!<br /><br />You think this was an accident ?<br />he asked incrediously.<br /><br />What do you mean ??<br /><br />Look at all these tire tracks…<br />most of the old ones <br />are from Ze <br />when he driving stupid,<br />doing those <br />hundred-and-eighty degree slides<br />up to the edge of the cliff <br />he liked to do.<br />But look at these freshest tracks,<br />They go STRAIGHT of the cliff…<br /><br />..SUICIDE ??? I said, <br />I don’t know about all that… <br />I think it was more<br />of a case that he drove <br />exactly the way he surfed. <br />Never thought things through. <br />Whether or not <br />he’d make it <br />from point A to B <br />or the consequences <br />if he didn’t.<br /><br />Six hours later,<br />half of Vila of Bispo and Sagres <br />came back with the town cop <br />to see the wreckage <br />of the infamous Ze dos Caes, <br />but no car was to be seen.<br />The enormous swells <br />had washed the car <br />completely of the rocks<br />and back into <br />the abysmally deep water. <br />Here in this rural of an area, <br />no government official <br />was about to OKAY funding <br />for proper underwater equipment <br />to investigate <br />the suicide <br />of a delinquent <br />drug-addict.<br /><br />After the funeral <br />we all stuck around<br />a few days<br />holding our own private service <br />at Z-Point….Ze’s domain.<br /><br />Everybody who <br />considered Ze a friend <br />(and many people <br />who considered him a menace) <br />attended. <br />We smoked hash-joints <br />until sunset,<br />And watch Z-Point at its best, <br />as endless, unridden waves <br />peeled off the rocks <br />and seventy-five yards to the beach. <br />I’d known Ze <br />only a very short time, <br />but had felt in some way <br />he’d been like <br />a long lost brother of mine.<br /><br />I wondered where Ze’s dogs <br />were at a time like this.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />PALM TREE REEF <br /> (portugal-winter ’97-’98)<br /><br />First time in ten years <br />that I've lived within <br />walking distance of the beach.<br />And not just any beach, CARCAVELOS.<br /><br />In the summer,<br />a beautiful, but crowded destination <br />for working-class Portuguese beachgoers.<br />The sand is clean and the<br />surface of the water lake-like.<br />But in the winter,<br />the wide belt of golden sand<br />almost entirely disappears<br />and is replaced by sea and river trash;<br />(Oil barrels, logs, hypodermic needles,<br />plastic tampon applicators, <br />dead fish and birds,<br />and the occasional dead dog or dead cow)<br />that get washed up <br />with an almost endless <br />succession of storms. <br />But more importantly<br />aside from the unwanted <br />addition of trash,<br />these storms <br />also bring with them <br />powerful well-shaped waves.<br />Carcavelos is one <br />of the best beachbreaks<br />in Europe.<br /><br />No, it's not paradise, <br />but it used to be alot worse<br />when I first arrived here five years ago.<br />At that time, <br />it was polluted not only with junk,<br />but also raw sewage. <br />The authorities <br />have since rerouted<br />the sewage <br />(to ease strains on the tourism trade)<br />to a less accessible part of the coast<br />so now it's mostly the trash, <br />junk and dead animals<br />you've got to deal with.<br />Like I said, it's not Eden by the Sea,<br />but it sure as fuck beats<br />not surfing at all.<br /><br />To maintain <br />my own personal equilibrium,<br />I need both <br />stimulating urban culture <br />and close access to rideable surf.<br />And THIS is as good <br />as a combination<br />as I'm likely going to find<br />anywhere in the world.<br /><br />I'm a twenty-five minute train away <br />from the center of Lisbon.<br />I'm a fifteen-minute train ride from<br />the record company <br />(Valentim de Carvalho in Paco de Arcos).<br />And best of all, <br />a ten-minute walk<br />from Carcavelos.<br />I've even got an ocean view.<br />I can't actually see the waves<br />breaking from my window,<br />there is a small pine forest<br />(eagerly awaiting to become <br />apartment complexes)<br />blocking my vision,<br />but I can see the swell lines <br />on the bigger days.<br /><br />Ritualistically,<br />I get up around dawn,<br />spark up some coffee and exit<br />(with blue ceramic mug in hand).<br />Elevator from the fifth floor<br />to the ground level,<br />cross the corner of the parking lot,<br />through a tiny park,<br />across a small road,<br />through the fields<br />between the Sao Goncalo Estate <br />and the N.A.T.O. building,<br /> (this time of year the fields<br />are covered with a zillion<br />yellow sour flowers)<br />and across the coast highway<br />to see if Atlantida is in a good mood or not.<br />In Portuguese, <br />the word OCEAN is masculine,<br />but I know better than that,<br />She is PURE female,<br />a temperamental sugar-bitch.<br />I love her. I hate her.<br />She loves and hates me too.<br />She never lets me get too satisfied.<br />So I've got choice but to return daily.<br /><br />Usually a thirty-second check <br />is all I need<br />to know if I'm going to ride<br />or not.<br />If it's on<br />I'll walk home,<br />suit up, wax up<br />and walk back to the beach.<br />If it’s no good,<br />I'll stay in and continue<br />to pretend being an artist<br />(like I've been pretending <br />for a long, long while now):<br />paint, sculpt, scribe...whatever.<br /><br />Yesterday was too small to surf<br />and today was windy and rainy,<br />so I skipped the morning check altogether<br />and got to work on some new songs.<br /><br />But at my big window,<br />(with pen in one hand<br />and microphone in the other),<br />a movement on the distant horizon<br />caught my attention:<br />A five-meter peak rolling off<br />some forgotten sandbank about <br />a couple of kilometers<br />out to sea above the tree tops. SHIT!<br /><br />I get down there to take a look.<br />It's HUGE, out of control.<br />Windy and beginning to rain again.<br />Out of the question.<br /><br />I stand there a good thirty minutes,<br />just feeling the ocean's anger,<br />then walk back on the muddy red trail<br />through the sour-flower covered fields<br />back home to the EMBRYO,<br />my laboratory of illusion.<br /><br />I have a good day with the pen and mic<br />and hours disappear,<br />(a kind of cerebral holiday).<br />And about five in the afternoon,<br />I finally complete a rough draft<br />of a new idea.<br /><br />For the first time since noon,<br />I take a good long look <br />out the window.<br />The rain had stopped.<br />The wind had stopped.<br />The sun shone through<br />a crack in the black storm clouds<br />and I had the urge, desire, whatever<br />to say goodbye, good afternoon, good night<br />to that bitch, that babe,<br />my lover, my sister, my mother<br />my friend, my enemy<br />my life, my death,<br />my gain, my loss,<br />my focus, my distraction,<br />my sport, my art,<br />The Ocean.<br /><br />Back through the mud<br />with headphones on my dome<br />(lately, I'm more addicted <br />to sound than ever before.<br />If I'm not creating it,<br />I'm listening to it...CONSTANTLY).<br /><br />I arrive at my usual check-out spot,<br />just over the small hill <br />looking across Marginal .<br />It's still huge,<br />but the texture of the surface <br />is now mirror-like glass.<br />The swell has somehow organized itself<br />during the last several hours<br />and perfect double AND<br />EVEN TRIPLE overhead rights<br />are dumping (absolutely SLAMMING!)<br />on what I call "Palm Tree Reef"<br />then reeling off into <br />a deep water channel.<br /><br />Actually, Palm Tree Reef<br />is not a reef at all,<br />but a very sturdy sandbar<br />that never seems to relocate.<br />And there are no palm trees<br />on the beach either,<br />the palm trees are paintings.<br />The flat cement seawall protecting<br />the Marginal Highway (from swells like these)<br />is covered with <br />giant block-letter graffiti murals,<br />mostly from the same crew of artists<br />and all similar in style and color.<br />From the water looking back to land,<br />all the murals bleed together into an enormous<br />strip of intricately patterned wallpaper<br />stretching from one end<br />of the 2km long beach to the other.<br />And is only interrupted by two, <br />three-meter high brush-painted palm trees<br />about three quarters of the way <br />south of the beach’s center.<br />Easily visible from three-hundred meters<br />out in the ocean.<br />And Palm Tree Reef,<br />is located directly in front of them.<br /><br />On days with excessive current,<br />it's useful to use the palms as a line-up marker<br />to make sure you'll be over the sandbar <br />and in position for the sets when they arrive.<br /><br />Running back to the Embryo,<br />I slip in an oily-slick mud puddle<br />and land on my ass,<br />(drowning my two-week old Discman).<br />But seventeen-minutes later,<br />wet-suited, <br />with a freshly waxed 7'2"under my arm,<br />I'm back at the water's edge.<br />I'm anxious and ready to go,<br />but also weak and tired<br />from forgetting to eat all day<br />and downing cup after cup of black coffee.<br />But fuck it,<br />I'M OUT THERE.<br /><br />The first wall of whitewater<br />rolls over me blasting about twenty liters<br />of icy Atlantic through my wetsuit<br />and pushing me back almost all the way<br />to the beach.<br /><br />I make a little progress,<br />then another descends upon me.<br />Then again and again.<br />For every five meters of progress,<br />three meters were automatically deducted<br />with every coming wave..<br />ONE wave, TWO waves, THREE waves,<br />FOUR, FIVE waves,<br />coming in at about fifteen-second intervals.<br />But instead of coming in sets like most days,<br />(with lulls in between),<br />today they were marching in<br />one after another.<br />FIFTEEN.SIXTEEN.SEVENTEEN.<br />I began calculating the time<br />using the wave intervals.<br />EIGHTEEN. NINETEEN. TWENTY waves<br />(about five minutes, I thought).<br />Some waves were significantly bigger<br />than others and dragged me even father back.<br />And even though my arms <br />were beginning to feel like pudding,<br />I persisted.<br /><br />THIRTY-ONE. THIRTY-TWO.<br />THIRTY-THREE. THIRTY-FOUR.<br />Number THIRTY-FIVE was lighter<br />than those preceding it<br />and I made double time.<br /><br />THIRTY-SIX, FORTY-ONE, FORTY-SEVEN.<br /><br />SIXTY-THREE was a nasty mother<br />that ripped the board out of my hands<br />and pushed me three meters<br />below the surface.<br />SEVENTY-NINE.<br />NINETY-FOUR.<br />ONE-HUNDRED!<br />One-hundred waves,<br />about twenty-five minutes I calculated.<br />My arms completely Jello<br />at this point,<br />but not about to quit.<br />ONE-HUNDRED TEN.<br /><br />NOW GOING THROUGH THE IMPACT ZONE,<br />seemed like there was <br />more time between waves,<br />but when they landed they EXPLODED.<br />I lost my board several more times.<br />Exhausted as I was, <br />I became concerned for my own safety,<br />(glad I'd used the heavy-duty leash).<br /><br />ONE-HUNDRED SEVENTEEN.<br />I ascended and descended the monster<br />without taking any water on the head.<br /><br />Free at last<br />(sitting two-hundred meters off the beach).<br />The sun had already gone down <br />and most of the cars on Marginal<br />had already begun using their headlights.<br />I can barely make out the palms on the seawall,<br />but I can see that I'm about fifty meters<br />off my mark to the south,<br />so I start paddling up to the reef.<br /><br />While I'm still in the safety of deeper water,<br />a bigger than usual group of waves appears,<br />stands up to attention,<br />then on after another<br />(like missles dropping out of a plane)<br />the payloads DETONATED onto the sandbar,<br />transforming millions of liters of water<br />into contorting black dinosaurs.<br />Then silence........<br />There was a long enough lull<br />to allow me to get situated just right.<br /><br />But minutes later,<br />the black walls appeared again,<br />(the first one beginning <br />to break much farther out<br />than I'd predicted).<br />I scratched for the horizon<br />barely making it over <br />and saw the second wave,<br />slightly smaller,<br />but still <br />easily five-meters on the face.<br /><br />She came right to me.<br />What could I do?<br />I RODE.<br />It was TOO easy.<br />The drop effortless.<br />And the water so smooth<br />my board cut the surface<br />like a surgeon's scalpel.<br />There was no tube on this one<br />but the wall was near-vertical <br />for the next 70 meters<br />eventually backing off in the channel,<br />where it reformed<br />into a long left across the inside.<br />This inside section alone<br />would've been a memorable<br />wave for me on any other given day.<br />I didn't offer much of a challenge<br />to my liquid sister, <br />just cruised,<br />letting her to do most of the work.<br />She took me all the way in.<br />I stepped off my board directly onto the sand<br />between an old tire and a dead seagull.<br /><br />I walked up the seawall stairs<br />and up into the parking lot.<br />There were several people<br />in and outside of their cars<br />mostly upper middle-classers (betinos).<br /><br />A couple of them nodded to me,<br />some smiled and others stared.<br />I nodded, smiled and stared back accordingly.<br />Had I met them before?<br />Were they in awe of my stupidity<br />(to be only the person <br />dumb enough to be in the water <br />on a night like tonight)?.<br />Had they been watching me<br />get the shit kicked out of me<br />by a hundred and seventeen waves<br />before being rewarded the payback?<br />Had they been watching too much TV <br />and seen one of my videos?<br />I'll never know.<br /><br />But what I do know,<br />is that this afternoon was a gift<br />and mine alone,<br />a reminder to stick it out.<br />It's sometimes worth it to take<br />a hundred and seventeen failures on the head<br />for a few precious seconds of happiness<br />and accomplishment.<br /><br />I crossed Marginal at the street light,<br />then back through the fields,<br />across the small road,<br />and tiny park. <br />and across<br />The complex's parking lot.<br />I tracked mud <br />through the building's entry way<br />to the elevator.<br />But the elevator was broken,<br />so I tracked mud all the way up<br />five-flights of stairs too.<br />(leaving at all of my beloved neighbors’<br /> doorsteps a subtle reminder, <br /> that I was among the living,<br /> a survivor).<br /><br />Scalding hot shower,<br />(even washed the mop that I call hair).<br />I Dressed.<br />Then split back out the door<br />to the station<br />and trained to town.<br /><br />She met me at the station in Lisbon.<br />We ate at a restaurant in Cais do Sodre<br />amongst the druggies and whores.<br />We'd planned on going to a party<br />up at Soul Factory after dinner,<br />but by the time we'd eaten dessert<br />and had coffees <br />at Espaco Agora Student Center,<br />It was already two a.m.<br />Time passed quickly with her.<br /><br />"Let's go", she said, <br />assuming I'd be sleeping over at her place<br />(I usually did on Sundays,<br />Monday being her only day off work).<br /><br />"Can't....I gotta go".<br /><br />I can see from her face<br />that she immediately <br />assumes the worst (another girl).<br /><br />"I'm gonna surf early", I say,<br />"It's going to be EPIC".<br /><br />She understands,<br />she SAYS, with a forced smile on her face<br />and walks me back to the station<br />before taking a cab to her crib.<br /><br />When I get home,<br />I make the necessary preparations,<br />(get all of my shit together<br />for the dawn patrol):<br />wetsuit ready,<br />board waxed,<br />leash attached,<br />earplugs and dry towel on standby.<br /><br /><br />At seven a.m.<br />no need to check it,<br />(skip coffee too).<br />I'm out of the house trotting through the mud.<br />The wind is light offshore,<br />the sun is glimmering,<br />the tide (I know from looking at the chart)<br />is medium-low coming to high around ten a.m.<br />Gonna be classic.<br />My heart is pounding.<br />Fuck, I hope it didn't get any bigger.<br /><br />But as I reach the hill I don't see any waves.<br />Great, (I think naively), there are lulls.<br />At least it'll be easier to paddle out today.<br />I wait for the green light<br />to cross Marginal<br />and into the parking lot.<br />I stand there for a few minutes <br />to survey the best peaks,<br />but none arrive<br />and No One is in the water.<br />But this time,<br />not to avoid danger,<br />but because it's dead calm.<br />LAKE FLAT.<br /><br />"At least it's a beautiful day"<br />I say out loud<br />trying to reassure myself.<br /><br />THE *%$#%$ ing Bitch !! !<br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Morocco is:<br /><br /><br />Morocco is:<br />The land of endless <br />right point breaks<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Blue skies, sunshine, <br />emerald green water, <br />cactus, palms, rocks, dust, <br />sand and wild flowers, <br />golden dawns and <br />psychedelic sunsets. <br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Mint tea with two cubes <br />of raw sugar <br />and fresh bread, <br />bananas, figs and dates.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Roadside fairs selling <br />every—thing from fly-covered <br />lamb carcasses <br />to Djalabas (the local attire) <br />and underwear.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Vast Farmland being tilled <br />by camel-drawn plows.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Hearing the ceremonial <br />Muslim prayers <br />five times a day <br />from a loud speaker <br />of the village mosque.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Getting sunburned during the day <br />and getting the chills at night.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Anxiously awaiting your first plate <br />of couscous in three years <br />and having the rest of <br />your traveling companions <br />craving burgers <br />at the new McDonalds’ in Agadir.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />A land without alcohol.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Bathrooms without toilets.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Goats that climb trees <br />and goats that eat garbage <br />who the get eaten by the people <br />who feed them the garbage.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Being religiously careful <br />to avoid all tap water <br />and any questionable food; <br />getting sick anyway, <br />almost dying and missing <br />the best waves of the trip.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Being on the beach of Tagazout <br />at night while the fishermen <br />are bringing in a huge haul <br />of squid <br />and seeing thousands <br />of shimmering eyes <br />still glowing phosphorescently <br />with life.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Thinking your clever <br />for negotiating <br />the price of a two-pound, <br />raw turquoise necklace <br />from eighty dollars down <br />to fifty dollars <br />plus three used T-shirts <br />just to discover your friend <br />has just bought <br />an identical necklace <br />for only two T-shirts and no money.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Where old shoes, <br />T-shirts and towels <br />are worth more than <br />you could’ve ever imagined.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Getting hassled by the cops <br />so frequently you learn <br />just the right lies <br />to tell them to avoid problems.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Getting rocks thrown at you <br />by angry Safi locals.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Arriving at a small village, <br />on the way to the mountains, <br />and having forty <br />eager school children <br />run up to your van – <br />all with outstretched hands <br />saying, One Dirim?. <br />Instead of money, <br />you hand a couple <br />of T-shirts into the crowd<br />almost causing riot, <br />as they fight over property rights.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />The land of beautiful women <br />you will never get <br />a chance to speak to.<br /><br />Morocco Is: <br />The native melancholy expression.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Making friends with the villagers <br />and getting invited <br />to a barbeque cave party.<br /><br />Morocco is: Waiting two hours to use the village’s only phone.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />The land of irregular angles <br />and glassless windows.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />The inner city labyrinths of Marrakesh.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Out of the way rock shops <br />selling giant prehistoric <br />sea snail fossils <br />as big around as truck tires.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Going inland on a small day <br />and discovering an oasis valley.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />Being on a snow-capped <br />Atlas peak and looking <br />down across the desert <br />all the way to the Atlantic. <br />Looking down to our feet <br />in the snow and seeing <br />thousands of bring red lady bugs <br />pepper-spotting the area,<br />freshly brought in <br />with the dry smelling Sahara winds.<br /><br />Morocco is: <br />the land of <br />endless right point breaks.<br /><br /><br /><br />ADVENTURES IN ADVERTISING <br /><br />Part 1: Accidental Purists<br />Day 1:<br /><br />It’s bizarre how time <br />can compress or expand, <br />depending on circumstances. <br />A mere micro-second <br />in the barrel can feel like a minutes. <br />Waiting for a delayed plane <br />can feel like weeks. <br />And for an unlikelycrew <br />of 29 individuals (ages 15-50), <br />traveling to mainland Mexico <br />to shoot the 2003 OP ad campaign, <br />a week was seemingly transformed <br />into several months.<br /><br />For the first couple days, <br />it was just the seven of us, <br />a skeleton crew of photographers, <br />cameramen, art director, <br />and marketing folk<br />with the intention <br />of scouting locations, <br />and hopefully, surf. <br />But we’d missed the swell. <br />Wrong angle... <br />Wrong tides... <br />Wrong wind… Wrong coast... <br /> <br />Left as dismal substitutes <br />were 18-inch <br />marshmallow crumblers, <br />staggering drunkenly <br />across an exacto blade, <br />lava shelf completely <br />encrusted with thousands <br />of baby sea urchins. <br />And the water was too damn hot, <br />offering 0% refreshment <br />from the tropical madness. <br />Anyone over 95-pounds <br />was shit out of luck wave-wise, <br />but the chocolate-skinned <br />village groms <br />utilized the impotent dribblers <br />as a skate park, <br />each of them with repertoires, <br />including airs and reverses <br />(style hopefully will come in time). <br />One thing was for sure, <br />this was their break. <br />Age, ability, and size <br />were not taken into consideration, <br />of whom, they rode in front <br />and behind of. <br />They snaked all of us <br />and each other, <br />over and over again. <br />No pecking order <br />of any kind existed, <br />but up on the beach it <br />was all bro-shakes and smiles.<br /><br />We had arrived <br />just six hours earlier. <br />An hour and a half, of which, <br />had been spent trying <br />to clear100 clothing samples <br />through customs <br />(finally achieved with cash bribes, <br />sweet talking and a couple of pairs <br />of corduroy walk shorts). <br /><br />Another two hours <br />had been burned <br />digging our rented van <br />out of bottomless pothole.<br /> And the remaining time <br />we’d been tap-dancing over urchins. <br />The trip already seemed doomed. <br />But at dusk, walking <br />up the hill to <br />our luxurious borrowed palace, <br />the methodical blink <br />of fireflies<br />began flickering like <br />a glimmer of hope <br />through thick vegetation <br />on both sides of the path. <br /><br />I love those little flappers,<br />someone said, <br /><br />Yeah,e too. We used to crush‘em <br />and rub the glow powder all over our faces.......<br /><br />Yeah...I remember the time..........<br /><br />Day 2: <br /><br />More location scouting: <br />a deep jungle trail boogie, <br />climaxing with <br />a wade through a putrid, <br />mosquito-larvae infested mud pond. <br />The rewards? <br />A clean white sand beach <br />and 2-4 foot glassy but gutless rollers. <br />Enough scouting -- we surfed. <br /><br />Once again, <br />local kids were <br />on everything in sight. <br />I wondered if they even realized <br />that by taking turns <br />they’d have even more fun. <br />I was stoked to see, <br />the campaign’s lead shooter, Colin Finlay, <br />(who I’d known only by photographic rep <br />and had no idea was even a surfer), <br />catch one of the better waves <br />and milk it to the sand. <br /><br />New arrivals began trickling in <br />later that afternoon. <br />Our final group equivalent <br />the size of an independent <br />feature film crew: <br />7 pro surfers <br />(an injured Tim Curran among them),<br /> 2 swimsuit models <br />(one of whom, Ana Paula Limez, <br />wanted to surf just as much <br />as the contract riders), <br />2 makeup artists, <br />2 clothing stylists,<br />1 designer, <br />3 photographers, <br />2 cameramen, <br />1 art director,<br />1 V.P. of marketing, <br />2 marketing coordinators, <br />2 cooks and our host family, <br />the Taylors.<br /><br />In the morning, <br />our two Californian chefs <br />drove an hour <br />out of their way to <br />the Sam’s Club in Vallarta <br />to buy 60 pounds of frozen fish. <br />FROZEN FISH??? <br />Here we were, <br />located at the goddamn <br />fisherman’s Bay of Plenty, <br />and the mofos are driving <br />to buy fish imported from Chile.<br /><br />The next few days <br />could technically <br />be considered work, <br />but with cool people <br />in a beautiful setting, <br />the atmosphere was not exactly stressful: <br />shooting film, taking photos, <br />getting sun burnt, <br />avoiding giant flying ants, <br />sweeping scorpions out of our rooms, <br />scooping beatles <br />the size of potatoes <br />out of the pool, <br />drinking Pacificos <br />and attempting to find waves.<br /><br />You tend to talk a lot <br />on a trip like this, <br />plenty of down-time,<br /> transport time <br />and time to hear <br />people’s own versions <br />of their own life stories, <br />(not just what you <br />have learned through <br />the grapeweed <br />or read in surf magazines). <br />Among us were: <br />celebrated pros, <br />big wave hell raisers, <br />glowing hot upstarts, <br />underground film makers, <br />an award winning photojournalist, <br />and two voluptuous sex symbols. <br />But considering the talent roster, <br />egos were at an all time low. <br /> Barriers were broken. <br />Groms and veterans <br />had the same rank and file <br />(and equal opportunity <br />to ride shotgun <br />on wave checks). <br /><br />Lately it seemed, <br />I ‘d been surrounded day to day <br />with people who just “talk stuff”, <br />their whole lives devoted <br />to the pursuit of material subsidies. <br />That shit gets old after a while, <br />downright boring. <br />But people here <br />were having real conversions <br />about real things; <br />waves, travel, music <br />and relationships. <br />(What else is there?). <br />This was group therapy. <br />The Breakfast Club, <br />estilo Juevos Rancheros.<br /><br />Five days (or was it months) <br />into this sojourn, <br />a distant tropical depression <br />(that we’d barely <br />been paying attention <br />to by weather reports) <br />was now a Category 3 hurricane <br />a couple of hundred miles <br />off somewhere. <br />Enough to send <br />our pink-bellied cooks <br />scrambling to the airport <br />to get the hell out of Dodge. <br /><br />With empty stomachs, <br />the rest of us took it all in stride. <br />But by the next morning, <br />the system was <br />now being reported <br />as a Category 5 <br />and predicted to hit land <br />in the exact vicinity of <br />our low-lying adopted village, <br />Sayulita. <br /><br />Although not yet <br />an official evacuation, <br />it was strongly advised <br />that we relocate an hour south <br />to Puerto Vallarta <br />into the protection <br />of Bahia de Banderas. <br />Facing northwest <br />and protected by high headlands <br />to the south, <br />hurricanes had never <br />entertered the sheltered bay.<br /><br />Departure was set for eight pm. <br />With a little light left, <br />a few of us <br />snuck down the hill <br />for a few softies <br />in front of the village <br />(the water still too warm, s<br />till nicking our feet <br />on the rocks and urchins, a<br />nd the lineup still infested <br />with neighborhood kids <br />demolishing every ripple in sight). <br />The hurricane warning <br />had to be a hoax, <br />the swell had actually decreased.<br /><br />Sean Taylor’s birthday tonight: <br />we ate soggy grilled lobsters <br />and cake and sang <br />happy birthday <br />before stockpiling <br />into four vans. <br /><br />Most of us had arrived <br />on separate planes <br />in phases as strangers, <br />but we were leaving <br />as a single tribe <br />of brothers and sisters. <br />The southward journey <br />was a smooth one, <br />moonlit tropical perfection. <br />The kind of night made for driving, <br />we could have kept <br />going all the way to Guadalajara......<br />and we should have.<br /><br />Most of the hotels <br />were completely booked, <br />but we eventually ended up <br />in the Sheraton’s <br />rock-star marble lobby, <br />cramming into elevators <br />en route to our assigned rooms. <br />Some people crashed early, <br />but true insomniacs <br />migrated to the halls. <br />It was, after all, <br />Sean’s 18th birthday (<br />and Holly Beck’s 22nd <br />was just a couple of days away). <br />AND we had escaped the storm! <br />This justified celebration.<br /><br />Taxis to old town Vallarta, <br />like a mass of tourists <br />arriving by cruise boat, <br />we completely overran <br />one of the nearly empty <br />ocean front bars, <br />(the staff ecstatic at our arrival). <br /><br />On the ride down, <br />I’d overheard Sean <br />ask volumptous model Sarah Stage <br />what she was giving him <br />for his birthday. <br />What do you want?, she asked. <br /><br />A lap dance, he said.<br /> <br />“Ok”, she responds. “<br />I’ll buy you one <br />as soon as we get to town.” <br /><br />But in the end, <br />Sarah had her way. <br />It was Sean <br />who ended up <br />giving her the dance <br />(women rule the universe). <br /><br />The metallic sounding techno<br />didn’t vibe well with our crew, <br />and some people <br />segregated straight off <br />to the pool table, <br />but Jamo Pibram went upstairs <br />and threatened the DJ, <br />ensuring bass-heavy, <br />bumping hip hop joints <br />for the remainder of the evening. <br /><br />Two For One drink specials <br />were rampant, <br />meaning they just diluted them <br />twice as much <br />(but all of us at least grooving <br />on a psychological buzz). <br /><br />Pretty OP marketing coordinator, <br />Nikki Larsen had to fight off <br />several locals that <br />were hovering about <br />trying to stick to her like glue....<br />(she’d received two separate <br />marriage proposals <br />by the end of the evening). <br /><br />And people <br />you wouldn’t have expected <br />to even dance at all, <br />were throwing down moves <br />that would’ve made Travolta <br />sweat with envy. <br />Filmmakers Mark Jeremias <br />and Jason Baffa were solid standouts, <br />but wild man,<br /> Bron Heussenstamm dominated. <br /><br />Four hours later, <br />emerging outside into light rain,<br />I overheard the doorman saying <br />the hurricane was already <br />300 kilometers north of us.<br />We’d survived.<br /><br /><br />Part 2: The Greatest Show On Earth<br /><br />We were all up early <br />considering the near all-nighter <br />we’d just pulled. <br />It was still raining, <br />not a particularly impressive rain, <br />but now there was wind. <br />And instead of being lake flat <br />out in front the hotel, <br />there was now two-foot shore pound.<br /><br />It’s starting, prophesized <br />the shoot’s art director Eric Crane <br />over orange juice in the lobby bar. <br />We ignorantly watched<br /> in amusement <br />as the swell size <br />and wind velocity <br />both quadrupled <br />in about an hour. <br />On the way back upstairs,<br />we bumped into North Carolinian <br />power-styler, Matt Beauchump, <br /><br />the only person among us <br />who had ever even been <br />near a hurricane....... <br /><br />See those waves, he said, <br />in about three hours <br />they’ll be breaking <br />through the lobby.<br /><br />Like disbelieving peasants <br />listening to Noah’s promise <br />of the great flood, <br />we disregarded <br />the information <br />as pure fantasy.<br /><br />But minutes later, <br />the storm was already <br />kicking the shit <br />out of the tile rooftops <br />and palm trees. <br />And suddenly <br />the whole thing just snapped! <br />The waves, wind <br />and rain seem <br />to hyper-accelerate <br />in a single second. <br />Downpour charged the hotel <br />in grey opaque blankets <br />of solid water. <br />The initial gust of wind <br />blew out a couple <br />of 4x6 foot hallway windows. <br />And like giant liquid teeth <br />trying to swallow the entire coast, <br />monster Teahupoo-esque <br />mud grinders <br />greedily devoured <br />the sandy beach away <br />in a matter of minutes <br />and were now gnawing <br />on the cement walkway <br />leading to the back entrance<br />of the Lobby. <br /><br />Surges of muddy white water <br />rushed up the lawn, <br />across the pool <br />and right up <br />against the building. <br />This monumental rise <br />in tide level soon brought <br />the waves in even closer. <br />Incredulously we watched <br />the hotel’s beachfront restaurant <br />get completely demolished <br />by a single, three-story wave, <br />(its fifty foot high palapa <br />popped like an enormous <br />palm leaf pimple). <br /><br />Eight foot walls of whitewash <br />were now going <br />right through the hotel’s lobby, <br />stripping bricks off the walls <br />and plaster off the ceiling. <br />And pushing EVERYTHING, <br />including: sofas, computers, <br />lawn chairs, refrigerators, <br />pots and pans, palm trees, <br />sand, mud, rocks <br />and garbage <br />completely through the building <br />and out the front doors<br /> into the muddy swamp <br />that used to be the parking lot <br />and tennis courts. <br /><br />At this point, <br />security came through <br />the corridors instructing <br />everyone to go up to the 7th floor. <br />Phone, electricity and water <br />were long gone. <br />And we’d also just been informed <br />there was a gas leak. <br /> The elevators being disabled, <br />we used the service stairwell. <br />With horrific sounds <br />of the flooding taking place <br />only a couple of floors below, <br />the walk up the pitch dark stairwell <br />resembled a scene from <br />The Poseidon Adventure. <br /> <br />On the 7th level, <br />we passed an open room <br />where most of the hotel’s staff <br />were sitting on the floor <br />holding hands in a circle <br />and praying. <br />This image, <br />more than anything else, <br />began to plant seeds <br />of real fear within our group. <br /><br />We all packed <br />into a single room <br />where trip supervisor, <br />Michael Marckx, did a head count <br />and came up a couple people short <br />(only hours later did we learn <br />of our friends whereabouts).<br /><br />Two natural gas containers, <br />both the size of station wagons, <br />got ripped off of the roof off <br />the hotel’s garage (<br />where they’d been bolted down) <br />and flew away like balloons. <br />One punctured on landing, <br />the pressurized vapor output <br />spinning it down the street like a giant top.<br /><br />Because of the hotel’s <br />diagonal angle to the beach,<br />it was possible <br />to watch the storm <br />from the hallways’, retracted, <br />windowless balconies. <br />With the wind rushing sideways <br />past us at 130 mph, <br />we still remained in relative safety. <br />But down below, some of <br />the outer lower level walls <br />of the Sheraton’s <br />pyramid-shaped structure <br />began crumbling <br />like graham crackers in wet milk. <br />No chance of leaving at this point. <br />And nowhere to leave to. <br />Debris flying through the air. <br /> The surrounding area totally submerged. <br />No swimmer on earth <br />could have survived the water that day.<br /><br />Although there was no screaming <br />or hysterical outbursts<br /> among our crew, <br />we all knew there was <br />a significant possibility <br />that the entire hotel could go down. <br />Built on sand <br />with low grade cement and bricks, <br />each gargantuan lip<br /> landing out on the lawn, <br />set shudders up the building’s spine. <br /><br />Peoples’ personalities <br />began to shift under crisis. S<br />some of the maids and attendants <br />began freaking out and crying, <br />others began looting supply cabinets <br />and guest rooms. <br />Even the Wonder Grom, <br />(15 year old, straight-A student, <br />wave-shredder), Erica Hoessini, <br />hungry and thinking<br />it was all over with, <br />karate kicked (and shattered open) <br />a glass mini-bar door to retrieve <br />what she thought was sure<br /> to be her young life’s last Snickers Bar.<br /><br />Hypnotized by the entire spectacle, <br />most of us couldn’t <br />stop staring at the ocean. <br />This was not the ocean <br />we had grown to love, <br />this was an ocean possessed. <br />When the bigger sets crashed, <br />warm water spray <br />from the colossal white explosions <br />splashed our faces <br />way up on our seventh floor balcony. <br /><br />If the high tide <br />and storm surge continued<br /> to rise and the hotel itself <br />took the brunt force of even <br />a single 20 foot set wave,<br />it would've loosened the building <br />from the sand it rested <br />and could have set <br />the Vallarta Sheraton <br />teeter-tottering down <br />into a pile of mud, bricks, <br />and cheap cement. <br /><br />But it didn’t !<br />The extreme tide <br />began to drop, <br />slowing <br />the ceaseless bombardment. <br />The swell diminished <br />and the rain and wind lessened. <br /><br />The once immaculate <br />poolside flower gardens <br />began to reappear <br />as broken trees <br />and twisted metal, <br />eventually revealing <br />the swimming pool <br />(completely filled to the coping <br />with sand, stones, <br />mud and lawn chairs).<br /><br />The whole entire episode <br />had lasted no longer <br />than four hours start to finish, <br />from 9am orange juice <br />until the storm <br />had completely passed us <br />(heading north<br />to obliterate the city of San Blas). <br /><br />Our missing friends <br />reappeared unscathed. <br />The sun came out <br />and clean-up crews <br />with bulldozers arrived <br />to begin making <br />the roads passable again. <br />And as far as we heard, <br />there were (unbelievably) <br />very few human casualties<br />in the entire area.<br /><br />Our vans were still half-submerged <br />in the parking lot, <br />(all eventually started). <br />Walking several blocks inland,<br />we saw familiestrekking <br />through the mud <br />with all of their possessions <br />and animals in tow. <br />We saw jet skis and boats laying <br />in the middle of the streets <br />alongside of logs and rubbish. <br /><br />We passed a weddingdress shop <br />that had been flooded <br />with muddy runoff <br />and had now completely drained. <br />The 11 dresses being displayed <br />on vintage mannequins <br />were each equally dyed to the hip <br />with red mud. <br />We bought snacks<br />in an air conditioned supermarket<br />that had survived without a incident<br />(only 1/2 mile from where we had been). <br />WE personally had seen <br />the worst of it all. <br />Actuall,y as far <br />as Vallarta was concerned <br />the destruction was very localized.<br /><br />Because of the Sheraton’s <br />severe damage, <br />we were again forced to relocate <br />like a band of caravanning gypsies. <br />But by sunset, <br />we were all swimming <br />in a beautiful lapis-tiled pool <br />and ordering pina-coladas <br />and smoothies from the sunken bar. <br /><br />Everything decadently perfect <br />except for the smell of dead fish. <br />The storm, <br />although not visibly damaging <br />this resort, <br />had killed most of the fish <br />in the golf course ponds <br />and the stench <br />was beginning to waft its way <br />over to us, <br />(the only indication here <br />that there had been a storm at all). <br /><br />Had it really even happened? <br />This morning seemed like a week ago.<br />Last night seemed like last year.<br />The longest 24 hours <br />any of us could remember. <br /><br /><br />The next day shooting resumed as scheduled.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />THE FORGOTTEN FOUR<br /><br /><br />There are no waves there…<br />there are no beaches.<br /><br />Not exactly encouraging, <br />but in this case considered a lead.<br />My L.A. neighbor Cristina Casmiro, <br />telling me this now, <br />had said exactly the same thing <br />about her native island Pinheiro <br />three years ago. <br />I’d ignored her warning, <br />gone looking for surf anyway <br />and ended up SCORING. <br /><br />This time the inquiry <br />was not about Pinheiro, <br />(the main island in the chain of five),<br />but of the much smaller <br />“forgotten four” <br />located a hundred miles to the south.<br /><br />Two of the islands <br />were strangely absent <br />from one of the three world-class atlases <br />I’d purchased. <br />And although each <br />over five miles long, <br />none of the four <br />were even individually named, <br />appearing only as Ilhas Abandonadas.<br />Cristina was the only person <br />I’d ever met <br />who had even seen these islands. <br /><br />As a teenager, <br />she’d been there a few times <br />on her Dad’s fishing boat <br />and had described them to me as: <br />Narrow, very mountainous, <br />with steep, near vertical cliffs <br />falling directly in the sea…<br />with NO waves.<br />But I wasn’t convinced the place <br />was a complete write-off.<br /><br />Fourteen hours out of California <br />and three hours off <br />the European continent,<br />I landed on the mother island, <br />and was now heading <br />toward the docks<br />to meet Gustavo, <br />a forty-something year old fisherman <br />Cristina had put me in touch <br />with by internet. <br />Via-email, <br />he’d already agreed <br />to take me to The Forgotten Four <br />and I’d already agreed to the fee, <br />but first impressions were not solid. <br />The guy looked liked a junky…<br />and his boat even junkier; <br />an open 15-foot wooden skiff <br />with a small outboard motor attached. <br />No cushions. No lifejackets. <br />Hardly an ocean-worthy vessel. <br />But hell, the guy had lived this long, right ?<br /><br />Gustavo wanted to leave at sunset,<br />but it was still only about 5pm,<br />Vamos jantar ? (let’s eat ?), he suggested.<br /><br />We entered a small, <br />whitewashed restaurant <br />where he obviously had history <br />with the toothless girl <br />behind the counter. <br />And judging from the way <br />they goo-goo eyed each other, <br />that was probably <br />his basketball in her tummy.<br /><br />He introduced me <br />to the girl me as, <br />Americano <br />(fucking bastard had already <br />forgotten my name). <br /><br />She brought us a huge <br />ceramic pitcher of red wine <br />and a cheap three-gallon,<br />plastic fishing bucket <br />full of about a hundred rock-barnacle, <br />snail-type creatures. <br />Tiny sea-fleas jumped out of the bucket <br />and on to the table <br />as my honorable captain <br />showed me the proper way <br />to eat live “lapas”<br />……scrape them out of their shell <br />using another shell<br /> and throw them down your throat <br />before they have a chance<br /> to crawl away.<br />Two strangers playing a kind<br /> of gastronomical version <br />of Russian Roulette,<br />competing who could eat the most. <br /><br />It was pretty sick <br />to tell you the truth, <br />the endless supply of wine <br />making it only slightly more bearable.<br />But in Pinheiro…do as the Pinheirenses. <br /><br />As we approached <br />the bottom of the bucket, <br />I looked around the small dining room. <br />Most of the other clients <br />were eating Lapas too,<br />except theirs were cooked <br />and served on blue and white plates <br />and covered in melted butter,<br />lime juice and salt. <br /><br />Gustavo started giggling like a sissy, <br />with the girl right by his side, <br />about to have an asthma attack.<br />Some of the other eaters <br />were cracking up too. <br />It wasn’t the first time <br />they’d played this joke.<br /><br />Of the four isles, <br />three had never <br />even been inhabited. <br />The fourth (the southernmost) <br />had supported a fishing village <br />of about three hundred <br />and fifty people until 1989 <br />when an earthquake <br />and following mudslide <br />killed thirty residents <br />and buried most of the town. <br />Most of the survivors left.<br /><br />Some went north to Pinheiro. <br />Most migrated to the Americas.<br />But a core crew of about twenty stayed, <br />shoveling mud for months,<br />Surviving on subsistence farming and fishing.<br /><br />Clear calm night <br />with about a zillion stars. <br />For the first couple of hours <br />we stayed in the swell shadow <br />of the main island, <br />then crossed behind <br />the Abandonadas <br />where it was even calmer. <br />Sheet glass. <br />In the half-moon light<br />we could see their silhouettes, <br />all continuing segments <br />of the same submerged mountain chain, <br />each separated by <br />only a couple of hundred yards <br />mirroring off of the oceans surface. <br />One of those rare visuals that are<br />so beautifully real , <br />they appear to be false <br />like a soundstage at a <br />Hollywood movie studio.<br /><br />At dawn we chugged <br />into a small transparent inlet. <br />Two tiny boats were dry-docked <br />on the rocks. <br />Behind them, <br />a red dirt trail zigzagged <br />up the mountain, <br />disappearing into <br />almost fluorescent green growth.<br /><br />After ten hours at sea, <br />Gustavo didn’t even get <br />out of the boat to rest <br />or eventake a leak. <br />The place is cursed <br />he’d said repititivley . <br />We’d agreed to meet here<br /> at the cove seven days from today.<br /><br /><br />What was left of the village <br />was located on the opposite side <br />of the island,<br />a thirty-minute walk.<br />But thirty-minutes in Gustavo-time <br />was really two and a half hours <br />of steep traversing <br />just to reach the summit. <br /><br />From the perch off the island,<br />it felt like standing on the hump <br />of a colossal sea monster.<br />Surveying from north to the south, <br />it was easy to see <br />both west and east sides <br />at the same time. <br /><br />On the east, lake-like calmness. <br />But on the west…lines. <br />Not big, but consistent. <br />Traveling all the way <br />from the northernmost Atlantic <br />to be wasted along the base <br />of a thousand-foot cliff.<br />But about a third of the way <br />down the island <br />was a flat low-lying peninsula <br />extending out from the cliffs <br />for five-hundred yards, <br />(the result of thousands years <br />of seismic dismantling).<br /><br />The wind was onshore <br />and the tide a little too high, <br />but rolling down opposites sides <br />of the flat were surfable right <br />and left point waves.<br /><br />On the peninsula itself were <br />the carcasses of about fifty <br />black, lava-rock houses <br />that had laid abandoned since 1989. <br />And about ten other homes<br />painted in white. <br /><br />The black ones had no roofs a<br />nd were all at least half- strangled <br />by the overgrowth. <br />But the white houses, <br />those closest to shore,<br />had red clay shingles <br />and were surrounded <br />by immaculate gardens.<br /><br /><br />Olaaa! cheered a baritone voice <br />scaring the shit out of me. <br />The smiling brown man <br />with ridiculously large ears <br />introduced himself as <br />Antonio, a resident farmer. <br />I identified myself as <br />Pappas, a traveling….student. <br />BEM-VINDO, he greeted <br />as if I’d been an expected guest, <br />Vamos almocar ! (let’s lunch!)<br />he proclaimed.<br /><br />We arrived at Antonio’s <br />two-room home <br />where his wife Luisa <br />was preparing a communal meal <br />for all fifteen residents of Atalaia Island, <br />(the place had a name after all). <br />Potato soup mixed with red wine <br />and LIVE lapas !!!<br />Gustavo <br />and his prego-bellied accomplice’s joke <br />hadn’t gone to waste,<br />it had been training.<br /><br />Luisa was complaining <br />that ants that had gotten <br />into the bread dough.<br />Are there ants on the mainland,<br /> young man ?, she asked me.<br />Believe it or not, s<br />he’d never been to the mainland, <br />or even up to Pinheiro.<br /><br />With my new friends <br />looking on in approval, <br />I casually downed about twenty <br />of the biggest lapas on the table <br />(bridging both the language barrier <br />and generation gap in a single sitting).<br /><br />Hadn’t slept in days <br />and was about to drop.<br />Prepared to camp, <br />but they weren’t haven’t it, <br />insisting that I stay in the large stone shed <br />that had once housed the island’s padre.<br />______________________________________<br /><br />In the nocturnal depths of delusion, <br />the lapas were breeding <br />in my stomach,<br />Trying to take over my body <br />from the inside out…<br />Whack !!!<br />The first shot rang.<br />Whack !!!<br />I was on my feet.<br />WhackK !!!<br />What the….???<br />WHACK !!!!!!!<br />Sounded like a Texas-style hail storm.<br />I inched the door open.<br />The storm was coming <br />in from the East.<br />WHACKK !!!!!<br />Whizzing by in a vacoom, <br />fist sized raindrops were<br />exploding like small water balloons. <br />In addition, the wind was carrying <br />small stones off the top of the cliff <br />and a quarter of a mile down to my roof top. <br />When it rains here, it rains rocks too.<br /><br />But by daybreak <br />both wind and rain had stopped.<br />And by lunchtime, <br />the right was doing <br />a pretty decent impersonation <br />of overhead Swami’s…..<br />(with no other surfer or surfboard <br />around for a hundred miles). <br /><br />It’s always freaky surfing <br />somewhere where no one surfs.<br /> No one’s around to tell you <br />where to get in and out of the water, <br />which tides will kill you <br />or warn you of any antagonistic sea life. <br /><br />I tried paddling out at the micro- cove <br />just south of the village <br />and was violently swept farther south <br />toward the cliffs. <br />From there the only way <br />too get out would’ve been <br />paddling down the entire length <br />of the island, <br />around the tip and back up <br />to the boat cove on the other side.<br />Six miles with current.<br />Fuck that.<br /><br />I took the foam straight back to the rocks,<br />walked up a quarter of a mile <br />to the beginning of the left,<br />paddled through an assault of white water <br />and found myself being pulled <br />into good position for the right.<br /> A few ceiling high waves <br />came through.<br />I snagged one thinking <br />it would be an easy down- the line run <br />and got slammed. <br />A LOT faster than it looked. <br />Makeable, but not <br />from the absolute outside. <br />Paddled down a-ways, <br />found my groove and started gettin’ busy.<br />A year’s worth of quality waves <br />in a single afternoon.<br /><br />The next morning, <br />I rode the middle left <br />in front of the salt pond. <br />Softer-shouldered <br />but connecting all the way to the inside. <br />Unfortunately, the wind <br />kept shifting directions.<br />Offshore. Onshore. Side shore.<br />Offshore. Onshore. Side shore.<br />I’d be ready to get out of the water <br />and then it’d switch offshore again <br />or go glass. <br /><br />I’d been ignorantly assuming <br />That the primary swell direction <br />this time of year was always from the North, <br />but this swell filling in definitely <br />had southern orgins. <br />And the following, <br />the right revealed it’s hidden personality. <br />Meaty and bowling hard. <br />The waves now launched you <br />down the point like a catapult. <br />Felt myself going faster than I had <br />in a long, long time <br />with little effort of my own. <br />For this reason, it was difficult <br />to stay deep enough <br />to get really barreled. <br />A couple of nice slots though, <br />got slaughtered on a few too.<br /><br />Saturday: small <br />(the swell window <br />is really small here).<br />Up on Pinheiro, <br />these 24-hour swells were actually three-dayers and<br />probably twice the size.<br /><br />New arrivals today <br />from the main island; <br />a family that had left after the<br />earthquake-now back <br />for their annual vacation along with their kids<br />(the daughter, an exotic twenty year old). <br /><br />Because the shore <br />was too steep and jagged <br />for beach-going, <br />the spot to hang <br />was a fifty-foot strip <br />of black sand <br />on the village side of the salt pond.<br /><br />One of the most euphoric days <br />in my life…eating fish <br />and gulping down wine <br />and firewater <br />with nineteen kindred souls <br />in the Garden of Eden.<br />I never return to places<br /> I’ve experienced real magic. <br />And after only a couple of days <br />on Atalaia, <br />I already knew I’d never <br />be going back there. <br />You never know if it’s the place itself <br />that’s incredibly special, <br />or that small envelope in time <br />you spend there. <br />You walk around through life <br />with these amazing Technicolor memories <br />(it’s all we really have in the end) <br />and if you go back <br />and it’s not the same, <br />it’s destroys everything preceding.<br /><br />The sun disappeared <br />and a big fire was lit. <br />Expecting someone to fetch a guitar, <br />I was amazed <br />when four large African jimbaes <br />appeared out of old Mr. Campos’ hut. <br />The men drummed. <br />And Luisa, Mrs. Campos, <br />the newcomer wife <br />and her babe daughter <br />hauntingly sang to all <br />who had been lost at sea. <br />Looking like voodoo goddesses <br />under a silver moon, <br />these were Ulysses’s sirens reincarnated. <br /><br />Being in old dialect, <br />I didn’t understand <br />many of the words, <br />but it was enough<br />to get my spine tingling.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />MOMENTS OF INSANITY: PART 1 <br />(Jan 3, 2006) <br /><br />Woke up this early morning (Tuesday)<br />to check the surf as usual.<br />There were no waves.<br />It's summer in Rio de Janeiro,<br />not totally surprising.<br /><br />But there was also no sun,<br />the sky dark with cloud cover<br />and only about seventy degrees outside<br />(a huge drop from <br />yesterday's blistering Ninety-Five).<br />I'd actually been waiting<br />for a day like this since moving<br />here from California <br />about four weeks ago.<br /><br />I walked up the street <br />to Sendas supermarket<br />and bought three big <br />bottles of water,<br />went home,<br />put a package <br />of sesame-seed crackers<br />and some of ripe pears<br />into a couple of zip-lock bags,<br />tossed them into an old backpack,<br />got my surfboard<br />and walked the three blocks back to the beach.<br />I counted seventeen women along the way<br />(two were beautiful).<br /><br />I began to paddle<br />from Lifeguard Tower 11 in Leblon<br />all the way out to the first of the Cagarras,<br />a cluster of uninhabited islands,<br />located several miles out in front of Rio.<br /><br />One of the reasons, <br />this excursion had to happen<br />midweek was because <br />on summer weekends<br />several cruise boats a day <br />passed through this exact body of water <br />between the islands<br />and the beaches <br />of Ipanema and Leblon.<br /><br />I doubted very seriously <br />in my ability to outrun one<br />or even get out of the way <br />of one if I had to.<br />Once in a rare while,<br />I'd see one pass by during the week too,<br />but those were odds I could live with.<br /><br />I'd already predicted it <br />to be a long-ass haul<br />and had expected it to be <br />a lot farther than it looked,<br />but it ended up being<br />infinitely farther than even that.<br />Took two-and-half hours <br />of straight, open-ocean paddling <br />just to get out there.<br /><br />Like I said, there wasn't much <br />swell activity today,<br />but the southern flowing current<br />was significant enough<br />that I kept having to readjust my aim<br />to avoid missing the islands altogether<br />and drifting out to sea<br />(The next dry land mass <br />being the Africa Continent,<br />thirty-eight hundred miles away).<br /><br /><br />At about the halfway point<br />I passed an area that was <br />literally a minefield<br />of grapefruit size <br />(and colored) jellyfish.<br />The water looked almost black, <br />reflecting off <br />the darkly overcast sky and <br />the orange invertebrates <br />seemed electrically illuminated.<br />As gingerly as I maneuvered <br />through them,<br />I still ended up brushing up <br />against three or four,<br />but for whatever reason I wasn't stung.<br /><br />Sporadically, <br />yard-long barracudas<br />(being chased by who knows what?)<br />would rocket out of the water<br />and fly five or six feet<br />before noisily splashing down,<br />adding further to <br />the illusionary frontline ambient.<br />There was also an abundance <br />of freshwater plants<br />floating around that had been <br />flushed out to sea<br />from recent violent rains<br />providing even further tactical difficulties.<br /><br /><br />After making it through the war zone,<br />the sea current started <br />pulling much stronger<br />but was now going northward<br />in the opposite direction.<br />I had to change my general overview<br />several more times just to stay on course.<br />In the end, <br />I was really grateful <br />I had waited for a day <br />without much undulation<br />to attempt this voyage <br />for the first time.<br /><br />Ten big, sinister-looking, black, <br />skin-headed vultures <br />started flying circles<br />about thirty-feet above me.<br />Was I really that out of shape<br />that I was already<br />looking like dinner to these bastards ?<br /><br />I started paddling faster<br />and screaming at them in defiance<br />when my right hand<br />slammed into MEAT !!!<br />Big and heavy<br />it was either a dead dolphin..<br />or HUMAN <br />(too smooth-skinned for be a shark).<br />I was too freaked out<br />to stop and investigate,<br />I got the hell out of there!<br />And was thankful to discover<br />that the vultures <br />were definitely <br />more interested in it,<br />whatever it was,<br />than me.<br /><br /><br />Every several minutes, <br />I'd look back shoreward.<br />Where I'd see commercial airliners<br />appearing and disappearing behind<br />Bored Jesus Mountain<br />on their way to and from<br />Galeao Airport in Zone North.<br />And police helicopters<br />constantly transiting back and forth<br />from between the city center<br />and the general area <br />the Rocinha and Vidigal ghettos.<br /><br />High-caliber,<br /> leftover New Year's Eve fireworks<br />were periodically being detonated<br />from different parts of the city,<br />billowing plumes of contrasting white smoke silhouetted by charcoal gray <br />cloud cover,<br />their audibility <br />gradually fading away <br />into the distance along with the <br />visibility of city details.<br /><br />Getting closer to my destination,<br />I began to realize that,<br />in terms of average height <br />and circumference,<br />the size of palm trees<br />on the opposite sides of the island <br />did not match up,<br />although they appeared <br />to be of the same species.<br /><br />All these weeks<br />I had thought that<br />the closest island in the group<br />was mostly long and flat<br />with a single high peak on one side<br />covered by significant vegetation.<br /><br />But what I'd actually been observing<br />was two different islands,<br />a long and flat one<br />being visually montaged (by distance)<br />behind the smaller, but taller more lush one.<br /><br />The other five islands,<br />were separated by greater distances<br />and were obviously independent <br />of each other.<br />I realigned my aim <br />for the hundredth time that day <br />to guarantee arrival on <br />my now smaller target.<br /><br />About two-hundred yards out<br />I passed through an area<br />of much clearer, colder water.<br />FIFTEEN degrees colder!<br />FULLSUIT COLD.<br />Summer in Brazil?....weird.<br /><br />Finally,<br />with my head pounding out <br />a little melody<br />(trace brain damage from<br />my-first-New-Year's-Eve-<br />in-Rio-de-Janeiro-hangover<br />a full two days earlier)<br />and my arms burning <br />with new found soreness,<br />I arrived to my own private paradise.<br /><br />I later learned<br />that all seven of these islands<br />had individual names,<br />but had actually been told<br />the exact opposite by one local resident<br />a few days earlier.<br />This island, MY ISLAND, was called PALMAS.<br /><br />The longer and flatter one,<br />a half mile behind it<br />(that I'd mistaken as part of this one)<br />is ILHA COMPRIDA<br />or in Gringo language, Long Island.<br /><br />Palmas is about a ¾-of-a-mile-around<br />seemingly solid granite oval dome<br />capped with lush tropical jungle,<br />hosting about a thousand Royal Palms.<br />How long it took for enough dirt to collect<br />on top of a smooth protruding surface<br />for even a single insignificant plant to take root<br />and kick off the whole soil making process<br />.who the hell knows?<br /><br />I once read that<br />something like a trillion pounds <br />of dust a year<br />gets kicked up into the stratosphere<br />by windstorms in the Sahara<br />and eventually transmigrate<br />over the Atlantic and get peppered <br />down onto Amazonia<br />courtesy of daily rainfall.<br />We are at least two-thousand miles <br />south of those wind patterns <br />but maybe a couple of dozen ounces<br />managed to make their way <br />down here over the course<br />of say 65,000 years <br />and began compacting<br />on the top PALMAS <br />and its six immediate island neighbors; <br />COMPRIDA, ROTUNDA, <br />MATIAS, PRACA ONZE, CAGARRA <br />and FILHOTE DE CAGARRA.<br />Guess that's as good as explanation <br />as I have to dwell on <br />for the short -term.<br /><br />The shore was really steep<br />And in my delirious state, <br />I had a difficult enough time <br />just getting myself out of the water.<br />But making things <br />even more pleasurable,<br />I nicked my knee on a pincushion<br />of submerged sea urchin spines.<br /><br />After three or four attempts <br />I finally managed to crawl up over<br />the thousands of dormant dry barnacles<br />and stand up straight.<br />With my arms victoriously raised <br />high above my head<br />I let out a hideously loud<br />master-of-the-universe Tarzan yell<br />that was probably heard as far away as Copacabana.<br /><br />"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH<br />!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"<br /><br />Then silence.<br /><br />I chugged <br />a liter-and-a-half bottle of water,<br />chomped down two pears<br />and swallowed some crackers,<br />but my famine still hadn't been extinguished.<br /><br />I'd seen sea urchins <br />on the menus of several<br />sushi bars but had never indulged.<br />Why not now ? I thought, <br />they're abundant here.<br />I grabbed a purple, <br />baseball-sized urchin<br />from just under the surface <br />of the crystalline water<br />and SMASHED it down on the rocks.<br />There wasn't a whole lot of flesh in there,<br />but there was some eggy-looking orange stuff<br />that at least looked kind of edible.<br />I picked out the pieces <br />of broken shell and spine<br />and ate a small quantity<br />(swallowing it without really chewing).<br />IIIICCCCKKKKK !!!!!!!<br /><br />Obviously my culinary skills<br />weren't up to Shinjuku standards.<br />Even with my high-tolerance for grossness,<br />this was the single nastiest substance <br />I'd ever tasted,<br />I barely avoided vomiting.<br />Next time I'll bring <br />wasabe and soy sauce.<br /><br />I left the board and backpack <br />near the water<br />and began exploring.<br />It was extremely difficult to get around,<br />not only because of the incline<br />but because the rock face<br />itself was not that smooth.<br />Up close it was finitely sharp <br />and jagged<br />(and like an idiot,<br />I hadn't even thought about bringing shoes).<br /><br /><br />I tried to climb straight over<br />the highest area of the island<br />(about two-hundred feet at it's tallest),<br />but once I got past the granite slab<br />and the wall started leveling off on top<br />giving way to vegetation,<br />the jungle itself was guarded<br />by a twenty-foot deep barrier<br />of ground-crawling cactus shafts.<br />Impossible to attempt without<br />at least pair of army boots and a machete.<br /><br />There were a couple <br />of random seagulls<br />hanging around chasing crabs<br />back into crevices on the rocks<br />and some prehistoric looking insects,<br />but the island's most prevalent, <br />visible animal life<br />were the black-headed <br />vampiresque vultures.<br />They were everywhere;<br />flying around,<br />walking on the rocks, <br />taking shits<br />and standing on limbs <br />of shrubs and trees.<br />Not even moving <br />when I'd get close to them<br />(no fear whatsoever).<br /><br />A mini Komodo Dragon <br />came out of the cactus patch<br />and laid right in front of me<br />for about fifteen minutes,<br />not at all annoyed by my presence.<br />It's very possible that in his young life<br />he'd never even seen a human personally<br />and had yet to learn from his parents<br />that they are all enemies of the natural world.<br />Me, of course,<br />being no exception to the rule whatsoever.<br /><br />Don't know what he was exactly,<br />some sturdy, exotic-looking, <br />triangle-headed,<br />black and yellow iguana <br />about three-feet long.<br />If I'd been stranded on Palmas for real,<br />he'd have been made into<br />several excellent protein-rich meals.<br />Being as naïve as he was,<br />he didn't look too difficult to hunt.<br />One rock on the head <br />would've probably been sufficient.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I descended the incline<br />and began crawl-climbing <br />the granite face<br />clockwise around the island<br />Maintaining my altitude<br />At only about forty feet <br />above the water.<br />I found six-to eight inch <br />horizontal step-grooves <br />inbetween sedimentary <br />layers of granite<br />randomly glittered with quartz.<br /><br />On these little ledges, I kept my feet<br />as flat as possible while constantly<br />palming the stone wall with a hands<br />on either side of my body.<br />But some parts were nearly totally vertical.<br />I'm no free climber.<br />And the potentiality of falling thirty feet<br />And getting my head split open on a rock ledge<br />only to be gluttonously devoured by a bunch<br />of greedy, arrogant vultures<br />was probably not as amusing as it sounded.<br /><br />I opted to come down to shore,<br />dive into the water<br />and swim around the cliffs<br />until I could climb up again..<br /><br />On these brief immersions<br />I saw one sea turtle<br />and some beautiful,<br />fluorescent blue and yellow fish.<br />Wish I'd brought a mask, <br />a spear gun, a machete<br />shoes, waterproof camera <br />and MORE FOOD.<br />Next time…..(if there is one).<br /><br />It took about an hour and a half<br />to negotiate my all the way around the island.<br />And although I tried to repetitively,<br />I never found a user-friendly enough spot<br />to penetrate the jungle zone.<br />Nature at its wildest.<br /><br />There were all kinds<br />of chaotic insect sounds <br />rhythmically cocktailing<br />around in there <br />with melodic symphony accents<br />supplied by different species <br />of unseen song birds. <br />Everyone had their part <br />and no one missed a beat.<br />Beautiful. I was hypnotized. <br />Very tribal.<br /><br />But occasionally, <br />a random gangster-vulture<br />would spoil it all by shrieking jealously,<br />(as if protesting his own <br />lack of songwriting ability)<br />They were always out of tune <br />and always off rhythm.<br />I hated them even more now,<br />and apparently it was mutual.<br /><br />As I made my way <br />around the last corner<br />of the island,<br />they started reacting <br />more aggressively toward me.<br />Flying nearer to me <br />and squawking harassingly.<br />I'd overstayed my welcome.<br /><br />They could have easily killed me<br />if they'd wanted to gang up on me,<br />but the vibe was more like,<br />Visiting hours are over kid,<br />now get the #%$@ out of here!<br /><br />Back at camp<br />I had to throw rocks <br />at the six vultures<br />bickering with each other<br />over what was left<br />of my Japanese Blue Plate Special <br />(the urchin)<br />just to get near my stuff.<br /><br />Although much smaller <br />than a condor<br />or some other <br />bigger buzzard species,<br />even this variety<br />with their five <br />and six-foot wingspans,<br />could've flown off <br />with my surfboard single-handedly <br />without much effort.<br /><br />I ate the rest of my rations<br />and drank another bottle of water,<br />trying to hydrate as much as possible<br />pre-visioning the minute possibility<br />of being lost at sea.<br /><br />My feet were now raw<br />and bleeding selectively<br />from micro-cuts caused by barnacles<br />and other surface irregularities.<br />And unfortunately at my exit point,<br />below the ring of razor-sharp barnacles<br />that had been located <br />just above the waters edge<br />all the way around the island<br />the descending tide had eventually exposed<br />a six-foot horizontal band of<br />black muscles and urchins<br />that I had to tiptoe over just to get back to<br />the water.......<br /><br />I was in pain, not just my feet<br />But also my shoulders from the paddle,<br />and now I had to do it all over again.....<br />Thankfully the cool water <br />numbed away most of my suffering.<br />And I was on my way.<br /><br />The view of Rio<br />from this far out <br />was absolutely spectacular.<br />The city is completely surrounded<br />by forest-covered mountains.<br />They say the Tijuca Forest is the largest<br />urban forest in the world <br />and believe it or not<br />it was one of the world's first <br />major environmental projects. <br />These mountains were bare in 1850 <br />resulting from four-hundred years<br />of over-ambitious timber industry.<br />The claim is that this entire area <br />was replanted by only eighteen slaves <br />who together planted <br />eighty-thousand indigenous trees.<br /><br />My view was south <br />from the Grumari reserve <br />all the way north to Niteroi, <br />forty miles at least.<br />There are other groups of islands <br />in both directions. <br />(I'd experienced only <br />one of the state of Rio's <br />four-hundred-and-something islands).<br /><br /><br />Predicting the same dual currents <br />I'd encountered<br />on the way over, <br />I steered toward the general<br />direction of the Corcovado Jesus Statue <br />(Bored Jesus)<br />I knew if I aimed there <br />that I'd first be dragged<br />about a half mile even farther north<br />and then 2nd fase of current<br />would eventually carry me about<br />a mile and a half in the opposite direction<br />depositing on the far south side<br />of the beach in Leblon,<br />(hopefully not far from my street, <br />Bartolomeu Mitre).<br /><br />I took a long LONG time to get back<br />and making it worse<br />it started raining heavily <br />as I was going thru thejellyfish field...<br />COLOSSAL bolts of lighting<br />shot across the sky from behind me toward<br />Jesus on the mountain.<br /><br />A boat full of fisherman,<br />rushing to get back to harbor in the storm,<br />took a short detour to motor past me<br />to see if I was alright.<br />I gave them a thumbs up<br />...that I was "ok"<br />And they were on their way.<br />Curiously, two other boats <br />passed me a half hour later <br />and hadn't even <br />bother to investigate...<br />(that's brotherly love for ya).<br /><br />Eventually I could start seeing <br />individual people on the beach,<br /> tourists no <br />doubt<br />Cariocas usually don't stay <br />on the beach <br />when it's raining. <br />The weather is <br />Near-perfect here<br />4-5 days a week..<br />(Why would they bother?)<br />And before long, <br />I could even hear<br />the cars and busses on "PCH".<br /><br /><br />The swell had increased <br />a little throughout the day,<br />which toward the end <br />started helping me <br />not hindering me,<br />giving me a gentle <br />tail-push toward shore.<br /><br />When I got about <br />a hundred feet off the beach<br />a solitary two-foot glassy <br />left appeared behind me.<br />I caught it almost effortlessly <br />butI was so exhausted, <br />I barely had the energy <br />to stand up especially <br />with the extra weight<br />of a now water-filled backpack <br />burdening me.<br />But I managed to force myself <br />to my feet<br />and regally rode it to shore.<br /><br />Like a Hawaiian king <br />I waved to my loyal subjects<br />lining the shore of Leblon <br />anticipating my arrival.<br />One thing had become <br />embarrassingly obvious to me<br />during the course of the day,<br />I am slowly, but most definitely <br />loosing my mind..<br />My fins hit bottom.<br /><br />When I put my feet <br />on the warmish sand, <br />I could feel the new pulsating <br />pillow-blisters painfully <br />de-numbing and coming <br />back to life on of the <br />bottom of my feet.<br />I limped the three blocks <br />back to my apartment<br />counting eighty-two women <br />along the way,<br />thirty-seven of them beautiful<br />(but only the uglier ones smiled back at me).<br /><br />It was still only early evening,<br />but I took a shower<br />and slept<br />for the next sixteen hours.<br /><br />_____________________________<br /><br />Four days later<br />A dead body washed up<br />On the beach at Leblon,<br />a shooting victim of drug wars<br />at the Vidigal favela located a mile away<br />Good chance it was him<br />that I hit on my paddle to the Palmas.<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-115739491976531426?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1137345848383918892006-01-15T09:21:00.000-08:002007-09-23T08:21:00.531-07:00STELLAFLY <br /> Written in 1993 by Ithaka, aka Darin Pappas<br />published as a short story in: SHORTCUT MAGAZINE (japan 1993)<br />LAVA MAGAZINE (usa 1994), REACTOR MAGAZINE (Portugal 1996)<br />And appeared as a spoken word song form as the title track of the álbum, STELLAFY (nortesul-EMI Records 1997)<br />_____________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />She landed like a fly.<br />She left like a fly.<br /><br />The apartment across the hall had been vacant for six months, then suddenly without warning became occupied.<br />She was from the east of Canada,<br />absolutely beautiful, brains too.<br />And I told myself at first sight, she’s trouble.<br />And she was,<br />more than I could possibly imagine.<br />A real fireball-motormouth type,<br />but I really liked that at first,<br />(I like talkative people).<br /><br />The third night she was there<br />we walked down to the New Beverly Cinema,<br />(which was actually an old revival house)<br />for a showing of Street Car Named Desire.<br />And from then on we began calling each other,<br />Stella and Stanley.<br /><br />Whenever I’d come back from a job or something<br />I’d yell up to her window,<br />SSTTELLLLLLAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />But more frequently than not,<br />It’d be her that was coming home from job and yelling <br />SSSSSTTTTTAAAANNNNNLLLLEEEEYYYY !!!!!!<br />She was working her little round ass off,<br />making about ten grand a week <br />as a human prop for fashion catalougues.<br />Didn’t even have a bank account when she first moved in.<br />What do you do with the money?, I asked her<br />Well I bought some CDs yesterday <br />and I got some clothes and.... I got this bag....<br /><br /><br />The girl spent money like an oil shiek.<br />And even with her income<br />was always borrowing from me for food and rent.<br /><br />One of her biggest expenses was táxi fares.<br />She didn’t own a car.<br />Refused to take the bus.<br />And back in those days LA didn’t have a subway.<br /><br />Up to five-hundred dollars a day for táxis.<br />To and from jobs.<br />To and from stores.<br />To and from the movies.<br />To and from the beach.<br />THE BEACH ?!<br />Who the fuck takes a cab from Hollywood to the beach?<br />RENT A CAR !!! I told her.<br />But she didn’t have a license.<br /><br />She eventually took all of my advice.<br />Opened a bank account.<br />Stopped buying so many CDs<br />Started buying used clothes.<br />And bought two cars<br />(still didn’t have a license),<br />a big Ford Bronco which she almost never drove<br />and an old convertible Mustang.<br /><br />SSSTTTTAAANNLLEEYYY !!!!!!!<br />She’d yell as she drove down the alley.<br />SSSSSTTTAAAAAANNNLLLEEYYYY !!!!!!!!!<br />She’d yell as she pulled into the driveway.<br />Then we’d make healthy, disgusting-tasting things to eat,<br />drink cheap wine and talk almost all night<br />on my big blue bed.<br /><br />But always in the middle of some deep conversation<br />she spring to her feet and say sisterly,<br />Goodnight Stan.<br />Goodnight Stella, I’d say.<br />Out my door she went <br />and into her own across the hall<br />where she would start making phone calls.<br /><br /><br />Sometimes I’d hear her talk on the phone<br />for two or three hours back home to Canada;<br />to her gingerbread family,<br />to her old friends...and to her old boyfriend.<br />You see, I was her only friend in LA<br />and the phone was one form of communication<br />she could not live without out<br />(her phone bill was easily four times more than her rent).<br /><br />But I loved this little girl.<br />Miss-nineteen-year-old-motor-mouth-know-it-all.<br />She loved me too,<br />but was afraid to admit it<br />for the simple reason I didn’t look good on paper.<br />No regular job.<br />Skin too dark.<br />Used too many fuck-words.<br />Unsuccessful as a photographer.<br />Unsuccessful as an artist.<br />Whatever would her gingerbread family back home think?<br />And her friends? And her old boyfriend?<br />Afterall, this whole charade of a life she lived<br />was strictly for them, just for effect.<br /><br />Many weeks in advance, we’d planned to go skydiving together,<br />but on the day we had reserved at the skydiving school<br />we got up at four-thirty a.m. <br />and drove all the way out to Paris, Califórnia<br />just to discover the wind was too strong <br />for any planes to go up.<br />She was absolutely heartbroken,<br />didn’t say a word the whole drive back.<br />What’s wrong, Stella ?<br />I dunno.<br /><br />The problem wasn’t <br />that her her long anticipated first jump<br />had been postoned.<br />It was that she’d already told everyone in Toronto<br />that she’d be jumping TODAY<br />And no doubt they’d be calling that night for a documentary.<br /><br /><br />What’ll I tell them? she said.<br />That you’re dead, I said.<br />THAT’S NOT FUNNY STAN !!<br /><br />One night not long after,<br />we’d gone to a big Hollywood Christmas party<br />and gotten completely wasted on mixed tropical drinks.<br />We took a cab home.<br />Then talked for a while on my bed.<br />She put her arms around me,<br />stabbed her tongue into my mouth<br />and climbed up on top of me.<br />She pulled out my dick through the zipper,<br />slipped it under her mini-skirt,<br />around her panties<br />into her unbelievably hot and tight wetness.<br /><br />She rode it.<br />Once up.<br />Once down<br />The must have remembered her loving family,<br />friends and old boyfriend back home in Toronto.<br />I can’t do this, <br />She said rolling off of me<br />standing up and pulling down her skirt simultaneously.<br />I CAN’T DO THIS !!!!<br /><br />She stormed out of my door and into her own.<br />She called somebody in Canada <br />and began telling them how exciting the party had been.<br />Eddie Murphy was there, I overheard her say.<br />He wasn’t, but there was a black guy tending bar,<br />(maybe they all looked the same to her).<br /><br />The best and worst fuck of my life.<br />The Best ,<br />because I loved that little bitch and had waited<br />five months for The Dip.<br />The Worst, <br />because of its four-second duration<br />and transformation <br />of a girl who talked, laughed and ate with me<br />and cared about me.<br />into one who only said,<br />Hi Stan.<br />Bye Stan.<br /><br />The next weekend I went up to Ventura County.<br />When I got home Sunday night she was gone.<br />No note. Nothing.<br />Her apartment was unlocked.<br />Vacant. No furniture. Nothing.<br />Everything was gone except for the cars<br />which she’d left across the street<br />in the Post Office parking lot.<br /><br />The Bronco was stolen the third night.<br />The Mustang was towed by the city<br />about a week after that.<br /><br />In like a fly.<br />Out like a fly.<br /><br />She’d mixed up my head.<br />She’d driven a fork right through my fucking heart.<br />She’d nibbled and chewed<br />all of the self-confidence from my bonés<br />.....and still ...still had the nerve to call<br />four months later from Paris...France.<br /><br />It’s spring here, she said on my answering machine.<br />The sun is shining.<br />The flowers have blossomed.<br /><br />...I miss you Stan.<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-113734584838391889?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1137330494074279702006-01-15T05:00:00.000-08:002006-01-15T05:11:46.213-08:00ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br />Original version from album, Flowers and the Color of Paint (Movieplay Records, 1995) . This is the version that appeared appeared in Colombia Pictures’ feature release, The Replacement Killers (1997). Lyrics: ITHAKA , Music: Pedro Passos, Background vocals: Marta Dias. Recorded at Namouche Studios, Lisbon Portugal. Produced by Joe Fossard.Note: the song was slightly altered lyrically and re-recorded in 1998 with new music written and produced by Joe Fossard. Due to disputes over the original masters, this new recording was released with the title, ESCAPE (Nortesul-EMI records, Portugal).<br />________________________________________________________________________________________<br />________________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />People they ask me, Why the hell you wanna leave?<br />Saying that they’ll miss me, that they’re gonna grieve<br /><br />This town is number one, we got the Lakers and the sun.<br />There’s always lots of lovelies, always lots of fun<br /><br />Why won’t you settle down and stay?<br />Who in their right mind would ever leave LA?<br /><br />But I gotta tell you, got to put it straight<br />still’ve busted out of there busted down the gate<br /><br />Cuz, I had to get out while there was going to get,<br />LA was the hunter, California was the net <br /><br />So I got up, got off of my bucket<br />Sometimes you gotta say, Well what the hell.? FUCK IT!<br /><br />Wasn’t around for the riots of the King<br />But every other night bullets left my ears to ring.<br /><br />HOSTILITY, the song that LA played<br />Every single night and every single day.<br /><br />Walking down the alley, the one behind my house<br />Came five slang-bangers, it was me they were to roust<br /><br />They asked me, Where ya going?, said, Not really sure<br />The next thirty-seconds I remembered in a blur<br /><br />3x WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />I tried so hard for years to understand<br />Why do you find such pleasure in killing another man?<br /><br />I prefer the simple highs in life<br />Like a mountain of water, not cuttin’ with a knife<br /><br />But where I’ve disappeared ain’t confidential<br />The sky’s still blue, the swells are monumental<br /><br />And no, I’m not ignoring my heritage<br />Over the gap, I’m a building a bridge<br /><br />To learn once and for all that peace can exist<br />Forgive, forget, bring down the fists<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />Five days later, what have I got?<br />I’m in another place which is sunny and hot<br /><br /><br />The difference here is that I’m free as a bird<br />No gun to my head, no blood on the curb<br /><br />But just then a strange thought overtook my brain<br />And since that day, it never felt the same<br /><br />If everybody just put down their arms<br />To nobody on the planet could ever come harm<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />The people of this planet they want explanations<br />For riots, earthquakes and all “God’s creations”<br /><br />You got me, I just couldn’t say<br />I do what I do, I take it day by day.<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />Well six weeks later, still don’t know what’s up<br />Don’t got many friends, still got an empty cup<br /><br />They speak in tongues I don’t understand<br />But I look just like ‘em, visually I blend<br /><br />It’s time to start it up in my new land<br />Korvorowng’s one and only survival plan<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />It took me two years, but now I know for sure<br />LA ain’t the enemy and goodness will endure<br /><br />The Seed of Free, my real need<br />Was right there all the time inside of me<br /><br /><br />Just a voyage of my mind is what I needed<br />But now I’m on the other side and deep seeded<br /><br />LA to LAX in fourteen hours flat.<br />At home on two shores, but I ain’t living fat<br /><br />Still plagued by brokenness<br />It doesn’t disappear when I say, hocus pocus<br /><br /><br />But grounded for the moment in the city of Lisbon<br />I’m looking for peace and I’m looking for wisdom<br /><br />Hooked up with a mastermind named, Grizzly<br />Formed Ithaka, now we’re rolling busily<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />3x-WANT TO GET OUT. HAD TO GET OUT. GOT OUT.<br />ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<br /><br />5x- ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-113733049407427970?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1137261657155798302006-01-14T09:58:00.000-08:002006-01-14T10:00:57.173-08:00THE DAY WAS HOT <br />lyrics: Ithaka music : Arkam Hi-Fi, produced by:Mario Caldato Jr.<br />from the TEJO BEAT compilation 1998 (nortesul-EMI)<br />recorded in lisbon, Portugal<br />_________________________________________________________________<br />_______________________________________________________________<br /><br />Did you ever kill anyone?<br />Not exactly.<br /><br />The day was hot, too hot for fun<br />Ninety-eight in the sun, One twenty-one in the sun<br /><br />Boarding down to a job interview<br />Unemployed, no that not new<br /><br />At red light, Pico/Fairfax<br />Laid homeless drunk in my path<br /><br />Wrinkled face, big beard and belly<br />Peacefully passed out, kind of smelly<br /><br />Dinosaur-breath, lion-like snore<br />Dreams all night liquor stores<br /><br />Roasting like Christmas turkey<br />Soon to become a stick of hobo-jerkey<br /><br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT <br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT<br />THE DAY WAS HOT TOO HOT FOR FUN<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN SHADE, ONE-TWENTY-ONE IN THE SUN<br />COULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I COULD<br />SHOULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I SHOULD<br />BUT SOMEONE ELSE’LL HELP (WHO ) GOT TIME TO KILL<br />GOTTA GET THIS JOB, GOTTA PAY MY BILLS<br />THE DAY WAS HOT, THE DAY WAS HOT<br /><br />Meeting for 3:00, was 2:15<br />Time (enough) to be Samaritine<br /><br />Don’t get involved, (I) thought, ain’t my business<br />It wadn’t my fault, god be my witness<br /><br />Could’ve dragged him out of the sun<br />Into the shade of some nearby shrub<br /><br />Someone’ll help (who) got time to kill<br />But got to get this job to pay my bills<br /><br />Light turned green, I’m on my way<br />But for big-belly drunk not a good day<br /><br />The job, the job, the job had been taken<br />It’d been for nothing that I’d been baking<br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT <br />THE DAY WAS HOT……… <br />THE DAY WAS HOT TOO HOT FOR FUN<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN SHADE, ONE-TWENTY-ONE IN THE SUN<br />COULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I COULD<br />SHOULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I SHOULD<br />BUT SOMEONE ELSE’LL HELP (WHO ) GOT TIME TO KILL<br />GOTTA GET THIS JOB TO PAY MY BILLS<br />THE DAY WAS HOT<br /><br />Hour later, back at the corner<br />Now taped off in yellow border<br /><br /><br /><br />In the middle man still asleep<br />But now his snores and dreams ceased<br />He done run out of his life’s lease<br /><br />And while I dazed in confused thought<br />They put him in a truck and hauled him off<br /><br />Like a dead dog with no tag<br />Nameless, buried in vagabond rags<br /><br />His old leather face I will never forget<br />Another debit on my karmic debt<br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT<br /><br />Missed my cue, life to save<br />For big-belly drunk not a good day<br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT<br /><br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT <br />THE DAY WAS HOT THE DAY WAS HOT<br />THE DAY WAS HOT TOO HOT FOR FUN<br />NINETY-EIGHT IN SHADE, ONE-TWENTY-ONE IN THE SUN<br />COULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I COULD<br />SHOULD’VE SAVED HIS LIFE, KNEW THAT I SHOULD<br />BUT SOMEONE ELSE’LL HELP (WHO ) GOT TIME TO KILL<br />GOTTA GET THIS JOB, TO PAY MY BILLS<br />THE DAY WAS HOT, THE DAY WAS HOT<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-113726165715579830?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1137245574886656262006-01-14T05:30:00.000-08:002006-01-14T05:36:21.376-08:00SLEEPDRIVER song #11 from album, FLOWERS AND THE COLOR OF PAINT (1995)<br />lyrics:Ithaka (written 1991) music: Pedro Passos, produced by Joe Fossard.<br /><br />La to Pheonix in Six hours straight<br />Is he awake or is he asleep<br />Drives all night in his GTO<br />To see a squaw he’s left by a red rock<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />Maybe it’s love maybe a death wish<br />Not sure himself in his state of despair<br />Fourteen hour days, five days a week<br />All for a squaw he’s left by a red rock<br />Sleepdriver drove to be on the big screen<br />But the star became a grip (non-union) <br />for not much pay<br />A little is better than none,<br />He sends the checks home he sends her to school<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />And every Friday by eight<br />He’s on the Ten heading east…for love and home cooking<br />But by Sunday at six, he’s on the Ten heading west<br />He’s got to get back, <br />he’s got an eight a.m. call <br />All the way in Valencia<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />The Sleepdriver drove back and forth for years<br />Through dust storms and rain <br />and degrees of a hundred and eight<br />The Sleepdriver drove<br />Dozing off and dozing on<br />Reflector hypnosis a trance-like state.<br />SLEEPDRIVER, SLEEPDRIVER<br />The sleepdriver drove the whole night straight<br />But one night, he just plain fell asleep.<br />And he dreamed of his great grandfather<br />In a feather headband and a pair of moccasins<br />…young as a buck<br />And he was in a new land<br />Even farther from the squaw he’d left<br />By the red rock<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-113724557488665626?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1118184051848749512005-06-07T15:35:00.000-07:002005-06-07T15:43:41.473-07:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;">Artists: Ithaka vs.Cartell 70. Song: "Fuse With Me (c. 2005). .Performed by: Ithaka (voice), Cartell 70 (music). Produced by: Cartell 70.Recorded: April 2005 at GROUND ZERO Studios, Chelas (Portugal)Written by: Ithaka-lyrics (Ravenshark Music /ASCAP/ administered by Memory Lane Music, NY). Beat Laden (from Cartell 70)-music (SPA, Portugal)</span><br />________________________________________________________________________<br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Fuse with me.</span><br />Baby, fuse with me. Baby, fuse with me.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">FUSE WITH ME.FUSE with ME, CRUISE with ME, BOOZE with ME, SNOOZE with ME. fuse with me.LAUGH with ME, CRY with ME, BAKE a PUMPKIN PIE with ME.fuse with me.SING with ME, SCREAM with ME, DO the FUNKY-HULA with ME...fuse with me.FUSE WITH ME . FUSE WITH ME.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Lay in the Sun with Me. Be a Bum with Me. Kill a Roach with Me. Fly Coach with Me.Kill Time with Me. Loose your mind with Me..baby, Fuse with me.Write a Song with Me. Smoke a bong with Me. Plant a Tree with Me. Kill a Disease with Me.Ride a Wave with Me. Sleep in a Cave</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">with Me... baby, fuse with me</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">FUSE with ME. CRUISE with ME. BOOZE with ME. SNOOZE with ME. Fuse with Me.BAKE a PUMPKIN PIE with ME. SING with ME. SCREAM with ME.DO the FUNKY-HULA with ME. FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Sweat with Me. Make a Bet with Me. In Las Vegas with Me, Be Sacrilegious with Me.Play Sinatra for Me. In Sumatra to me. Go to Fiji with Me. Play a Ouija with Me.Be a Pagan with Me. In Copenhagen with Me. Watch a Porno with Me. In Kyoto with Me.Get a Test with Me. Then get Undressed with Me. And Show Your Breasts to Me. In BudapestTo Me.baby, fuse with me.fuse with me, fuse with me</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">.FUSE with ME, CRUISE with ME, BOOZE with ME, SNOOZE with ME. fuse with meBAKE a PUMPKIN PIE with ME. SING with ME, SCREAM with ME, DO the FUNKY-HULA with ME.FUSE WITH ME!FUSE with ME, CRUISE with ME, BOOZE with ME, SNOOZE with ME. fuse with meBAKE a PUMPKIN PIE with ME, SING with ME, and SCREAM with ME,DO the FUNKY-HULA with ME. FUSE with ME!FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME! FUSE with ME!...fuse with me</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Catch the Flu with Me. Make Some News with Me. Walk the Plank with Me.Rob a Bank with Me. Put Your Saliva on Me. Rub Your Vagina on Me.Baby, fuse with me. Chase Girls with Me. Around the World with Me. Tie the Knot with Me. And Drop Out with Me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">You Can Abuse Me, But Stay True to Me. Baby, Fuse with Me. FUSE WITH ME! FUSE WITH ME!FUSE with ME, CRUISE with ME, SOOZE with ME, SNOOZE with ME. FUSE WITH ME!LAUGH with ME, CRY with ME, BAKE a PUMPKIN PIE with ME. FUSE WITH ME!SING with ME , SCREAM with ME, DO the FUNKY-HULA with ME.fuse with me. FUSE WITH ME!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">You Can Abuse Me, But Stay True to Me. Baby, Fuse with Me. You Can Abuse Me, But Stay True to Me. Baby, Fuse with me. Baby, Fuse with Me. Fuse with me. Fuse with me. Baby, Fuse with me.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-111818405184874951?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1117495268290271092005-05-30T15:08:00.000-07:002006-01-15T09:27:59.546-08:00<span style="font-size:130%;">all Ithaka (aka Darin Pappas, aka Korvorowng) lyrics</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">published by Ravenshark Music-ASCAP</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">(administered by Memory Lane Music Group-NY)</span><br /><a href="http://www.ithaka.cc">www.ithaka.cc</a> , <a href="mailto:sweatlodgerecords@hotmail.com">sweatlodgerecords@hotmail.com</a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">1. THE BUM WITH BLUE BLOOD</span><br />lyrics by Ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />I’m just a bum with blue blood who knows no shame<br />I ain’t got a dime ... but at least I got my name<br /><br />Pops from the Bronx ... Moms from Chattanooga<br />I was more than they bargained ... I was accidental junior<br /><br />But the blood of Kings flows from both sides<br />Ithaka and Edinburg ... but all of them have died<br /><br />My kin lost their crowns eons ago<br />Trees must lose their leaves in order to grow<br /><br />No, where you come from don’t matter none<br />It’s what you won’t do ... and what you haven’t done.<br /><br />Don’t know where I’m going to<br />Ain’t got no idea what I’m gonna do<br /><br />I got no purpose in life<br />When should I agree? When should I fight?<br /><br />I wander around in search of nothing<br />Never knowing what the future will bring<br /><br />Walking down the road with no goal in my mind<br />Don’t know who I will meet ... or what I will find<br /><br />Have I lost my life? Or am I just blind?<br />Have I wasted my youth? Am I just killing time?<br /><br />Walking down the road with no shoes on my feet<br />Knowing I must learn what no teacher can teach<br /><br />I’M JUST A BUM WITH BLUE BLOOD ... WHO KNOWS NO SHAME<br />I AIN’T GOT A DIME ... BUT AT LEAST I GOT MY NAME<br /><br />Never looked within ... cuz, I’ve always looked out<br />Never knew nothing anyway ... so I had nothing to doubt<br /><br />But don’t examine me like a frog in disection<br />I ain’t exactly the picture of perfection<br /><br />Just being me, for what it is ... or what it ain’t<br />I may not be the devil, but I sure ain’t no saint<br /><br />Don’t try to help others ... haven’t learned to help myself<br />Yeah, I’m flat broke ... but thanks to Zeus still got my health<br /><br />There are no guarantees in life<br />But you can’t say ... that I didn’t try to try.<br /><br />And now I’m right back where I started from<br />Lost, tired and busted ... least I’m a royal bum.<br /><br />It’s OK to be broke when you are nineteen or twenty<br />Didn’t worry so much ... when living in the land of plenty<br /><br />But when you’re Three-0<br />And still ain’t got no dough<br /><br />It’s time to reassess the situation<br />Before you live your whole life in frustration<br /><br />When I was young ... thought I just needed love.<br />But when your stomach’s empty, food don’t fall from above<br /><br />It’s better to be wise than rich<br />But better yet to be well not sick<br /><br />I was a prisioner ... I made myself free<br />But now I’ve fucked up ... and I’m a prisioner again<br /><br />All fucked up with no where to go<br />I don’t own a jacket ... and it’s getting kinda cold<br /><br />I’M JUST A BUM WITH BLUE BLOOD ... WHO KNOWS NO SHAME<br />I AIN’T GOT A DIME ... BUT AT LEAST I GOT MY NAME<br /><br />They say knowledge is truth ... and truth is knowledge<br />But I didn’t learn nothing truthful in my three weeks at college<br /><br />Thought I didn’t need no glasses to see<br />Thought I didn’t need no knowledge to be free.<br /><br />I exchanged hardship for understanding<br />Still don’t understand ... I’m headed for a crashlanding<br /><br />More shit I know ... more I know, I DON’T KNOW SHIT<br />Been walking most of my life ... don’t know where to sit<br /><br />But don’t tell me what I am or what I will become<br />Cuz, I know what I am ... I’m a royal bum<br /><br />Don’t know where I’m going to<br />Ain’t got no idea what I’m going to do<br /><br />I got no purpose in life<br />When should I agree? When should I fight?<br /><br />I wander around in search of nothing<br />Never knowing what the future will bring<br /><br />Walking down the road with no goal in my mind<br />Don’t know who I will meet ... or what I will find<br /><br />Have I lost my life? ... or am I just blind?<br />Have I wasted my youth? ... Am I just killing time?<br /><br />Walking down the road ... with no shoes on my feet<br />Knowing I must learn what no teacher can teach<br /><br />I’M JUST A BUM WITH BLUE BLOOD ... WHO KNOWS NO SHAME<br />I AIN’T GOT A DIME ... BUT AT LEAST I GOT MY NAME<br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">2. SUBSTANCE-FREE EXHILE</span><br />lyrics by Ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />Scratch-hop-drop caaaarrrrvvvve off the bottom<br />Then snapback in the butter/finger pocket<br /><br />Slide on in to the liquid-cave<br />and if you got luck ... you may just escape<br /><br />Take the line drive<br />Gotta take the high-line<br /><br />To get the speed<br />the speed that you need<br /><br />Through the section ... sling-slang rubberband<br />leave a liquid trail ... leave a liquid fan<br /><br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />THE SPEED THAT YOU NEED<br /><br />The number-one substance-free exhile<br />glide fifty-yards or glide a mile<br /><br />Give me frieght-train rights<br />give me grindy-hollow lefts<br /><br />give me rocks, give me reefs<br />give me the steep peaks<br /><br />Give me smalls, give me talls<br />Give’em to me all<br /><br />Except for the closed-outs<br />Cuz when it’s closed-out ... don’t paddle out<br /><br />Rather kick it shoreside<br />Eating icecreams ... eating cherry pies<br /><br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />THE SPEED THAT YOU NEED<br /><br />And maybe if I’m feeling inspired<br />I’ll sculpt or scribe ... or even change your tire<br /><br />Gotta alotta loves in this life<br />But one’s extra special ... she makes me feel right<br /><br />She’s real curvy and she’s always wet<br />She never talks back ... or messes with my head<br /><br />And when I’m feeling that need of needs<br />She gives it up to me ... she gives me speed<br /><br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />GOTTA GET THE SPEED<br />THE SPEED THAT YOU NEED<br /><br />_________________________________________________________________-<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">3.THE PLOT</span><br />lyrics by Ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />Under a tree,<br />Out of the SUN,<br />A place to rest from a world far gone.<br /><br />Happiness comes to those that wait,<br />Don’t take your own,<br />Or your’s you won’t get.<br />Dividing the goods,<br />Not like Christmas at all,<br />More like a garage sale of the dead.<br /><br />More forms than tax time,<br />More certificates than tying the knot,<br />More “how ya doings” than you ever get,<br />More “I’m sorry’s” than you’d ever want.<br /><br />Under a tree,<br />Out of the sun,<br />A place to rest from a world far gone.<br /><br />Maybe “better off”,<br />Is the way to put it,<br />Free from the binds,<br />That’d hold down a giant.<br /><br />Under a tree,<br />Having some fun<br />Away from the hate,<br />Of a world far gone.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">additional vocals by Mimi (portugal)</span><br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">4. EDEN BY THE SEA</span><br />lyrics by Ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />Once while sleeping sad / with a dome full of confusion<br />a honey bee named mwanamisi gave me a new solution<br /><br />she flew straight into my ear she said into my brain<br />and said “Korvorão let’s get going our magic carpet is waiting”<br /><br />What do you mean? Where can we go<br />cuz as usual .... I’m flat broke ....<br /><br />We go to a place called Eden by the sea<br />where life is sweet and everyone is free<br />where all is love ... and everyone is free<br /><br />so come on, meu irmão Korvorão you worn out ravenshark<br />get yourself up ... up yourself from out of the dark<br /><br />sharpen up your fins ... and shake out your wings<br />a big smile is all you need to bring<br /><br />don’t need no money don’t need no style<br />don’t worry ‘bout a thing and you will go a long while<br /><br />can’t get there by a boat can’t get there by a plane<br />except with the private plane of your brain<br /><br />don’t need no belief in Adam and Eve<br />but belief in the garden that is your key<br /><br />you can do anything<br />or you can do nothing<br /><br />there you will never feel cold<br />(there you will never feel old)<br /><br />give me sweet life ...<br />give me sweet life ...give me Eden by the sea<br />where life is sweet and everyone is free<br />where all is love ... and everyone is free<br />give me sweet life ...let me be free<br /><br />hey mwanamisi what are we waiting for?<br />You already convinced me ... no need to say more<br /><br />so off we went on a piece of blue rug<br />whacked-out ravenshark ... and sister bee bug<br /><br />out to space ... another galaxy<br />destination known ... Eden by the sea<br /><br />I call her a place ... but she is more like a lover<br />sometimes like a sister ... sometimes like a mother<br /><br />she’s accidental poetry<br />she’s the one can make me happy<br /><br />when we first met - almost took my life<br />almost drowned me ... while I tried to ride<br /><br />but no I wasn’t mad at her<br />that’s when I began to love her<br /><br />a strong woman is good to find<br />love at first fall with my heart and my mind<br /><br />up on a cliff inside of a cave<br />in her sea inside of a wave<br /><br />in the shade of a mango tree<br />hanging in the garden with mwanamisi<br /><br />give me sweet life let me be free<br />give me sweet life give me Eden by the sea<br /><br />where life is sweet and everyone is free<br />where all is love and everyone is free<br />give me sweet life let me be free<br /><br />my alarm went off ... my peace left my head<br />when my eyes opened I was in my old bed<br /><br />alone in my room ... no Eden in sight<br />could I have lived so much in one night?<br /><br />My heart hurt ... tears rained from my eyes<br />been a hundred years since the ravenshark cried<br /><br />now all on my mind is “how will I get back” ?<br />I know Eden exists I know she’s fact<br /><br />so mwanamisi .... wherever you may be<br />please take me back to Eden by the sea<br /><br />give me sweet life let me be free<br />give me sweet life give me Eden by the sea<br /><br />where life is sweet and everyone is free<br />where all is love and everyone is free<br /><br />give me sweet life let me be free<br />give me sweet life give me Eden by the sea<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">additional vocals by X-Sista (portugal)</span><br /><br />__________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">5. AIN’T NO BREEZE</span><br />lyrics byIthaka c. 1997<br /><br />I started on my life’s first break<br />when my own mamma said, “kid you’re a mistake”<br /><br />And it didn’t get better when I got older<br />my dreams got dimmer, my future got colder<br />In front of Jenny Parks, I maid myself a fool<br />in Kindergarden on my first day of school<br /><br />I asked the girl/goddess-if I could hold her hand<br />And she shot me in the eye --- with a loaded rubber band<br /><br />In first grade fell in love with my teacher Miss Mead<br />stayed after school to say teach me to read ?<br /><br />“Yes of course”, she said<br />and patted me on the head<br /><br />“what does this say ?” (I asked) pointing to my book<br />when she leaned down to help I couldn’t help but Look<br />Big round beautiful grade teacher breasts<br />got a slap across my face (I) failed my next test<br /><br />A few years later at the age of ten<br />was fishing with my Pops and and my old man, (and he pushed me in)<br /><br />down I sank to the bottom of the sea<br />When a whale swimming-by pissed on me<br /><br />Came back to land as a ghost to see my dog<br />But he growled when he saw me cuz now I’m made of fog<br /><br />Then I walked down the hall to see my brother Roy<br />Little punk was in my room already playing with my toys<br /><br />left the house went down the street<br />to see my little darling (little) sweet Marguerite<br /><br />She was watching TV with a grin on her face<br />I said, hi but when she saw me she said, you’re a disgrace<br /><br />What’s the idea of coming around and trying to scare<br />Don’t you belong with a harp somewhere<br /><br />I’m ten year old ghost<br />with a case of blues<br />Don’t like being dead<br />cuz I got nothing due<br /><br />So enough of earth no, they didn’t want me none<br />So I began to fly to the heavens high above<br /><br />But when I got there They wouldn’t let me in<br />They said, “this isn’t the place for little boys who sin”<br /><br />So down I went through the depths to hell<br />But they said, “You’re to young here you can not dwell”<br /><br />Where to now ? Don’t know what to do<br />Just a ten year-old ghost with a bad case of blues<br /><br />I’m ten year old ghost<br />with a case of blues<br />Don’t like being dead<br />cuz I got nothing due<br /><br />Walked down to Alentejo - no where else to go<br />And saw a pet cemetery on a cliff above the shore<br /><br />Dead birds, dead cats, and a crying old lady<br />crying her eyes out over a dead canary<br /><br />“Now I have no one in this world to be my friend<br />Why go on living - never be happy again”<br /><br />“Don’t cry”, I said, “lady I’m all alone too<br />I’ll be your friend and I promise never to say BOO”<br /><br />And so I was adopted by Dona Conceição<br />Now I’m her ghost grandson - little Korovorowng<br /><br />Now together we reside at a house in a tree<br />we bake and eat lots of cookies and we drink lots of tea<br /><br />she teaches me things - she tells me stories<br />now life after death is fun cuz she adores me<br /><br />A ten-year old ghost<br />no longer feeling blue<br />Don’t mind being dead<br />now I got lots to do.<br />____________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">6. BUTTERFLY OF WISDOM</span><br />lyrics by ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />All alone without thoughts at my old blue desk<br />alone on easter sunday ... my brokeness (still) a pest<br /><br />am I my own man? ... or just a puppet on a string?<br />do I turn my own board? ... or wait for fate to bring?<br /><br />Whatever. Whatever. Whatever will be<br />believe that and you're a sucker you may never see the key<br /><br />preachers, teachers abusers of religion<br />everyone claiming to see the only vision<br /><br />prophecies sprouting up like weeds<br />don't believe'em none ... the truth grows like a tree<br /><br />when I ask others where am I headed?<br />they tell me ask the planets ... ask the stars<br /><br />but is the fate of another sucker mine<br />because of the tilt of Mars?<br /><br />maybe it is. Maybe it ain't<br />but what about the flowers and the color of paint?<br /><br />do you become what you think about most?<br />to be or not to be? ... or to be an almost?<br /><br />do the gods help those who help themselves?<br />or should I store my juice up on a mental shelf?<br /><br />am I my own man? ... or just a puppet on a string?<br />do I turn my own board? or wait for fate to bring?<br /><br />came out of my apartment at the street door<br />looked back up to my window on the second floor<br /><br />got a planter-box of flowers ... got some purple, got some blue<br />when into my pretty picture ... a white butterfly flew<br /><br />bouncing alone she went ... it seemed without direction<br />bouncing alone she went ... she was the vision of perfection<br /><br />am I my own man? ... or just a puppet on a string?<br />do I turn my own board? or wait for fate to bring?<br /><br />so I followed that little butterfly of wisdom<br />down the dusty streets of the city of Lisbon<br /><br />and somewhere down near Alcantara-Mar<br />she stopped for a moment on the hood of a car<br /><br />then she landed on an average street sign<br />and for that brief second ... that sign was like a shrine<br /><br />then the butterfly landed on a small girl<br />who was still young enough to wonder at the world<br /><br />she landed on a wooden fence<br />but on the fence, it appeared, she landed only to rest<br /><br />she landed on the head of a statue<br />then flew off ... into the forest of monsanto<br /><br />bouncing alone she went ... it seemed without direction<br />bouncing alone she went ... she was the vision of perfection<br /><br />am I my own man? ... or just a puppet on a string?<br />do I turn my own board? or wait for fate to bring?<br /><br />through the pine trees ... the way the winds blow<br />alonside of a crow ... to a quite meadow<br /><br />finally she landed on a lonely yellow flower<br />then suddenly took off with a fresh burst of power<br /><br />what a long way, (I thought), just to get a little snack<br />but she hadn't just been searching for a flower she lacked<br /><br />she'd been blessing the hood with her awkward grace<br />and then she blessed my nose, by landing on my face<br /><br />giving back to the world, that gave her sweet life<br />even if her sole purpose was to be a lovely sight<br /><br />and off she flew ... above the trees, to the sky<br />and I could swear I heard a little voice wish me "goodbye"<br /><br />I walked all the way back home wearing a grin<br />finally knowing life means nothing-and-everythin'<br /><br />bouncing alone she went ... it seemed without direction<br />bouncing alone she went ... she was the vision of perfection<br /><br />am I my own man? ... or just a puppet on a string?<br />do I turn my own board? or wait for fate to bring?<br /><br />____________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">7. SEABRA IS MAD</span><br />lyrics ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />Seabra is the name of the rider<br />Who will wait for hours for an outsider<br /><br />We made a trip in the middle of the winter<br />We rode a place that left my stick a splinter<br /><br />The kind of walls that block out the sky<br />Underwater out of breath I saw my life flash by<br /><br />Then Seabra got axed by a big mack set<br />It was bigger than a house it was bigger than the debt<br /><br />Held down for about an hour<br />He took the brunt of the big mack’s power<br /><br />Most would split after a fall like that<br />But like a rubber bat ... Seabra swung back<br /><br />Straight back to the peak<br />Just like a junkie, he’s a big wave freak<br /><br />CITY SOCIETY CALLS HIM A STRANGER<br />CUZ, SEABRA CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT THE DANGER<br />BUT I JUST CALL SEABRA MAD<br />BALLS OF STEEL THE RIDER IS BAD<br />SEABRA IS MAD SEABRA IS MAD<br /><br />It was there at M. where he broke the berry<br />A gloomy five meters to most would be scary<br /><br />But Seabra on his featherlight foil<br />He paddled straight out and sat on the boil<br /><br />And when he dug his hands in deep<br />Slowly but slowly he began to creep<br /><br />And speeded up to a glide<br />Dropped down verticle ... Seabra was inside<br /><br />Of a big fat cave ... but not of stone<br />This cave spun and was chased by foam<br /><br />Got blasted out with his mug still dry<br />And that’s when Seabra began to fly<br /><br />Through three more sections and to the shoulder<br />Then a fat roundhouse around a boulder<br /><br />CITY SOCIETY CALLS HIM A STRANGER<br />CUZ, SEABRA CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT THE DANGER<br />BUT I JUST CALL SEABRA MAD<br />BALLS OF STEEL THE RIDER IS BAD<br />SEABRA IS MAD SEABRA IS MAD<br /><br />There was a day at a place we call Bruxas<br />Lots of big holes ... the reef was crucial<br /><br />It was getting night ... time for us to exit<br />but the current was a river, no it just wouldn’t let us.<br /><br />Valente, Seabra, me ... it was the three of us<br />With bone-crushing pounders was our heads gonna bust?<br /><br />One way to find out was Seabra’s thinking<br />Dropped into a pit without even blinking<br /><br />Getting broken bones was better than drowning<br />Got raked over rocks ... received quite a pounding<br /><br />But mad-mad Seabra made it to land<br />With no broken bones and no broken head<br /><br />So Valente and me ... we followed Senhor Psyco<br />Out of death’s pit with only damage to our egos<br /><br />indirect-like, he’d saved our skins<br />We lived to tell our story and sin more sins<br /><br />CITY SOCIETY CALLS HIM A STRANGER<br />CUZ, SEABRA CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT THE DANGER<br />BUT I JUST CALL SEABRA MAD<br />BALLS OF STEEL THE RIDER IS BAD<br />SEABRA IS MAD SEABRA IS MAD<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">________________________________________________________________</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">8.STAY STRONG LITTLE BROTHER</span><br />lyrics by ithaka c.1997<br /><br />Over here, on this side of the pool<br />what am I to think, what am I to do?<br /><br />Been hearing bad news about my little brother<br />no, not my blood brother --- But he’s still my little brother<br /><br />ten calls this week from the concerned<br />been learning many things that I didn’t want to learn<br /><br />the story is an old one, no it ain’t new<br />but every time I hear it it leaves a cloud of doom<br /><br />and this time it’s worse, cuz I love the life at stake<br />so brother quit the pin before it’s too late<br /><br />stay strong little brother<br />cuz you are loved little brother<br /><br />as the new kid around, little bro you had it all<br />brains. Motivation. And calls from keely small<br /><br />and you could slice a wall, with a blade of glass<br />with a smooth new style, that was loose and fast<br /><br />at the rivermouth, back in winter ’85<br />you and T.C., you was the only ones to ride<br /><br />and wall for wall, you matched his best<br />“KLING”, you STRING-BEAN ... you put him to the test<br /><br />Rider of the year, but never saw you in no mag<br />or in a contest heat, with a color on your back<br /><br />don’t throw the gift away, with the light of a match<br />don’t throw the gift away, with the stick of a pin<br /><br />stay strong little brother<br />cuz, you are loved little brother<br /><br />fresh out of V.H.S., (YOU) sarted working on the features<br />junior editor with the alpine speakers<br /><br />you was bold, had the humor and the girls all over you<br />you had the ride, the pad ......IQ, 182<br /><br />but somewhere down the line, you got off your course<br />by that old dark ugly evil force<br /><br />stay strong little brother<br />cuz, you are loved little brother<br /><br />all sorts of poisens, flowing through your veins<br />some say you’re crazy, they say you ain’t the same<br /><br />but bro, I know you for at least fifteen years<br />and though I share many of their fears<br /><br />I know deep in your soul, you’re still the kling<br />and I’ll always be there for you, if you need a hand or wing<br /><br />stay strong little brother<br />cuz, you are loved little brother<br /><br />talls, red room, and the six of clubs<br />it’s the places, it’s the people ... and little brother it’s the drugs<br /><br />so come clean, start yourself off new<br />drop the dope and the bottle ... and the dope and the bottle crew<br /><br />maybe the end of the earth is upon us<br />but maybe it ain’t and we won’t turn to dust<br /><br />if that’s the case, wanna live a long time<br />little brother won’t you join us, got to make up your mind<br /><br />stay strong little brother<br />cuz, you are loved little brother<br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br />female vocals by: Josette</span><br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">9.CAPRICORN AND CANCER</span><br />lyrics by ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />I hate you and you hate me<br />we hate eachother --- on that we agree<br />hate or love --- love or hate<br />hate will prevail ... I think it’s our fate<br /><br />Sorry once again ... to dig up the past<br />But we started up the engine ... much to fast<br /><br />Always best ..... to warm it up (a little) first<br /><br />But was thirsty - and needed to quench our thirst<br />You were like a tornado ... I was like a typhoon<br />So very close ... yet as far as the moon<br /><br />Should have seen trouble from a mile away<br />Cuz, you said something to me on our second day<br /><br />That made me question ... me, myself and I<br />Like, where does my piece ... fit into life’s pie<br /><br />I doubted my purpose ... I doubted my vision<br />I doubted my glide ... which is my life´s religion<br /><br />Why’d you wanna make me feel like that ?<br />Why’d you wanna make me feel like a rat ?<br /><br />Did I really say those things ... that you say that I said ?<br />Did I really do all those things ... which you dread ?<br />And if I did, you should’ve left ... yes you should’ve fled<br />But neither of us like sleeping ... in na empty crib<br /><br />Was it love ? ... or was it lovesickness ?<br />was it love ? ... or was it our weakness ?<br /><br />You love me - and you hate me too<br />I need you ... and I need to be free of you<br /><br />Took you home to my planet, ... a place called L.A.<br />We argued all the time ... cuz all you did was complain<br /><br />You didn’t like the trafic ... you didn’t like the smog<br />You did’nt like my friends ... and you said it’s TOO hot<br /><br />(You) wanted to go out ... (I) took you to the SIX OF CLUBS<br />But you didn’t like the drinks ... and you hated the sight of blood<br /><br />But I didn’t write that book ... L.A. CITY did<br />Some people smile ... and others get dead<br /><br />I hate you and you hate me<br />we hate eachother --- on that we agree<br />hate or love --- love or hate<br />hate will prevail ... I think it’s our fate<br /><br />Took you to Mexico ... no you couldn’t enjoy<br />Yet another trip ... we should’ve tried to avoid<br /><br />Too MUCH DUST ... and you don’t like burritos<br />TOO MANY CHIKENS ... and too many mosquitos<br /><br />Like water to acid ... no we just don’t mix<br />And somethings in life ... you just can’t fix<br /><br />Was it love ? ... or was it lovesickness ?<br />was it love ? ... or was it our weakness ?<br /><br />You are the realist<br />I’m the idealist<br /><br />The Capricorn ... the Cancer<br />The hammer and the basher<br /><br />WHY you wanna make me feel like a crumb<br />WHY you wanna make me feel ... like a bum<br /><br />I didn’t know the answer ... you called me ignorant<br />I said, who cares ? ... and called you arrogant<br /><br />IGNORANT ARROGANT<br />ARROGANT IGNORANT<br />IGNORANT ARROGANT<br /><br />But baby ... ignorance is no sin<br />And IT don’t determine ... if you loose or win<br /><br />Be intelligent, but DON’T be so cold<br />Cuz, a brain ain’t worth shit ... without a heart and a soul<br /><br />was it love ? ... or was it our weakness ?<br />Was it love ? ... or was it lovesickness ?<br /><br />Are we together ? ... or are we not ?<br />Maybe we should’ve called the whole thing off ?<br /><br />But we never said it WASN’T ... or that it WAS<br />But love and hate-kept-coming back ... like rust<br /><br />We been living this way ... for over a year<br />And I’m tired of the fights ... and the tears, dear<br /><br />Some people ... just ain’t meant to be together<br />Never nice day ... always stormy weather<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">additional vocals by X-Sista (portugal)</span><br /><br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">10. KING OF TARDY</span><br />lyrics by ithaka c. 1997<br />(inspired by Craig Dahl, laziest bastard of all time)<br /><br />MY NAME IS C.R.D.,<br />I’m the King of Tardy.<br />If I said,<br />“Be there by eight”<br />You never really know when,<br />You’ll be lucky<br />If I make it by ten,<br />Cuz,<br />I gotta shower,<br />Shave,<br />Put on a tune.<br />If I said ten a.m., I’ll try and make it by noon.<br />I’m the flakiest cat you ever did meet,<br />Just can’t seem to get fast upon my feet.<br />Two hours late is early for me,<br />Like to take my time,<br />Dress to the Tee.<br />I’ll make you late if you’re coming along,<br />So just kick back, have a beer and a song.<br />If there’s a swell on the sea,<br />Don’t count on me.<br />Can’t think of time, as I jam down the line.<br />Don’t even dream ‘bout holding your breath,<br />By the time I get outta the water, you’ll be starving to death.<br /><br />It’s taken me a lifetime<br />To earn this title,<br />Cuz,<br />Sleeping in,<br />For me,<br />Is extremely vital.<br />So,<br />If you need to be on time,<br />Don’t count on me,<br />it ain't for nothing<br />I'm the king of Tardy<br /><br />______________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">12. Sonny The Bunny</span><br />lyrics by ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />I was at a night club just the other night,<br />The music was O.K., but something wasn’t right.<br />A bunch of guys dressed up like bunnies,<br />Some thought it was cute-but I didn’t think it was wery funny.<br />Bunnies hopping around just like Roger the rabbit,<br />I hope this strange behavior doesn’t become a habit.<br />Cuz I prefer rabbits in a cage or at the zoo,<br />or maybe in aunt ida’s rabbit soup or rabbit stew.<br />but on second thought,<br />rabbits are fun to kick<br />With your foot in a boot or with a stick.<br />Sunny the bunny wasn’t funny,<br />His little pink nose was looking kind of runny.<br />Si I gave Sunny a hanky,<br />but after I kicked him he became cranky.<br />I said-save that drama for your mama you little mama’s hare<br />And close your fucking eyes, it ain´t polite to stare !<br />Sunny continued to cry in the corner,<br />Looking like a little, fluffy-white funeral mourner.<br />Don’t cry- I told Sunny, then I gave him some carrots,<br />But soon after that I fed him to the parrots.<br /><br />NO MORE SUNNY THE BUNNY !<br /><br />Tricks are for kids you<br />stupid rabbit<br /><br />_______________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">12. SUSHI-PACK SUBWAY</span><br />lyrics by ithaka c. 1997 (inspired by Tokyo metro system)<br /><br />YOYOGI-UEHARA<br />YOYOGI-KOEN<br />MEJI-JINGUMAE<br />OMOTESANDO<br />NOGIZAKA<br />AKA-SAKA<br />RAPPONGI<br />AWA-KAMOGOWA<br />KATESE-ENOSHIMA<br />HIGASHI-GINZA<br />NAKAMEGURO<br />EBISU and HIROO<br />No, I don’t wanna go to that hell-hole, KYODO.<br />HATAGAYA<br />SENDAGAYA<br />SHINJUKU<br />SHINEGAWA<br />Get me off this Sushi-Pack<br />Cuz, I wanna go back<br /><br />HOME ... to, YOYOGI-UEHARA<br /><br />_______________________________________________________________<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">13. ALABAMA CAVE PARTY</span></strong><br />lyrics by ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />With my brother Drew / once we took a trip together<br />down to Alabama to see our crazy cousin Devin<br /><br />tell me, have you ever been down to Alabama ?<br />they have a lot of fun / they got great manners<br /><br />our cousin Devin / I wish you could meet him<br />he’s six-foot four / (weighs) a hundred kilos<br /><br />you boys are from California, yeah ?<br />only two things come from California<br />earthquakes and worms ................<br />and I don’t feel the ground shaking<br />none..........<br /><br />during the day he’s sorta normal / no you’d never doubt<br />but in the depths of the night / he always sneaks out<br /><br />to jump off bridges a hundred feet high<br />into dark rivers /(don’t fucking ask us why)<br /><br />he likes to climb / huntsville-fm tower<br />five-hundred meters high / it takes him four hours<br /><br />two hours up / like a monkey / to the top<br />two hours down / then chased by the cops<br /><br />somenights he’s out / on the swamp in a boat<br />killing bull-frogs /with deadly spear pokes<br /><br />and by dawn has a boat / full of dead frogs<br />mid-morning all sold / to local restaurants<br /><br />a week in Alabama with our crazy cousin Devin<br />he lives life-loco twenty-four seven<br /><br />on the weekend / the real action start<br />he put a bomb in a mailbox and blew it apart<br /><br />then down to a place by the lake<br />where with his bare hands / he ripped the head of a snake<br /><br />next was a dare Devin had for me<br />take this stick and hit that hive of bees<br /><br />what the hell was this ... some strange deranged plot<br />what, are you fucking crazy man ? ... that’d piss’em off<br /><br />no fucking shit genius ... that’s the whole idea<br />hit’em and run to the lake / before they sting-ya<br /><br />we do it all the time cali-worm<br />and there’s no backing out / cuz, now it’s your turn<br /><br />so I hit it and ran / all the way to the water<br />dove in head first / don’t know why I bothered<br /><br />cuz, these bees were smart / mothefuckers and could swim<br />stung me through my clothes / and cleea to my skin<br /><br />a week in Alabama with our crazy cousin Devin<br />he lives life-loco twenty-four seven<br /><br />that night Devin promised us a big surprise<br />Alabama, original / never one to lie<br /><br />in his sixty-four chevy / we drove out to the woods<br />this will give you cali-worms a taste of the ‘hood<br /><br />parked the truck between a couple a trees<br />there was other cars / but nobody to be seen<br /><br />we climbed over a barbed-wire fence<br />(both Drew and) mine’s head was a filling with suspense<br /><br />with a full-moon coming down through the leaves ...<br />we walked ½ a mile / next to a creek ...<br /><br />then up a hill / and in front of ous sight<br />was the mouth of a cave / sixty-feet high<br /><br />into-the-mouth-of-the-monster we went<br />along a narrow ledge / above a man-eating pit<br /><br />guided by the light of Drew’s watch<br />which for forty-five minutes / we was glad he had bought<br /><br />through a lot of tunnels / a mile into the mountain<br />just to be killed / (of that we was certain)<br /><br />come on caliworms there’s nothing to be afraid of<br />except fear itself<br /><br />we began to hear laughter and shouts<br />what the hell was this all about<br /><br />then we was there / in a giant round room<br />ninety-feet high / by one hundred feet of doom<br /><br />with people all around a big fire<br />and above / a thousand bat-vamp-pires<br /><br />there was a little black dog / barking up at the bats<br />I had to laugh - becuz a funny sight was that<br /><br />others gathered ‘round a moonshine still<br />filling up jars with a liquid that could kill<br /><br />then Devin gave us jars / of the smelly stinking mash<br />drink-up caliworms / and enjoy it while it lasts<br /><br />did we have a choice ? no it wasn’t a suggestion<br />but would we survive ? / now that was the question<br /><br />down it went / like an acid it burned<br />and Devin asked us / how-is-it-caliworms ?<br /><br />“smooth”, we lied / by-the-way,-what is it ?<br />GASOLINE, he laughed / just like-an-evil-wizard<br /><br />gasoline, alcohol / and crushed lightning bugs<br />we call it lightning juice / here have another slug<br /><br />a week in Alabama with our crazy cousin Devin<br />he lives life-loco twenty-four seven<br /><br />an angelic-girl / with dark skin and red hair<br />sat all alone / at the edge of the lair<br /><br />the room began tilting to one side<br />I was surprised that the girl did not slide<br /><br />I closed my eyes / to try and stop the tilt<br />opened them again / it was at a standstill<br /><br />the angel-girl now chased the dog-black<br />who was (running around) / barking up the bats<br /><br />the room began spinning / and I closed my eyes again<br />and when I opened’em up / and looked around the den<br /><br />the girl now craddled / the gog like a baby<br />they was rubbing faces (like) the tramp and the lady<br /><br />then the dog / began / to lick her face<br />she licked him back / she tightned her embrace<br /><br />and the next thing I knew / they was swapping spit<br />a beauty and beast / freaky-french (wet) kiss<br /><br />then the dog / ran off / to chase the bats<br />while the zombies / were still gathering / around the vat<br /><br />and I said / to miss.angel / red-head<br />I see that you / made / a brand-new-friend<br /><br />what do you mean ? / she said, I mean the dog<br />that wasn’t no dog (she said) / that was god<br /><br />that’s when I must’ve passed-out<br />into a deep sleep / into a dream-cloud<br /><br />when I woke up / everyone was asleep<br />even the bats / were without a peep<br /><br /><br />... and I was sharing a blanket<br />with (both) the girl who had been / kissing the dog<br />and the dog who she’d been kissing<br />Drew and Devin weren’t around / my kin was amissing<br /><br />what time is it? what time is it ? what time is it on earth ?<br />time for a headache / not a pleasant birth<br /><br />so I grabbed a guide stick / from out of the fire<br />looked back once more at the angel I’d admired<br /><br />and followed the footprints on the cave’s floor<br />for forty-five minutes to the cave’s door<br /><br />and out into the afternoon sun<br />wondering whether or not / I’d had fun<br /><br />nuclear rays / down upon my dome they beat<br />my forehead feeling like a craked wheat<br /><br />and there by the creek / was my brother Drew<br />cousin Devin nearby / sipping on a brew<br /><br />hey, I said<br />what’s the idea / leaving me with all them freaks<br />while ya’ll are out here / relaxing by the creek<br /><br />... shut up and show some respect you little insect<br />or I’ll put a hook through your head and catch a fish with you<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">additional vocals by ACE (portugal)</span><br />___________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">14. THE RISE AND FALL OF A FORTUNE</span><br />lyrics by Darin Pappas 1997<br /><br />HUNGER<br /><br />What began as an embryonic seed of desire<br />To have a better life for himself,<br />Grew into a small tree of desire<br />which grew into an entire forest ....... of what?<br /><br />By this time,<br />He’d forgotten why he’d wanted the money in the first place,<br />He became obsessed with the getting itself.<br /><br />GREED<br /><br />Greed, a common disease<br />Suffered by billions of beings around the cosmos.<br />Once the momentum of greed was in full swing,<br />It was impossible to stop.<br />Like a drug, he needed more and more and more.<br /><br />It became a way of life.<br /><br />LOSS<br /><br />The day the stock market crashed he lost all of it ... everything.<br />After being in a state of shock for several weeks,<br />He finally came to his senses;<br />It’s not the end of the world, he reasoned.<br />I still have my family and my friends,<br />(but they didn’t know him anymore)<br /><br />Well, I still have the gifts of the gods,<br />the flowers, the trees and the sea.<br />But they had long since turned their backs<br />on the one who had turned his back on them.<br /><br />He tried to read a book, to take his mind off things,<br />But discovered that he’d forgotten how to read.<br />So he called and met with a prostitute<br />and discovered that he’d even forgotten how to ... (fuck)<br /><br />He went home to his soon-to-be-repossesed<br />twenty-million dollar mansion.<br />And laid down on his soon-to-be-repossesed<br />two-hundred thousand dollar golden bathroom floor.<br />He began to hear voices,<br />It was his father speaking from the grave,<br />(Actually it was the memory of a conversation<br />he’d had with his father when he was nine),...<br /><br />He’d said,<br />Son, beware of the seed of greed<br />It’s better to be wise than rich.<br />Why?, he’d asked but his father didn’t answer,<br /><br />At the age of thirteen,<br />He started his own landscaping business.<br />SERVICE WITH A SMILE was his slogan,<br />but he never smiled.<br /><br />At the age of nineteen,<br />He sold the business to a competitor<br />And began a record company<br />Producing some of the most meaningless music in history.<br />But he didn’t care,<br />Meaningless music sold ... and sold it did.<br /><br />By the time he was twenty-six years old,<br />he was one of the richest young men in America.<br />So it was a shock to most people<br />when GRASS-CUTTER RECORDS suddenly went bankrupt.<br />All of the acts had conspired together<br />And signed with new record companies,<br />Companies that let them keep<br />At least some of the money that they made.<br /><br />He put his remaining assets into bonds and stocks.<br />Hoped for thr best,<br />Received the worst.<br /><br />His maid found him dead on the bathroom floor<br />And immediately called the 911.<br /><br />Two days later,<br />After na extensive examination of the corpse,<br />the coroners filed their report.<br /><br />CAUSE OF DEATH: SADNESS<br /><br />Nobody attended the funeral<br /><br />________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">15. SPIRITUAL GRAVEYARD</span><br />lyrics by ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />been gone four months from my neighborhood<br />then rolled back in, but things were less than good<br /><br />my roomate Ned been rolling on the cane train<br />selling and abusing-not using his brain<br /><br />now my home is under investigation<br />ain't got no solution to this situation<br /><br />but to leave it alone and walk away<br />and find a new space and for this I'm gonna pay<br /><br />with money I don't have none of<br />but got to deal with it-got to rise above<br /><br />more news I got something more to depress me<br />Madelena don't even wanna see me<br /><br />no girl no home no money ... what's this life come to<br />these aren't the dreams I'd wished to come true<br /><br />HERE I AM IN MY SPIRITUAL GRAVEYARD<br />NOBODY SEES ME FEELS ME OR HEARS ME<br /><br />LA seems so far and from this distance not so bad<br />but years ago I left to find the promissed land<br /><br />I had to get out so I found a way out<br /><br />so why am I right back where I started?<br />naive ignorant and unguarded<br /><br />against the poisens of my own mind<br />unsure about the past since the start of time<br /><br />about the future,<br />I can barely even comment<br />the rise and fall of political dominance?<br /><br />still it seems today it all comes down to the buck<br />you're a robber you're a crook or you're born with luck<br /><br />escaped to become a creator<br />so why have I become a critic?<br /><br />no wasn't my intention, but how could I've predicted it?<br /><br />HERE I AM IN MY SPIRITUAL GRAVEYARD<br />NOBODY SEES ME FEELS ME OR HEARS ME<br /><br />in my mind I still dream of my ithaka<br />but I don't know if I will ever find my ithaka<br /><br />cuz here I am in my spiritual graveyard<br />on September 27 ..... 1994<br /><br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">16.URSULA OF ITHAKA</span><br />lyrics by Ithaka c. 1997<br /><br />Eight years of bad luck, no end to see<br />didn't have no hope, only had one dream<br /><br />of a memory, I couldn't remember<br />so far in the past seemed like forever<br /><br />was alive, but didn't have no life<br />endless days-and-sleepless nights<br /><br />I'd found a place but needed a friend<br />needed repair, but had no tools to mend<br /><br />was late in August, summer of confusion<br />sleepwalking down my street, needing a transfusion<br /><br />barefooted talking to myself<br />my neighbors wondering about my mental health<br /><br />the street was full, but I was still alone<br />crowds of strangers make me feel without a home<br /><br />then something took my eyes up off of the ground<br />everyone was frozen - I couldn't hear a sound<br /><br />I beleive in love at sight, but I loved before I saw<br />her scent alone, made my frozen heart to thaw<br /><br />then she appeared floating like a cloud<br />I'd seen her before there was no doubt<br /><br />scrolls of brown hair. godess's complexion<br />hazel eyes. smile resurection<br /><br />I'm Ursula of Ithaka ... remember me?<br />we met in Cape Melissa 1200 B.C.<br /><br />she wrapped her arms around me, "we meet again at last<br />been searching for you for 20 decades past<br /><br />through Asia Africa the fifth dimension"<br />she felt so warm and human for an astral projection<br /><br />right here on my very own street<br />an oasis of love began to feel complete<br /><br />she was like a fresh summer rain<br />amnesia for twenty lives worth of pain<br /><br />we soaked each other with 2700 tears<br />for missing each other for 2700 years<br /><br />and there on the bairro alto street stones<br />we made love all night while the others stayed froze:<br /><br />we'd lived in the village of Melissa<br />she was a princess, and I was a fisher<br /><br />every night, smelling of fish blood<br />I dreamt of her love as I slept in the mud<br /><br />some nights she snuck out. She came to me<br />she was my human blanket the cure to my disease<br /><br />In the "cave of nympths" swore our love forever<br />til death and beyond, never to be severed<br /><br />but death was not far away from me<br />she cried ten years when I died at sea<br /><br />then forced to marry a rich tycoon<br />committed suicide on their honeymoon<br /><br />but there on the Bairro Alto street stones<br />we made love all night while the others stayed froze<br /><br />is she the dreamer or is she the illusion?<br />living deep inside the depths of my seclusion<br /><br />I don't know, just know what we share<br />a love eternal, my walking, living prayer.<br /><br />_________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />17. STELLAFLY <br />Written in 1993 by Ithaka, aka Darin Pappas<br />published as a short story in: SHORTCUT MAGAZINE (japan 1993)<br />LAVA MAGAZINE (usa 1994), REACTOR MAGAZINE (Portugal 1996)<br />And appeared as a spoken word song form <br />as the title track of the álbum, STELLAFY (nortesul-EMI Records 1997)<br />_____________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />She landed like a fly.<br />She left like a fly.<br /><br />The apartment across the hall had been vacant for six months, <br />then suddenly without warning became occupied.<br />She was from the east of Canada,<br />absolutely beautiful, brains too.<br />And I told myself at first sight, she’s trouble.<br />And she was,<br />more than I could possibly imagine.<br />A real fireball-motormouth type,<br />but I really liked that at first,<br />(I like talkative people).<br /><br />The third night she was there<br />we walked down to the New Beverly Cinema,<br />(which was actually an old revival house)<br />for a showing of Street Car Named Desire.<br />And from then on we began calling each other,<br />Stella and Stanley.<br /><br />Whenever I’d come back from a job or something<br />I’d yell up to her window,<br />SSTTELLLLLLAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />But more frequently than not,<br />It’d be her that was coming home from job and yelling <br />SSSSSTTTTTAAAANNNNNLLLLEEEEYYYY !!!!!!<br />She was working her little round ass off,<br />making about ten grand a week <br />as a human prop for fashion catalougues.<br />Didn’t even have a bank account when she first moved in.<br />What do you do with the money?, I asked her<br />Well I bought some CDs yesterday <br />and I got some clothes and.... I got this bag....<br /><br /><br />The girl spent money like an Arab.<br />And even with her income<br />was always borrowing from me for food and rent.<br /><br />One of her biggest expenses was táxi fares.<br />She didn’t own a car.<br />Refused to take the bus.<br />And back in those days LA didn’t have a subway.<br /><br />Up to five-hundred dollars a day for táxis.<br />To and from jobs.<br />To and from stores.<br />To and from the movies.<br />To and from the beach.<br />THE BEACH ?!<br />Who the fuck takes a cab from Hollywood to the beach?<br />RENT A CAR !!! I told her.<br />But she didn’t have a license.<br /><br />She eventually took all of my advice.<br />Opened a bank account.<br />Stopped buying so many CDs<br />Started buying used clothes.<br />And bought two cars<br />(still didn’t have a license),<br />a big Ford Bronco which she almost never drove<br />and an old convertible Mustang.<br /><br />SSSTTTTAAANNLLEEYYY !!!!!!!<br />She’d yell as she drove down the alley.<br />SSSSSTTTAAAAAANNNLLLEEYYYY !!!!!!!!!<br />She’d yell as she pulled into the driveway.<br />Then we’d make healthy, disgusting-tasting things to eat,<br />drink cheap wine and talk almost all night<br />on my big blue bed.<br /><br />But always in the middle of some deep conversation<br />she spring to her feet and say sisterly,<br />Goodnight Stan.<br />Goodnight Stella, I’d say.<br />Out my door she went <br />and into her own across the hall<br />where she would start making phone calls.<br /><br /><br />Sometimes I’d hear her talk on the phone<br />for two or three hours back home to Canada;<br />to her gingerbread family,<br />to her old friends...and to her old boyfriend.<br />You see, I was her only friend in LA<br />and the phone was one form of communication<br />she could not live without out<br />(her phone bill was easily four times more than her rent).<br /><br />But I loved this little girl.<br />Miss-nineteen-year-old-motor-mouth-know-it-all.<br />She loved me too,<br />but was afraid to admit it<br />for the simple reason I didn’t look good on paper.<br />No regular job.<br />Skin too dark.<br />Used too many fuck-words.<br />Unsuccessful as a photographer.<br />Unsuccessful as an artist.<br />Whatever would her gingerbread family back home think?<br />And her friends? And her old boyfriend?<br />Afterall, this whole charade of a life she lived<br />was strictly for them, just for effect.<br /><br />Many weeks in advance, we’d planned to go skydiving together,<br />but on the day we had reserved at the skydiving school<br />we got up at four-thirty a.m. <br />and drove all the way out to Paris, Califórnia<br />just to discover the wind was too strong <br />for any planes to go up.<br />She was absolutely heartbroken,<br />didn’t say a word the whole drive back.<br />What’s wrong, Stella ?<br />I dunno.<br /><br />The problem wasn’t <br />that her her long anticipated first jump<br />had been postoned.<br />It was that she’d already told everyone in Toronto<br />that she’d be jumping TODAY<br />And no doubt they’d be calling that night for a documentary.<br /><br /><br />What’ll I tell them? she said.<br />That you’re dead, I said.<br />THAT’S NOT FUNNY STAN !!<br /><br />One night not long after,<br />we’d gone to a big Hollywood Christmas party<br />and gotten completely wasted on mixed tropical drinks.<br />We took a cab home.<br />Then talked for a while on my bed.<br />She put her arms around me,<br />stabbed her tongue into my mouth<br />and climbed up on top of me.<br />She pulled out my dick through the zipper,<br />slipped it under her mini-skirt,<br />around her panties<br />into her unbelievably hot and tight wetness.<br /><br />She rode it.<br />Once up.<br />Once down<br />The must have remembered her loving family,<br />friends and old boyfriend back home in Toronto.<br />I can’t do this, <br />She said rolling off of me<br />standing up and pulling down her skirt simultaneously.<br />I CAN’T DO THIS !!!!<br /><br />She stormed out of my door and into her own.<br />She called somebody in Canada <br />and began telling them how exciting the party had been.<br />Eddie Murphy was there, I overheard her say.<br />He wasn’t, but there was a black guy tending bar,<br />(maybe they all looked the same to her).<br /><br />The best and worst fuck of my life.<br />The Best ,<br />because I loved that little bitch and had waited<br />five months for The Dip.<br />The Worst, <br />because of its four-second duration<br />and transformation <br />of a girl who talked, laughed and ate with me<br />and cared about me.<br />into one who only said,<br />Hi Stan.<br />Bye Stan.<br /><br />The next weekend I went up to Ventura County.<br />When I got home Sunday night she was gone.<br />No note. Nothing.<br />Her apartment was unlocked.<br />Vacant. No furniture. Nothing.<br />Everything was gone except for the cars<br />which she’d left across the street<br />in the Post Office parking lot.<br /><br />The Bronco was stolen the third night.<br />The Mustang was towed by the city<br />about a week after that.<br /><br />In like a fly.<br />Out like a fly.<br /><br />She’d mixed up my head.<br />She’d driven a fork right through my fucking heart.<br />She’d nibbled and chewed<br />all of the self-confidence from my bonés<br />.....and still ...still had the nerve to call<br />four months later from Paris...France.<br /><br />It’s spring here, she said on my answering machine.<br />The sun is shining.<br />The flowers have blossomed.<br /><br />...I miss you Stan.<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-111749526829027109?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13270698.post-1117430987474061342005-05-29T21:28:00.000-07:002005-05-29T23:31:40.190-07:00<strong>all Ithaka (aka Darin Pappas/Korvorowng) lyrics </strong><br /><strong>published by: </strong><strong>RAVENSHARK MUSIC-ASCAP</strong><br /><strong>(administered by Memory Lane Music, NY)</strong><br /><strong><a href="http://www.ithaka.cc">www.ithaka.cc</a></strong> / <a href="mailto:sweatlodgerecords@hotmail.com">sweatlodgerecords@hotmail.com</a><br /><strong></strong><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">___________<strong>______________________________________________</strong></span><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>1<span style="font-size:130%;">. SAME ROOM BLUES</span></strong><br />lyrics and music: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />Six months in the same room<br />Same smelly carpet, same cracked window<br />A broken hot plate, that's what I got<br />And an old bed with springs that pop<br />when you're trying to snooze<br />Chinese noodles in the cupboard<br />Half-empty beers in the fridge<br />And a couple of porno mags<br />with their pages ripped<br />The roaches all have names<br />AL and Hank. Frank...and of course Tank<br />That fat-ass roach with his<br />beer gut hanging out<br />Mofo always comes back for more<br />Nailed him with a nudie mag<br />On the kitchenette floor<br />But wounded, he escaped under the fridge<br />And now Tank is back<br />Back for more<br />crumbs of noodles and drops of beer<br />On the kitchenette floor.<br />Six months in the same room.<br />Same smelly carpet.<br />same cracked window<br />SAME ROOM BLUES<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>____________________________________________________________________<br /><br />2. DINE 'n' DASH</strong></span><br />lyrics and music by: Ithaka c. 2004<br /><br />School got out early. We was broke and starving.<br />None of us had a dime. It was me, Clyde and Marvin<br />Got an idea, I said. Let's pull a dine n dash.<br />The obvious alternative when you ain't got cash<br />BOB's BIG BOY, the spot for dine n dash pimps.<br />It's easy to get out, they got them Jumbo shrimps<br />It was lunch hour the place was packed<br />Our waitress Rita, hadda beautiful face n nice rack<br />Marvin had steak and Clyde had fish fries<br />I had them jumbo shrimp,<br />But couldn't take my mind of Rita's thighs<br />The food wasn't too bad<br />but something else was on my mind<br />how could we leave a girl like Rita<br />stuck with the bill...that ain't kind.<br />AROUND THE TABLE AND OUT THE DOOR<br />SNEAKERS SQEAKING ACROSS A BOB'S BIG BOY FLOOR<br />YOU GOTTA RUN FAST WHEN YOU DINE N DASH<br />THE OBVIOUS ALTERNATIVE WHEN YOU AIN'T GOT CASH<br />People started leaving. Our time was running out.<br />A get-away was in order,(but)there was no easy route.<br />infatuated with Rita. I did not want to cheat her.<br />would've washed dishes for a month, done anything to please her<br />I know it's kinda corny, but I gave my testimony<br />yes, a begging her to join me in holy matrimony<br />Marry you? No,I don't think so, she replied<br />And by the way your bill comes out to twenty-six, sixty-five<br />AROUND THE TABLE AND OUT THE DOOR<br />SNEAKERS SQUEAKING ACROSS A BOB'S BIG BOY FLOOR<br />YOU GOTTA RUN FAST WHEN YOU DINE N DASH 2x<br />THE OBVIOUS ALTERNATIVE WHEN YOU AIN'T GOT CASH<br />Heart-broken, I asked for another side of fries<br />And when she turned to go get 'em,<br />I said, Come on, let's get out of here guys.<br />Around the table and out the door<br />Sneakers sqeaking across a Bob's Big Boy floor.<br />Marvin went left and Clyde went right<br />And I was the blue tornado, yes a spinnin' out a sight<br />But behind my back, almost on my heels<br />Was lovely Rita running after me with the bill.<br />She said, stop rude boy in the name of the law<br />you're going to the pound the be feathered and tarred<br />But I kept right on running and she kept right on chasing<br />Close enough to smell her perfume, I could swear it was Poisen<br />Then BAMM!!! I tripped in the gutter fell on my face<br />Rita landed on my back it was the end of the race<br />Then she put her arm around me and whispered in my ear<br />you want to get my number you can't eat and run dear<br />But she never went back to work and the cops never came<br />And me and Rita been together since that Dine N Dash day<br />AROUND THE TABLE AND OUT THE DOOR<br />SNEAKERS SQEAKING ACROSS A BOB'S BIG BOY FLOOR<br />YOU GOTTA RUN FAST WHEN YOU DINE N DASH 2x<br />THE OBVIOUS ALTERNATIVE WHEN YOU AIN'T GOT CASH<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>__________________________________________________________________<br /><br />3. WHO'S YOUR DADDY?</strong></span><br />lyrics and music: ithaka c. 2004<br /><br />Who's your daddy? who's your daddy?, who's your daddy?<br />who's your daddy? who's your daddy? who's your daddy?<br />Who's your daddy, who's your daddy?, who's your daddy?<br />who's your daddy? who's your daddy? who's your daddy?<br />She come from a typical family of five<br />a mother and four daughters trying to survive<br />her pop left the coupe before she was ONE<br />dropped a sperm cell and thought the job was done<br />her sisters are all from different fathers<br />and on their birthdays their fathers didn't bother<br />to send them a note, or to give 'em a call<br />they never see their girls who have grown so tall<br />don't know her daddy's face from his feet<br />was he that thug this morning on the street?<br />Is he dead or alive, she don't know<br />Is he broke, alone or does he got dough?<br />Who's your daddy, who's your daddy?, who's your daddy?<br />who's your daddy? who's your daddy? who's your daddy?<br />Who's your daddy, who's your daddy?, who's your daddy?<br />who's your daddy? who's your daddy? who's your daddy?<br />Is her daddy in prison or is he free?<br />Or Is he the bum who begged from me<br />To buy a crumb to eat or to get a coat<br />or will he use the coins to buy drink and dope<br />he may be her father, but he sure ain't a friend<br />And she don't care if she ever see him again<br />cuz where was he when she needed?<br />But still made through, and now deep seeded<br />Moms told her daddy died in a war<br />But who was that man last night at the door<br />telling mom can't get her out his mind<br />even in her room she could smell his breath of wine<br />Who's your daddy, who's your daddy?, who's your daddy?<br />who's your daddy? who's your daddy? who's your daddy?<br />Can't be the only ones, she must have others<br />how many sisters? how many brothers?<br />Does she have kin she will never meet?<br />walkin' down the alley in their bare feet<br />Cuz daddy left them like he left me<br />not caring if we live or if we bleed<br />So forget you daddy...I ain't your little kiddy<br />whoever you are where ever you may be<br />Mom had two roles, Mom and Dad both<br />She had three jobs, but somehow she coped<br />with bringing 'em up in this strange world<br />their mother among stones is a bright pearl<br />Who's your daddy, who's your daddy?, who's your daddy?<br />who's your daddy? who's your daddy? who's your daddy?<br />Who's your daddy, who's your daddy?, who's your daddy?<br />who's your daddy? who's your daddy? who's your daddy?<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">________________________________________________________________<br /></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">4. THE BUS SONG 2004<br /></span></strong>lyrics: Ithaka and Bnegao<br />music: Marecal c.2004<br /><br />Ten cans of Caracu already in my belly<br />Ain't showered at all, you guessed it I'm kinda smelly<br />Ai, eu pelo meu lado nao bebo tava tranquilo<br />fiz a obcao pela funaca pra afecta'r meus sentidos<br />But we wuz on our way to go to a show<br />From the burbs of Niteroi to the center of Rio<br />viagem longa tem tem tem que ter disposicao<br />bom humor pedida certa pra essa situacao<br />My bro Bnegao gonna show me the city life<br />See all the delirious underground Rio sights<br />Monte de pontos vitais Lapa destino final<br />Chorinho malandragem e' a batalha de um Real<br />But we didn't have a car, motorcycle or jet plane<br />I blew our dough on the beer, now a taxi's out of range<br />Como economistas sao uns excelentes imbe'cies<br />Ja' da' pra ver ai compadre, vai ser um franco daqueleles sair daqui<br />So how the fuck we gonna get there?<br />Ain't got no grana, no dinheiro to spare<br />to achando meu irmao que a unica obcao<br />sera um nome que o neginho tem verdadeira avercao<br />The answer to this question was<br />The goddamn muthafuckin bus<br />Yeah, right here on the muthafuckin bus<br />NO WE DON'T LIKE THE MUTHAFUCKIN BUS<br />BUT WE AIN' T GOT A MUTHAFUCKIN CAR<br />CUZ WE TOO MUTHAFUCKIN BROKE<br />AND IT'S TOO FUCKIN HOT TO WALK<br />AND WE GOTTA BEAT THE HANDS ON THE CLOCK<br />AND WE LATE TO THE MUTHAFUCKIN GIG<br />AND WE SWEATIN' LIKE MUTHAFUCKIN PIGS<br />RIGHT HERE ON THE MUTHAFUCKIN BUS<br />yeah, right here on the muthafuckin bus<br />Well it was hot and rainy this is true<br />But things were peaceful sipping on my brews<br />o macaco velho vacinado escolado num rolan<br />fica sambolado porque nas antigas conhecia CTC<br />Already 1am, and the bus still crowded<br />Some dude just tried to sell me some bootleg Viagra<br />Nao sei nao......rapaz nao chega nem perto do Generico<br />e' melhor voce deixar a natureza se seu melhor remedio<br />But who needs that shit when there's beauties-a-plenty<br />Best of all, them baby dolls on this bus were friendly<br />Entao compadre, e' disso q to falando Rapa<br />seque em frente aproveita<br />que a tua sovaca ainda nao virou um repelente<br />Fell in love ten times just over the bridge<br />Amor, the language on this crosstown voyage<br />Agora sim tu comeca entende' a cidade<br />Porque alguns gringos chega aqui muda ate de enternidade<br />My mind done changed about public transport<br />For thirty minutes thought I was at a rolling resort<br />Entao aproveita a sorte q'isso nao acontece todo a dia<br />Nada como a viagem longa em boa compania<br />But all of a sudden, we couldn't believe our eyes<br />Onto the bus walked fifteen stupid guys<br />E' nao precisava ser tanto assim<br />Ne' ja' fica disigual<br />Desafia as leis da fisica, stilo bacural<br />Even drunker than me and singing stupid songs<br />Goddamn I hope this trip ain't long<br />Uhm..ai rapaz nao quero desanimar nao<br />Mas puts! falta muito falta um pouco pra chegar ainda<br />So I told the the muthafuckin clowns<br />Ya better keep that noise down<br />Esses caras entronaram todo o alcool dos bares<br />Se alguem acendesse um fosforo ia tudo pelos ares<br />Now, don't get me wrong I wasn't looking for a fight<br />But here was fifteen muthafuckers here I just didn't like<br />Nao, eu sou pela nao violencia a favor de tolerancia<br />Precisa ser muito cinistro pra eu dar alguma importancia<br />Did you punch the "Joes" in the nose?<br />Hell no, but one at a me I dropped'em out the window<br />Plop-plop, splat-splat oh what a relief is that<br />RIGHT HERE ON THE MUTHAFUCKIN BUS<br />ITHAKA ON THE MUTHAFUCKIN BUS<br />BNEGAO ON THE MUTHAFUCKIN BUS<br />THALMA ON THE MUTHAFUCKIN BUS<br />YEAH, WE ALL ON THE MUTHAFUCKIN BUS<br />yeah right here on the muthafuckin bus<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">____________________________________________________________<br /><br />5. TECHNICALLY A FAILURE<br /></span></strong>lyrics and music: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />So you say ain't got a dollar to your name<br />you can still have a good days if ya follow my ways<br />but learn the rules before you go<br />of the vagabond-freeloader manifesto<br />So brush your teeth and wash your feet<br />Cuz if ya gonna beg, beg like the begger's elite<br />And leave your pride by the wayside<br />Ain't no ego allowed when ya beggin' for a ride<br />Sub-free rider from the LA zone<br />Technically a failure from my skull to my toes<br />Born in the burbs but that don't mean much<br />My Pops is dead n gone and my Mom's laid off.<br />And still as dumb as when I was young and my looks don't kill<br />Burnt my youth surfin and now I got no skills<br />Yes I'm broke, the brokest of the jokest<br />But keep my eyes to the sky and don't lose focus<br />Stay at Mary's on Monday<br />On Tuesday at Sue's<br />'Til Thursday I'm in the park<br />But eat at my Brother Stu's<br />Friday thru Sunday in Ventura with Roberta<br />Don't have my own crib I'm a freeloadin' vermin<br />THE LESS YOU POSSESS THE MORE FREEDOM YOU OWN<br />FROM YOUR SKINCELLS TO THE DEPTHS OF YOUR SOUL<br /><br />WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THAT SON OF MINE????<br />I RAISED HIM FROM A PUP, BUT HE'S GROWN TO BE A SWINE<br />HE'S NOT PRESENTABLE HE'S NOT RESPECTABLE<br />DON'T READ HIS BIBLE, JUST GOES TO MEXICO<br />THE LESS YOU POSSESS THE MORE FREEDOM YOU OWN<br />BUT YOU'RE TECHNICALLY A FAILURE<br />FROM YOUR TOES TO YOUR DOME<br />....technically a failure<br />it's true I don't work nine to nine<br />to sacrifice my life for six dollars and a dime<br />I'm playing the game my own way<br />don't need too much of nobody<br />and I got no one to blame<br />I don't own shit. I never had shit.<br />I don't need shit. And I never want shit.<br />Most of my dreams are of wandering<br />Not of money and fame and blingedy bling<br />ain't nobody left to impress<br />and the less you posess, the more freedom you own<br />from the marrow of your bone to the depths of your soul<br />free to roam to places unknown<br />can be inside your dome or thru the allies of Rome<br />But when I ride by bus. train. or plane<br />I need more than a nickle for my travel campaign<br />so can you send me ten dollars to me P.O. BOX?<br />I'll put it to good use. I mean it, I promise<br />The Anatomy of Restlessness<br />Is the way that I deal with stress<br />When the world seems routine and uninspiring<br />The veiw out the window a dull painting<br />I split . Vacate. Escape. Evaporate.<br />I migrate south instead of hybernate.<br />THE LESS YOU POSSESS THE MORE FREEDOM YOU OWN<br />FROM YOUR SKINCELLS TO THE DEPTHS OF YOUR SOUL<br /><br />WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THAT SON OF MINE<br />I RAISED HIM FROM A PUP, BUT HE'S GROWN TO BE A SWINE<br />HE'S NOT PRESENTABLE HE'S NOT RESPECTABLE<br />DON'T READ HIS BIBLE, JUST GOES TO MEXICO<br />THE LESS YOU POSSESS THE MORE FREEDOM YOU OWN<br />BUT YOU'RE TECHNICALLY A FAILURE<br />FROM YOUR TOES TO YOUR DOME<br />......technically a failure<br />I wander the world in search of nothing<br />Never knowing what the future will bring<br />From the tropics to the desert to Tallahassee<br />I always be the wandering MC<br />Riding the bus at night to avoid gettin' a room<br />Looking out the window at a Peruvian moon.<br />A stepchild unknown I roamed into Lisbonne<br />Became Ithaka-The Fishdaddy but still broke to bone<br />So if I come to town don't stop me on the street<br />Begging me to a rhyme while you beat box (weak)<br />Just seeking a spot to sleep and something to eat<br />But if you ya got a sister between 18 and 44<br />And a free spot on the sofa back in the corner<br />I'll be your friend for a minute or two<br />I'm tired of sleeping on the road cuz I ain't got a room<br />But I prefer not to see the same faces daily<br />So understand, if we meet again I'll run like you got rabies<br />Faces and cats and roaches and dogs<br />Are like old friends that you can't get rid of<br />THE LESS YOU POSSES THE MORE FREEDOM YOU OWN<br />FROM YOUR SKINCELLS TO THE DEPTHS OF YOUR SOUL<br /><br />WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THAT SON OF MINE<br />I RAISED HIM FROM A PUP, BUT HE'S GROWN TO BE A SWINE<br />HE'S NOT RESPECTABLE. HE'S NOT PRESENTABLE<br />DON'T READ HIS BIBLE, JUST GOES TO MEXICO<br />THE LESS YOU POSSESS THE MORE FREEDOM YOU OWN<br />BUT YOU'RE TECHNICALLY A FAILURE<br />FROM YOUR TOES TO YOUR DOME<br /><br />THE LESS YOU POSSESS THE MORE FREEDOM YOU OWN<br />BUT YOU'RE TECHNICALLY A FAILURE<br />FROM YOUR TOES TO YOUR DOME<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">_____________________________________________________________________<br /></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">6.WHO's THE ENEMY?</span></strong><br />lyrics: Ithaka and Gabriel O Pensador<br />music: Ithaka and Berna Ceppas<br />c.2004<br /><br />Did ya ever notice that governments of the globe<br />Try to generalize each other as friend or foe<br />But what is a country, but a dividing wire<br />Of who pays taxes to which vampires<br />Just try to see that folk that live in tyranny<br />Ain't anymore the enemy than you or than me<br />I remember back when I was fourteen<br />Of the news on TV and of the films on the screen<br />Tried to have us all hatin' the Soviet Union<br />The Evil Empire, I believe was their slogan<br />But later on, when the heat began to cool<br />Russian exchange students arrived at our school<br />They dug computer games, rock and hip-hop<br />Studied hard, drank like fish, smoked a lot of pot<br />Two brainy dudes and four goddess like girls<br />Didn't exactly look to me like, Enemy Of The World<br />IS THIS THE ENEMY?<br />IS THIS THE REAL ENEMY?<br />DON'T LOOK LIKE THE ENEMY<br />NOW TELL ME WHO'S THE ENEMY<br />I learned once, now I try to unlearn<br />That some country's flags should be shredded and burned<br />But I live in a country which by force of fate<br />Has developed a culture of more love than hate<br />It's a country where people vote peace, not war<br />And where any foreigner finds an open door<br />Here we have many colors and many religions<br />Many ways of seeing things and of thinking these visions<br />But sometimes you just see what they shove in your eye<br />And the easiest way of thinking is believing a lie<br />That's why some accept the unacceptable<br />And soldiers go, where no one has to go<br />And leaders tell just what they want us to know<br />But where the hell is the real truth they never show?<br />Talking about hell, where does the devil reside?<br />And in a war, how come god has to choose one side?<br />Don't be fooled by your pride, when a guy with no wisdom<br />Wants to be a super hero in the name of freedom<br />Even sacred words can be excuses for killing<br />What you really want to know is who's the real villian<br />IS THIS THE ENEMY?<br />IS THIS THE REAL ENEMY?<br />DON'T LOOK LIKE THE ENEMY<br />NOW TELL ME WHO'S THE ENEMY<br />The commander-in chiefs of this planet<br />Put the population control on automatic<br />By planting the the seeds of hate in our lands<br />And watering the seeds with propaganda<br />Among the black, the brown, yellow, red, and the white<br />The Muslim, the Hindu, Christian and Israelite<br />But the enemies of The Man, ain't my enemies<br />Just individuals trying to make ends meet<br />So please don't believe everything you hear and see<br />Ulterior motives runs miles and miles deep<br />Basic need became basic greed<br />Globalizing economy while ignoring ecology<br />Bombs kill folk and pollute the air both<br />Eradicate species, but guarentee market growth<br />Got money for arms, but not for schools and medicine?<br />Now you tell me, who's got the enemy doctrine?<br />IS THIS THE ENEMY?<br />IS THIS THE REAL ENEMY?<br />DON'T LOOK LIKE THE ENEMY<br />NOW TELL ME WHO'S THE ENEMY<br />WHO IS THE VICTIM HERE?<br />WHO IS THE ONE I FEAR?<br />WHO IS THE ONE I BLAME?<br />WHO PUTS THE WORLD IN SHAME?<br />WHO MAKES THE WORLD INSANE?<br />WHO MAKES THE BOMBING RAIN?<br />WHO MAKES ME CRY IN PAIN?<br />WHO MAKES ME DIE IN VAIN?<br />Who's chasing who? you better think twice<br />Who's the hunter? who's the hunted<br />Who are the cats? who are the mice?<br />I see policians, how they speak so nice<br />I see how suspiciously they roll the dice<br />I see how they lie and control our lives<br />I see, I see they're just cold like ice<br />I simply can't stand all this sacrifice<br />In the name of the law, when the laws are lies<br />Don't rely on those who preach that same old speech<br />That many should be poor, so one or two can be rich<br />I've been walking and talking across the five continents<br />I've seen hunger and humility, anger and arrogance<br />The more I see, the more I feel this shame<br />The more I see we're different<br />The more I see we're different<br />The more I feel we are all the same<br />I've seen a lot places, a lot of faces<br />A lot of so-called races of humanity in front of me<br />I've seen some pictures on the wall and on the TV screen<br />But I still haven't seen the real enemy<br />IS THIS THE ENEMY?<br />IS THIS THE REAL ENEMY?<br />DON'T LOOK LIKE THE ENEMY<br />NOW TELL ME WHO'S THE ENEMY<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>___________________________________________________________________<br /><br />7. WORK RELATED</strong></span><br />lyrics and music: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />hey Ithaka...you daydreaming again?<br />are you listening to me, Boy?<br />if you want to stay among the employed<br />you gotta follow the rules<br />YOU remember the rules<br />WASTING AWAY MY DAYS FOR MINIMUM WAGE<br />PRAYING TO A GOD WITH NO NAME<br />RESCUE ME FROM THIS CAGE<br />FORGIVE ME I'M THANKFUL IN MY WAY<br />BUT I HAD TOO MUCH REALITY FOR ONE DAY<br />fun flies when you doing time<br />for an hour of your life ya<br />git six dollars and a dime<br />I used to be somebody, someplace<br />but here in Somewhere, I became a disgrace<br />A job ? shit, haven't had one in years<br />I'm an artist supposed to git supported by my peers<br />But my peers disappeared and my money ran out<br />Lost my girl, my pride, even lost my clout<br />Had ambition and dreams<br />Plans to be traveling<br />But I took my luck for granted<br />and now I'm abandoned<br />dropped ERASE THE SLATE years ago<br />but before life got cruel and unusual<br />It's about peace, self-respect and self-preservation<br />But both sides of the rhyme be in need of salvation<br />How can I preach peace when there's hate in my heart?<br />How can I keep jealousy from tearing me apart?<br />what's it like to live a slob<br />when you know you supposed to be getting paid<br />Know you supposed to be getting laid<br />While theives without a phrase<br />already got it made got it made?<br />try to keep it cool, try not to act a fool<br />I Gotta refrain, I Gotta mantain<br />I Got to keep myself from going insane<br />Gotta Gotta Gotta STAY out of the gutter<br />Gotta Gotta KEEP my head above water<br />No health insurance can't aford payments it's hopeless<br />I'm less than two paychecks from being homeless<br />WASTING AWAY MY DAYS FOR MINIMUM WAGE<br />PRAYING TO A GOD WITH NO NAME<br />RESCUE ME UP FROM THIS CAGE<br />FORGIVE ME I'M THANKFUL IN MY OWN WAY<br />BUT I HAD TOO MUCH REALITY FOR ONE DAY<br />hey Ithaka..you daydreaming again?<br />are you listening to me?<br />if you want to remain among the employed<br />you got to follow the rules<br />you remember the rules?<br />Don't read<br />Don't breathe<br />Don't talk......you're on the clock<br />and turn that goddamn broken music off!!!<br /><br />I want you to mop the floor, and take out the trash<br />clean the toilet and empty the rat traps<br />move this here and then move that<br />them move them back where they<br />were when you're done with that<br /><br />Hitting my head against the wall<br />I've been here before, but no I ain't gonna fall<br />Gotta gotta gotta break on thru<br />That's what I gotta gotta gotta do<br />I'm at that point of no retreat<br />But I'm still at least standing upon my feet<br />I've been to and from hell and I lived to tell<br />a story or two about the wishing well<br />So give me respect, at least give me a raise<br />so I can get a ride and be on my way<br />WASTING AWAY MY DAYS FOR MINIMUM WAGE<br />PRAYING TO A GOD WITH NO NAME<br />RESCUE ME UP FROM THIS CAGE<br />FORGIVE ME I'M THANKFUL IN MY WAY<br />BUT I HAD TOO MUCH REALITY FOR ONE DAY<br />WASTING AWAY MY DAYS FOR MINIMUM WAGE<br />PRAYING TO A GOD WITH NO NAME<br />RESCUE ME UP FROM THIS CAGE<br />FORGIVE ME I'M THANKFUL IN MY WAY<br />BUT I HAD TOO MUCH REALITY FOR ONE DAY<br />hey hey now Ithaka what are doing with that knife?<br />you.... you know you're my favorite,<br />just..don't do anything you're gonna regret later<br />I QUIT!<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">__________________________________________________________________</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">8. I RIDE</span></strong><br />music and lyrics by: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />I RIDE I RIDE I RIDE I RIDE<br /><br />I RIDE SINCE I WAS A SMALL FRY<br />.... SINCE THE DAY MAMMY MULTIPLIED<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY SOUL ALIVE<br />I RIDE UNTIL THE DAY, THE DAY THAT I DIE<br />I RIDE PORQUE SOU DE AGUA E DO SOL<br />QUANDO SURFO A VIDA TEM MAIS SENTIDO<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE VEIW FROM THE TUBE<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE COLOR BLUE<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY MOJO INTACT<br />SO I GOT THE GOODS TO DELIVER when my baby gets back<br /><br />I RIDE cuz I prefer to GLIDE<br />than to get HIGH<br />with THINGS that make MY brain fry<br />I RIDE the bumps in LA grime<br />I RIDE to forget LA city crime<br />I ride. cuz I prefer to fly<br />than to be on the SIDE on standby<br />I RIDE i like SALT sray in my eyes<br />I'll ride til the DAY the SUN makes me blind<br />I RIDE cuz nothing better than being inside<br />.....a waves inner thigh<br />I ride, cuz SHE's always wet<br />She never talks back or messes with my head<br />I ride<br />I ride<br /><br />I RIDE to be cleansed of my sins<br />used to ride twin but I prefer a trifin<br />I RIDE whenver I have the time<br />grew up by the sea, but I was born in Anaheim<br />I RIDE I don't sit and observe<br />I RIDE day or night whenever I have the urge<br />I RIDE to calm my burnt nerves<br />I RIDE when my sanity I need to preserve<br />when ride in the calm. I go with the flow<br />when I ride in the storm I git agro<br />I RIDE ALL AROUND THIS globe<br />I RIDE IN THE TROPICS I RIDE IN THE COLD<br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE SINCE I WAS A SMALL FRY<br />.... SINCE THE DAY MAMMY MULTIPLIED<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY SOUL ALIVE<br />I RIDE UNTIL THE DAY,THE DAY THAT I DIE<br />I RIDE PORQUE SOU DA AGUA E DO SOL<br />QUANDO SURFO A VIDA TEM MAIS SENTIDO<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE VEIW FROM THE TUBE<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE COLOR BLUE<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY MOJO INTACT<br />SO I'S GOT THE GOODS TO DELIVER when my baby gets back<br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br />I ride to be one with nature<br />I ride to keep from bad behavior<br />I ride to shed my in hi bi tions<br />riding everyday is my one ambition<br />I ride cuz it's power supreme<br />Sometimes I ride naked sometimes wear neprene<br />I RIDE Cuz i gots the need for speed<br />.... cuz I GOT GREED for speed<br />.....yes I'll even bleed for speed<br />I RIDE, glide down the line for a mile<br />.....cuz that's my substance free exhile<br />I Ride, slide into liquid caves<br />I ride cuz that's my one and only escape<br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br />I ride to be one with nature<br />I ride to keep from bad behavior<br />I ride over rocks I ride over reefs<br />I'll ride any wave but prefer steep peaks<br />I ride to keep myself inspired<br />To sculpt or scribe or even change a tire<br />I ride in the middle of the winter<br />I rode a place that made my stick a splinter<br />I rode walls that blocked out the sky<br />Underwater out of breath I saw my life flash by<br />I ride to escape street commotion<br />I give my praise to the motion of the ocean<br />I ride when I'm angry or about (to starve)<br />I get on rail and begin to carve<br />a liquid piece of the pie<br />No longer feel like I want to die<br />I ride in the Atlantic, I ride in the Pacific<br />I ride secret spots, can't be too specific<br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE SINCE I WAS A SMALL FRY<br />.... SINCE THE DAY MAMMY MULTIPLIED<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY SOUL ALIVE<br />I RIDE UNTIL THE DAY,THE DAY THAT I DIE<br />I RIDE PORQUE SOU DA AGUA E DOSOL<br />QUANDOSURFO A VIDA TEM MAIS SENTIDO<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE VEIW FROM THE TUBE<br />I RIDE CUZ I LIKE THE COLOR BLUE<br />I RIDE TO KEEP MY MOJO INTACT<br />SO I'S GOT THE GOODS TO DELIVER when my baby gets back<br />I RIDE<br />I RIDE<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>__________________________________________________________________<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>9. MARTA de la VALLARTA</strong></span><br />lyrics and music by ithaka c.2004<br /><br />October twenty-fifth, two-zero, zero two<br />A thousand south of the border with the Sweatlodge Crew<br />It was a work trip, stills and videos<br />Fifteen of us, ten babes and five time- bros<br />It'd been a long intense week of travel<br />We'd had a good a time but it was starting to unravel<br />Hurricane Marta was somewhere near the coast<br />But for us, easier to believe in ghosts<br />They'd told us to leave, but we didn't believe<br />Cuz we's from LA, California<br />where weather-wise nothing happens<br />day-after-day<br />Out for drinks in old towne Vallarta<br />It was a tribe mind thing that we was all a part of<br />Having the time of our entire lives<br />Laughing and dancing the second we arrived<br />Getting freaky on the dancefloor in Puerta Vallarta<br />Didn't have a clue we was about to meet Marta<br />WE HAD BOTTOM-HEAVY BASS-BANGING JOINTS IN THE HOUSE<br />TWO FOR ONE DRINK SPECIALS THERE WAS ZERO DOUBT<br />WE WUZ SHAKING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />WE WUZ DRINKING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />WE WUZ LIVING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />THEN CAME THE STORM OF THE DECADE<br />A WITCH NAMED MARTA<br /><br />At six a.m., back at the Shereton<br />The party moved to my room the number was seven-ten<br />Wind arrived as it was getting light<br />Outside shorepounders least 30-feet high<br />Light giant muddy teeth chomping down the shore<br />a quarter hour later rolling thru the lobby's back door<br />Palm trees, tvs, refrigerators more<br />swept on thru the first , second floors<br />Lights, water and phone already gone<br />nowhere to go, we was stranded alone<br />Windows popping like Redenbacher popcorn<br />Doors slamming like Amity house of horror<br />Plaster and bricks getting torn off of the ceiling<br />While the staff in a circle crying and a kneeling<br />But the Pagan in us didn't want to fuss<br />Let us LIVE! or let our heads bust!<br />Bring this shit on! we cheered, Bring this shit on!<br />WE HAD BOTTOM-HEAVY BASS-BANGING JOINTS IN THE HOUSE<br />TWO FOR ONE DRINK SPECIALS THERE WAS ZERO DOUBT<br />WE WUZ SHAKING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />WE WUZ DRINKING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />WE WUZ LIVING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />THEN CAME THE STORM OF THE DECADE<br />A WITCH NAMED MARTA<br /><br />What would you do? What would YOU do?<br />If you knew the roof was coming down<br />And if ya left that you would drown<br />What we did was a given<br />Not allowed to recommend it<br />But definitely don't condemn it.<br />Thought, what is it in life that we most cherish?<br />Dig music and making love<br />Turned up the volume and opened another rum<br />Just like that old Beach Boys song<br />Two babes for every bro<br />As the building was crumbling<br />We was dancin' and drinkin' and grindin' and bumpin'<br />Instead of screaming and crying<br />We was laughing and loving<br />Bring this shit on! we cheered Bring this shit on!<br />But after only three hours, the wind slowed the rain stopped<br />The sun came out and the waves began to drop<br />Just like Moses dividing the Red Sea<br />Without delay Marta's waters began to recede<br />The hotel no longer shaked and quaked<br />Had our little party been a big mistake??<br />Well hell no, stoked that we wadn't "drowners"<br />We turned the volume up even louder<br />WE HAD BOTTOM-HEAVY BASS-BANGING JOINTS IN THE HOUSE<br />TWO FOR ONE DRINK SPECIALS THERE WAS ZERO DOUBT<br />WUZ SHAKING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />WE WUZ DRINKING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />WE WUZ LIVING IT UP IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />THOUGHT WE WUZ GONNA DIE IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br />BUT WE SURVIVED A FIVE IN PUERTA VALLARTA<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">___________________________________________________________________</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">10. BROTHER BARSTOW</span></strong><br />lyrics and music: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />My brother left the city<br />get away from it all<br />Away from high rents,<br />pollution and traffic<br />moved to the desert<br />where there is no grass<br />Just dust and sun and sadness<br />The rents are low, this is true<br />but there aren't many jobs<br />and the collars are blue<br />Brother Bartsow,<br />if you're running from yourself,give it up<br />Eyes from the skies are on you<br />Eyes from the skies are on you<br />My brother left the city<br />get away from it all<br />Away from high rents,<br />pollution and traffic<br />moved to the desert<br />where there is no grass<br />Just dust and sun and sadness<br />The rents are low, this is true<br />but there aren't many jobs<br />and the collars are blue<br />Brother Bartsow,<br />if you're running from yourself<br />Give it up<br />Eyes from the skies are on you<br />Eyes from the skies are on you<br />People are the key,<br />not air, water, food like scientists thought.<br />So don't isolate.....integrate<br />If I catch a rail, I'll come to say hey<br />but give me a call if you're coming my way<br />come see the lights once in a while, Brother Barstow<br />come see the lights once in a while, Brother Barstow<br />come see the lights once in a while, Brother Barstow<br />come see the lights once in a while,<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">________________________________________________________________<br /></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">11. LIKE A BOTTLE OF BACCARDI (she made my life a party)<br /></span></strong>lyrics and music: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />six years in Lisboa,<br />guess I sort of<br />burned out my welcome<br />my friends coming by seldom<br />my presence was bigger than paycheck<br />was wanting to disappear like thumbtack into haystack<br />no transport to escape on regular basis<br />moved out of the city to a place called Oerias<br />didn't know none of the local kids<br />lived between the projects and the bourgouis pigs<br />couldn't relate to the northside betinos<br />I kept to the south with my new crew of amigos<br />Believe Posse was the group to see<br />they had a cool sound, Bodycount meet MARLEY<br />and the bass player's sister they called,"Mloa"<br />had a radiant angola mocha glowa<br />first time I seen Mloa was outside of the store<br />wearing a red kimono hair wrapped around a bone<br />living walking example of style and grace<br />curvy little figure with unusual face<br />whom I saw was the girl of my life<br />a girl who could maybe someday be my wife<br />gotta gotta good thing going<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />SHE'S ICECREAM ON MY PIE<br />THE KETCHUP ON MY FRIES<br />TWO SHOTS OF EXPRESSO<br />BEFORE THE SUNRISE<br />LIKE A BOTTLE OF BACARDI<br />SHE MAKES MY LIFE A PARTY<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />gotta gotta good thing going<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />She'd had 18 years of living in a crowded crib<br />Two bedrooms stuffed to capacity with growing kids<br />Bairro das Caixas the zone she from<br />saturated with smack and mud<br />and everything else under the sun<br />On my out been on the other side a long time<br />Wanna come back to LA my eccentric valentine?<br />Si, quero ir contigo<br />the answer was yes<br />Took her Moms to Palmeiras to eat Chinese<br />told her as calm as possible,<br />your daughter's coming with me<br />to the City of Angels to make a fresh start<br />leave the zone. the dope. and pursue a career in art<br />gotta gotta good thing going<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />SHE'S ICECREAM ON MY PIE<br />THE KETCHUP ON MY FRIES<br />TWO SHOTS OF EXPRESSO<br />BEFORE THE SUNRISE<br />LIKE A BOTTLE OF BACARDI<br />SHE MAKES MY LIFE A PARTY<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />gotta gotta good thing going<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />comin back to Cali without a nickle to our names<br />I was parking cars and she waitressed and Jane's<br />Using fake name, numbers and fake papers<br />Do what you do to get paid for labors<br />We kept the faith, we was not hopeless<br />We laughed away three years of brokeness<br />Laughing at ourselves, laughing with each other<br />giving the rest of the world hell<br />just us against them others<br />Finally we starting to live out our dreams<br />Doing our projects and doing some traveling<br />I wouldn't want to do it without her<br />She wouldn't want to do it with out me<br />gotta gotta good thing going<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />SHE'S ICECREAM ON MY PIE<br />THE KETCHUP ON MY FRIES<br />TWO SHOTS OF EXPRESSO<br />BEFORE THE SUNRISE<br />LIKE A BOTTLE OF BACARDI<br />SHE MAKES MY LIFE A PARTY<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />gotta gotta good thing going<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />SHE'S ICECREAM ON MY PIE<br />THE KETCHUP ON MY FRIES<br />TWO SHOTS OF EXPRESSO<br />BEFORE THE SUNRISE<br />LIKE A BOTTLE OF BACARDI<br />SHE MAKES MY LIFE A PARTY<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />gotta gotta good thing going<br />the vibe don't stagnate<br />the love keeps rolling<br />__________________________________________________________________<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">12. MUERTO ESCONDIDO</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong>lyrics and music: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />I know a place that's hot most the time<br />A spliff cost a quarter, a beer cost a dime<br />I've roameded the globe, Nairob'to Kyoto<br />But my favorite ghetto is in the depths of Mexico<br />Paradise is where you make it, but this ain't for the weak<br />Where men walk on water and zombies walk the streets<br />The water's blue, sand black, skin brown<br />Near a little ghost town that never shuts down<br />Beauty all around for miles<br />But there's darkness in their smiles<br />....there's darkness in their smiles<br />MUERTO ESCONDIDO.... SU ALMA ESTA EM PElIGRO<br />LA VERDADE SERA REVELADA EM MUERTO ESCONDIDIO<br />Muerto's got swells that'll kick yo' ass<br />Sprain yo' ankles or leave 'em casts<br />There's tropical rain to wash away the pain<br />But ain't nothing to keep you from going insane<br />jacking straight up with a chip on her shoulder<br />one-woman army, million-gallon liquid soldier<br />Muerto Escondido, not for the weak<br />Where men walk on water and zombies walk the streets<br />Ants the size of roaches and roaches the size of mice<br />Scorpions in your shoes and beds full of lice<br />INSIDE: frogs and 'squitos in the shower<br />OUTSIDE: guns, knives and murder<br />When a house gets robbed, I mean the house itself<br />They kick your sorry butt out and move it someplace else<br />It's no man's land, It's no thugs land<br />It's no one's land...e' LOCOLAND<br />MUERTO ESCONDIDO.... SU ALMA ESTA EM PELIGRO<br />LA VERDADE SERA REVELADA EM MUERTO ESCONDIDIO<br />Suicide and homicide<br />With dead dogs by the roadside<br />The river runs with blood the sixth of the month<br />Coinciding with the local eclipse of the sun<br />Took shrooms at dawn and thought I saw god<br />Told me to drink more tequila, stop drinking so much rum<br />Went to a party at that house up on the hill<br />With lizards on the walls and ghosts in the halls<br />Sat down to a plate of fishead stew<br />Sucking on an eyeball, I'd been trying to chew<br />Saw ants moving bread across the floor<br />Through the dining room the kitchen and out the door<br />They didn't even wait 'til we got to desert<br />But neither did the skeezer with me trying to flirt<br />She said, I'm from Italy, but I've lived here ten years<br />Now I have two husbands and I have six kids<br />Her mouth was melting as she tried to speak<br />Said, Caro Ithaka let me give you a treat<br />She started unzipping, but I was not with it<br />had a chancre the size of a quarter<br />on the outside of her lippage<br />Left the room, left the house<br />But that ghost in the hall followed me out<br />He said, you can run, but you cannot hide<br />From that little dark lie you call your life<br />Wontcha come back in and stay awhile<br />drink some blood with Tequila, Escondido style<br />MUERTO ESCONDIDIO NOT FOR THE WEAK<br />WHERE MEN WALK ON WATER<br />AND ZOMBIES WALK THE STREETS<br />MUERTO ESCONDIDO...SU ALMA ESTA EM PELIGRO<br />LA VERDADE SERA REVELADA EM MUERTO ESCONDIDIO<br />MUERTO ESCONDIDIO NOT FOR THE WEAK<br />WHERE MEN WALK ON WATER<br />AND ZOMBIES WALK THE STREETS<br />MUERTO ESCONDIDO...SU ALMA ESTA EM PELIGRO<br />LA VERDADE SERA REVELADA EM MUERTO ESCONDIDIO<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">___________________________________________________________________<br /></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">13. STINGRAY SHUFFLE<br /></span></strong>lyrics and music: Ithaka c.2004<br /><br />A stingray<br />is a flat, bottom-feeding fish<br />that feeds and breeds<br />in warm shallow water<br />and prefers sandy sea floors<br />Stingrays are not agressive,<br />but will defend themselves<br />if stepped on.<br />They have a stinger in their tails<br />and they will use<br />to sting their attacker<br />in the foot or ankle.<br />The stinger is covered in a protein<br />that adds to the pain of the sting<br />If you get stung,<br />the lifeguard will have you<br />soak you feet in hot water.<br />This breaks down the toxins<br />and will help relieve the pain.<br />Shuffling your feet slowly in the sand<br />will warn stingrays<br />to move out of your way.<br />Shuffling your feet slowly in the sand<br />will warn stingrays<br />to move out of your way.<br />Shuffling your feet slowly in the sand<br />will warn stingrays<br />to move out of your way.<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">___________________________________________________________</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">14. SLEEPING IN THE SHADE<br /></span></strong>lyrics and music: ithaka c.2004<br /><br />hit and run....quick as a gun<br />hit and run....quick as a gun<br />hit and run...quick as a gun<br />hit and run...quick as a gun<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />DREAMING ABOUT A FRIEND<br />WHO WENT EARLY TO HER GRAVE<br />NOW SHE'S UNDER A TREE AND OUT OF THE SUN<br />IN A PLACE TO REST FROM A WORLD FAR GONE<br />Coming up in life, doing what she liked<br />had her head on right with her goals in sight<br />Well liked, well loved...on earth and above<br />A rose without thorns from a puddle of mud<br />She was twenty and I was eighteen<br />Had art classes together at L.A.C.C.<br />She was always drawing shoes<br />Instead of flowers and reeds<br />and just a couple of years later<br />People wore them shoes on their feet<br />hit and run....quick as a gun<br />hit and run....quick as a gun<br />hit and run...quick as a gun<br />hit and run...quick as a gun<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />DREAMING ABOUT A FRIEND<br />WHO WENT EARLY TO HER GRAVE<br />NOW SHE'S UNDER A TREE AND OUT OF THE SUN<br />IN A PLACE TO REST FROM A WORLD FAR GONE<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />She taught me about living, laughing and loving<br />During lunch hours at her Mom's apartment<br />Dream hard and play hard and love hard<br />and work hard and love hard and dream hard<br />Her soul and spirit had a strong effect on me<br />Cuz soon I started doing what I love.....wandering<br />I remember her laugh, white teeth n olive skin<br />And her favorite line, live this life to win<br />When I saw her 'fore I left on journey<br />She told me, Fly high "Ith"...send me a card sometime<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />DREAMING ABOUT A FRIEND<br />WHO WENT EARLY TO HER GRAVE<br />NOW SHE'S UNDER A TREE AND OUT OF THE SUN<br />IN A PLACE TO REST FROM A WORLD FAR GONE<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />Got a letter in Lisbon, six months later<br />But it wasn't from her...it was from her brother<br />Said, on her birthday friends asked her out<br />To El Cholo on Western. Her favorite without doubt<br />Margaritas for Margarita with vegetarian fajitas<br />Happy Birthday sung in Spanish by irridecent senhoritas<br />Blew out the candles and laughed out loud<br />And said, I got something in the car I wanna show you all<br />But on her way back to the lot, walking the crosswalk<br />Got taken out with a truck that didn't even stop<br />as her dragged her down the block<br />.......................................................................<br />A young beautiful life. Age: twenty-four<br />Reduced to three bumps on a truck's floor board<br />hit and run....quick as a gun<br />hit and run....quick as a gun<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br />SLEEPING IN THE SHADE ON A SUMMER'S DAY<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">_______________________________________________________________</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">15. 'N PORTUGAL</span></strong><br />lyrics:Ithaka / music: Berna Ceppas c. 2004<br /><br />Ithaka got love for Portugal<br />Cuz I lived alot of years in Portugal<br />Cuz I got alotta bros in Portugal<br />Cuz I found my soul in Portugal<br />Ithaka ain't from the old school, Ithaka ain't from the new<br />I came swimming into the picture from the depths of the blue<br />With my fins dried out dragged myself to town<br />Didn't know it if I was lost or if I was found<br />No job no friend no money not funny<br />Stepchild in Lisboa with no milkshakes or honey<br />But I be gliding I be rolling<br />Treatin' time like it be stolen<br />Take the whole story back to the year 1992<br />Cuz sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do<br />Time for me to escape from the city of devils<br />It was the riddle of life that I was trying to unravel<br />I had to get out of there while there was going to get<br />LA was the hunter California was the net<br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br />I WAS FLAT BROKE... IN PORTUGAL<br />ATE ALOT OF CALDO VERDE..... IN PORTUGAL<br />DRANK ALOT OF SUPERBOCK.....IN PORTUGAL<br />SMOKED ALOT OF GANZA IN...PORTUGAL<br />I look to the blue cuz I'm THE BUM WITH BLUE BLOOD<br />BEEN FOUR long YEARS since I made KETCHUP LOVE.<br />Pretty Little, Pretty Little pretty pretty STELLAFLY<br />Won't you please baby please be my SUBSTANCE-FREE EXHILE<br />But she said, No It's time for you to roam<br />So catch the SUSHI-PACK SUBWAY and get yourself on home<br /><br />I walk the street with no STREET LOYALTY<br />Cuz I be from the sea, I be the FISHDADDY<br />In my SPIRITUAL GRAVEYARD, there I was stuck<br />Wasn't easy like I thought to just SO GET UP<br />THE RISE AND FALL OF A FORTUNE that was the next PLOT<br />SUNNY THE BUNNY split with my money but he never got caught<br />ERASE THE SLATE OF HATE, ERASE THE SLATE OF HATE<br />With some FLOWERS AND THE COLOR OF PAINT<br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br />THERE'S ALOT OF SUGAR DOLLS...IN PORTUGAL<br />AND I MADE ALOT OF LOVE .....IN PORTUGAL<br />BUT I DIDN'T MAKE BABIES..IN PORTUGAL<br />CUZ I ALWAYS WORE A GLOVE...IN PORTUGAL<br />BUTTERFLY OF WISDOM said, STAY STRONG LITTLE BROTHER<br />AIN'T NO BREEZE, so STONEMOBILE on down to the ALABAMA CAVE PARTY<br />KING TARDY's UMBILIBUS arrived at two<br />With the ESCAPE FROM THE CITY OF ANGEL crew<br />Then it was URSULA of ITHAKA, CAPRICORN and CANCER<br />And SEABRA IS MAD from SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF GIBRALTAR<br />Later, met PIGEON LADY at EDEN BY THE SEA<br />She's a SLEEPDRIVER But she makes GOOD COOKIES.....<br />Oatmeal choclate chip cookies<br />Now I'm speeding through the decades like they was red lights<br />Keeping a lead on the loanshark that lent me the good life<br />I'm out there living mine all the time,<br />Cuz rhymes don't grow in the garden<br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME AND I'M A PART OF YOU<br />PEACE AND LOVE... ........IN PORTUGAL<br />THE SKY'S STILL BLUE..... IN PORTUGAL<br />REEFS AND POINTS......... IN PORTUGAL<br />SCORED THE BARREL OF MY LIFE...IN PORTUGAL<br />SCRIBED ALOT OF RHYMES... IN PORTUGAL<br />MADE A DEMO..... .........IN PORTUGAL<br />CUT TWO ALBUMS ...........IN PORTUGAL<br />Yes, LIFE WAS GOOD......... IN PORTUGAL<br />PORTUGAL, I MISSING YOU<br />YOU WAS DOWN WITH ME AND I'M DOWN WITH YOU<br />PORTUGAL, I'M MISSING YOU<br />YOU'RE A PART OF ME AND I'M A PART OF YOU<div class="blogger-post-footer">all lyrics for ithaka's album recorded in rio (2004)<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13270698-111743098747406134?l=ithakalyrics.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sweatlodgenoreply@blogger.com