3RD ROCK FROM THE SUN

3rd Rock From The Sun by a boy called wolf ears

This is my final blog entry for 2012. I'm writing it while listening to 'Solid Gold Sunday's' on 702, although it's a Monday, and OMD's 'Forever Live and Die' has just been supplanted by 'One Night in Bangkok' - you'll forgive my looseness. This post is a song, you poor things. For the record, and my own defense, my demo songs are captured on a tiny four track machine with whom (yes, I've personified it) I am in a running battle to exact a decent drum sound. For this particular tune I tried desperately to get an unreverbed jazz thing going and, in turn, got a highly reverbed hip hop sludge. The machine shall pay. I buy the batteries in this house.

The song is part biographical, part urban rap, part fun. Yes, I live on the 3rd rock from the sun and, whatever your leanings towards Mayan prophecy, the 3rd rock is where we have to be for now. Good luck everybody, may 2013 be the year the God's shower you in gold dust. Lyrics to follow...

3rd Rock From The Sun

English man, Italian descent
always been confused with my accent,
born on the East Rand,
friends in West Rand
eat with my left hand,
write with my right.

‘Smoking is bad’ say the people who smoke
some blokes is birds
some birds is blokes,
never going to figure out what’s after death
if we can’t even figure out life.

(Chorus) I’m on the 3rd rock from the sun
stuck in perpetual motion,
I’m not one to come undone
but I’ve been undone by this confusion.

I look for advice that I never use,
give me a solution and I’ll flatly refuse,
say I want silence but I can’t keep quiet,
want to lose weight but I don’t want to diet.

Try and fool the world
with a picture of me
that’s not really me it’s what I want you to see
but if it’s not me then it’s probably not you
so who’s fooling who
yeah, who?

Not enough work people say you’re lazy,
too much work they say you’re working crazy,
rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief,
I need to exorcise these demons
GET ME A PRIEST!
because when you burn out
or run out
or wear out
or fade out
it feels like your body
is not your body at all
but what’s yours is yours
and what’s mine is mine
so when these demons come a-knocking
just slam the door.

My facebook activity
tells my friends I’m lonely
but isn’t that an irony
when I’ve got more friends than ever before.

Some say sweetener is better than sugar
others say sugar is better than sweetener
but as long as it’s sweet what does it matter
what matters is that we’re sweet on one another.