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In A Grid

Instrumental

Jeff Phelps: keyboards

Living By Our Whims

All good things must end
No living by my whims
It's just the bag I'm in
I must climb out
Every now and then

It cannot happen here
I'd sooner disappear
I made this up for you
There is no time of day
There is no special way
I guarantee my friend to you it's true

That all good things must end
No living by your whims
It's just the bag your in
You must climb out
Every now and then

What's with the atmosphere
They're all uptight in here
I think I'll get some air
There is no place to stay
Where they don't get that way
Sometimes I think nobody cares, who cares!

That all good things must end
No living by our whims
It's just the bag we're in
We must climb out
Every now and then

Jeff Phelps: guitars, keyboards, maracas, vocals

Anybody's List

You could be on anybody's list
Or simply choose to exist
I never think about the time
Too busy stopping on a dime
You could be on anybody's list

Could you spin around just like a top
And keep your head like you were stopped
Don't ever try to be complex
You won't get where you're going next
Could you spin around just like a top

You could be the guy in ZZ Top
With no beard
And what's weird is his last name's Beard
You could be on anybody’s list

Jeff Phelps: guitars, bass, vocals
Dave Moe: drums

I Want This Song To Make You Puke

Now if you ever find yourself on a painful Journey
You wish you were throwing Tommy Shaw and Dennis DeYoung of Styx
Out through a Plexiglas window as if they were as small as baseballs
Don't tell me to don't stop believing,
I've got too much time on my hands

Hit the bong and sing along
It won't long before you're feeling wrong
I want this song to make you puke
And look at me when I talk to...

Sometimes I imagine myself living on Sesame Street with Bert & Ernie
And I am making a special point to mention they have much different heads
Because they are arranged like cones in a polydiagonal juxtaposition
But Big Bird always seems to take offense to this
Due to the fact that they are friends

A board came flying up and hit my face
A cord attached to ships in outer space
Transmitting sound waves that would make our brains explode

I once became obsessed with obtaining the high score
On this Donkey Kong machine I was imagining was looking at me funny
So instead I wheeled it out into the busy street which was outside
And I watched a big truck run into it and it smashed it into a thousand pieces
And I've never been so happy in my life

Jeff Phelps: bass, keyboards, maracas, vocals
Dave Moe: guitars, drums

Now That I Know What You're Not

In my window pane brain
The ice reflects the light
From your on-coming train of thought
Now that I know what you're not

Such a dark shadow mind
Your hand has ripped the heart
From my chest. I can't find forgot
Now that I know what you're not

I refuse to play the fool
That you hang by your thread
I walked away to keep my cool
But instead lost my head

I could chase you all day
A butterfly with its wings
Always flying away, too hot!
Now that I know what you're not

I could learn all of your rules
That you change in your head
And slowly die like all of the fools
With happiness until I'm dead

Maybe somewhere in dreams
You'll be hearing my words
And you'll know what they mean a lot
Now that I know what you're not

Jeff Phelps: guitar, keyboards, organ, bass, vocals
Dave Moe: lead guitar, slide guitar, mandolin, drums

Easy, Popeye

You make it to the brakes
But you still smash into a tree
We walk into our walls
All while pretending to be free

If you feel the cold wind blow
You got to act like you got no soul
Easy, Popeye
The world is not out to get you
Oh no! (Oh yes!)

Don't count the grains of sand
'Cause you will get infinity
And once you have enough
The point is very hard to see

No one wants to take your things away
No one will cloudy up your day

Jeff Phelps: keyboards, guitar, vocals

Whose Shells By The Sea Are These?

Instrumental

Jeff Phelps: keyboards, guitars

All Join Hands

All join hands
Please don't stand when you are told
To sit and pray
And waste your time away

On more demands
On your hands and knees you scream,
"God, please!
Take me away
Not one more day of..."

Jeff Phelps: guitars, keyboards, maracas, vocals

TV

Sit at home watching TV
You get angry
So don't hate me
For what I'm 'bout to say
It's gonna be OK

But don't ya ever get lonely
You're not the only
Don't have to phone me
I don't know what to say
So have a nice day

When I find some piece of mind
I'm gonna search for ways
To bend the rules of time
Don't turn your head to see behind
If you want to seek the truth
And reason with the rhyme

Jeff Phelps: keyboards, guitars, vocals
Dave Moe: mandolin

The Lines I Read

I forgot to blue
I forgot to green
I forgot I mean
The words I said in between
The lines I read in that scene

I forgot to do
I forgot to be
I forgot to see
The world as always should be
At least according to me

Look through your opera glasses
See the world in a different way
Make time move like molasses
So everything's done all in one day

Jeff Phelps: bass, guitar, various percussion, keyboards, vocals
Dave Moe: lead guitar
Jeff Hyde: backing vocals

What I Used To See

With every molecule
Admit we play the fool
'Cause if we don't we'll feel the burn
I hope someday we finally learn

The best folks are the ones
Who don't care what they ain't
No one should see stars
And think they're going to faint
That's one thing that I've
Begun to really hate
All your bloody paint
Is clouding up my sky
And the real estate ain't quite
What it used to be
Quite what I used to see

When we learn to forgive
We'll start to really live
An eye for an eye is in our minds
One day we'll wake to see we're blind

And I'm not quite who I used to be
Quite who I used to be
And you're not quite who I used to see
Quite who I used to see

Jeff Phelps: guitars, bass, organ, moog, drums, vocals
Dave Moe: drums, various percussion

Time Unwinds

In my heart
In my mind
In a place that's very, very hard to find
But it's OK
Yeah, it's alright
'Cause there's nobody going to mess me up tonight

Time unwinds your clock
It's so clean
It runs behind

Who I love
Or who I hate
It doesn't matter; you'd rather see me scribble than paint
So what I think
Or how I pray
It doesn't make no difference, someone's gonna pay

Jeff Phelps: guitars, keyboards, vocals

They're Coming To Get You

They're coming to get you
To save the day
While on their way

I'm not agreeing with no one
I'm not starting no fights
But I don't know anybody
Who likes staring into these lights
It's not that I'm feeling hopeless
It's not that I hate your guts
But I thought I'd get some answers
See if I knew what's what

No sense believing in something
No sense if you can't see
'Cause I don't know anybody
Who is any different from me
So I don't feel like I'm special
Don't think I'm fit for a crown
I feel my head and it's spinning
Whenever I look down

Jeff Phelps: keyboards, guitars, maracas, vocals