Drink to your Name

Take your key I'm on my way gimme a smile for the road
the sex was always awesome but the dinners were too cold

keep my number in your phone I'll put your face on a card
I'll drink fondly to your name with every shot at the bar



Drink to your body and your jacket and the way you take your chair
I loved the sweat drops and the candles and the tangles in your hair


Every time I made a joke you got a better line on me
Thought I had you figured out I did not know what we could be


Shot for the sugar in the morning and the poison late at night
and the shocking show of anger right when you're about to cry


Drink to the movies and our music and the racing games we played
and to secret stubborn strength hidden by icy outer shades



There was nowhere you could hide but always things I couldn't see
always finding parts of you that were fantastic mysteries


I love the way you hold your eyes and the way you do your hair
you're a bitch, you're a goddess, you're the reason I despair




The real reason I wrote this song is I was practicing my guitar and didn't feel like working on these chord forms things and started just messing around.  These lyrics are intended to be sung all in one breath, to some weird catchy song that I can't remember.  They are about the end of a fictional relationship that I never had, but which was yet based on a relationship I did have once, with a girl who I stayed up until 5 am with trading text messages that had an average of 10 minute round-trip latencies before falling asleep and getting up early this morning to go skiing in heavy, melting moguls that destroyed my quads.  I want to post these lyrics on facebook so that girls I am acquaintances ("facebook friends") with will read it and think I am one of those sensitive guys in romantic comedies.  Unfortunately, this girl would read them too, so, that's out.  Oh, but back to the...this stuff:

Its easy to look back and be all like, "yeah I should have done this."  Instead of what you actually did.  That works for some people.  Some people collect failures, like the rejection notices Stephen King used to hang on an old nail or something, and that works for them.  Maybe it makes the final success all the sweeter.

Another way you can look at it though, is what would have happened if you hadn't done anything. What if you had stayed home that night?  What if you had given up?  What if you hadn't taken the enormous risk?  Maybe everyone does have that one mistake they made where it really would have been better if they stayed home.  But all the others?  The alternative is to have had nothing all along.  So the next time I see the ghosts of my past in the in my doorway, here to remind me of what I'm missing out on, I'll remember that they are better than nothing.

If fact, the best of those memories were unplanned and unexpected.  Shots in the dark.  No amount of planning or analysis could recreate them.  I know because I've tried.

An Orphan's Silent Night

My shoes are like soaked from the rain...so maybe I'm just in a bad mood.  Whatever the case, I was made aware of this song, and as I was reading the lyrics, I realized that I actually don't owe my fucking freedom to anyone in the U.S. military, especially if they volunteered.  So I banged this out in like 30 minutes:




 An Orphan's Silent Night

Twas the night before Christmas, he cried all alone
in a bombed out ruin of dust and stone
I'd come down the chimmney with presents to give
and to check on the family in this home that did live

I looked all about, no family nor tree
just "collateral" damage, as far as I'd see
with refuse and blood, and holes of all kinds
a sober thought came through my mind

for this house was different, it was dark and dreary
the work of a modern soldier*, that I could see clearly
the boy lay in tears, silent, alone
curled up on the floor of what used to be home

the face was so tortured, the room in such disorder
it had been visited recently by a U.S. soldier
was this the great fight, of which I'd read?
protecting our freedom, or just staying ahead?

I realized the families I saw this night
lost their lives to stray bullets, "bad intel" in the fight
on the other side of the world, children will play
and grownups would celebrate a bright christmas day

they'll enjoy privilege and freedom this year
ignorant of the harm caused to the child curled up here
I couldn't help wonder how many died alone
on a warm christmas eve, killed in their homes

the very thought brought a tear to my eye
I dropped to my knees and started to cry
the kid looked at me and he implored:
santa, go away, I'm a Christian no more

the americans killed everyone that I hold dear
they droped a big bomb at the wedding this year
I want no part of their God or their "freedom"
the last day of my life will be the day that I kill them

the boy rolled over, and fell into sleep
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep
jacking off to ideals--thats fun--but he's right
its not a Merry Christmas for everyone this night




*"modern soldier" is meant to describe only soldiers in wars strictly after the Korean and Vietnam wars, of which I have not settled on a firm opinion.

Also, on a related topic:  http://verydemotivational.memebase.com/2010/12/09/demotivational-posters-mission-accomplished/ 

Also:  awesome (according to the movie the main engines of the shuttle burn oxygen and hydrogen, forming water vapor, making those engines greener than your car)

The Programmer

Again, not that original.



The Programmer



on a cold winter's evenin
on a red eye bound for nowhere
met up with th' programmer
we were both to cramped to sleep

so we took turns a starin
at the fat guy 'cross the ailse
till boredom overtook us
and we began to chat




she said son I've made my life
out of solving peoples problems
knowing how to model
the question in their hands

so if you don't mind me sayin
you're wasting all that hardware
for a taste of your Captain
I'll give you some advice




so i handed her the bottle
and she took it in one swallow
then she closed her notebook
and fumbled for the light

the cabin lights went dim
and her face was lost in shadow
said if your gonna hack the gibson
you gotta learn to hack it right




you gotta know how to dream it
know how to speak it
know how to write it out
and when its wrong, cause every

problem is a nail
when all you got's a hammer
you best spend your time a learnin
when the program's done




now A good coder knows
the secret to the writing
is knowing what to question
and learnin on your feet, cause every

language is a winner, and every
language is a loser
don't give In to The religion
its all turing com-plete




so when she'd finished talkin
she turned on her computer
rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and
forgot I was there

and somewhere in the darkness
the fat man started snoring
but in those final words I found
a method I could keep




you gotta know how to dream it
know how to speak it
know how to write it out
and when its wrong, cause

every problem is a nail
when all you got's a hammer
you best spend your time a learnin
when the program's done




#....then the plane landed in Chicago and we made out in a bar.

Song of the Rocket Launcher

This past weekend I managed to find a Unreal Tournament disc while purchasing a new power supply. My linux box is running again, and I spent most of the weekend playing UT classic. Distant memories flooded back, as I found myself in intense competition with the second lowest difficulty setting (my skills atrophied). Still, it filled me with such passion...maybe it was a mistake to leave computer games behind. Anyway, I came up with some lyrics. They are to the tune of 7 Days to the Wolves, by Nightwish. Also, FYI: the rocket launcher is not my favorite weapon, the flak cannon is. However I don't think I could write two versus about the flak cannon.

Song of the Rocket Launcher

this weapon, and I, are one
this mid range king, ere I defend
can you hear the rocket launchers song
on the plains of death....

boom! six rockets to the face
do you see them spread like wings
six rockets in a cluster
my little angels of fire
your rampage ends in death


this is my armament of choice
my time and health are the sacrifice
choke them in, a corridor, or
death from above....


boom! six rockets to the face
do you see them spread like wings
six rockets in a cluster
my little angels of fire
your rampage ends in death



(bridge)
load the rockets fast
grab the flag, running
take the path less travelled by
make your way back home
let every rocket loose!

boom! six rockets to the face
do you see them spread like wings
six rockets in a cluster
my little angels of fire
your rampage ends in death

boom! six rockets to the face
I fragged your whole team at once
six rockets in a cluster
my little angels of fire
our victory, your death



Seriously if you haven't played Unreal Tournament Classic, you need to go buy a copy and install it and play with the rocket launcer. It really is beautiful. Especially if you fire six rockets while strafing.

Now I just need to find a hot girl to sing it for me. I wonder if I could acquire the actual tracks for 7 days to the wolves and just record a new vocal track? Or maybe eliminate the vocals from the song? Start with a Karaoke version? Sadly, I don't think many karaoke DJs have Nightwish.

I also learned to play The Gambler, by Kenny Rogers. I'm not great, but good enough. You may not know this, but The Gambler doesn't make for a good lullaby-type song. I found that out last year. ::sigh::

Tarja rhymes with....

I have decided I should try writing for the kind of songs where the lyrics don't matter.

did you ever hear what I told you?
did you ever read what I wrote you?
did you ever listen to the words we played?
did you ever let in what the words said?

did we get this far just to feel your hate
did we play to become only pawns in the game

That wasn't it. Those were the lyrics for Bye Bye Beautiful, an awesome song by a band called Nightwish. Well...the song might not be so awesome, because i just realized it could be about the bands former (and awesome) lead singer Tarja. But I digress. Some of you may not have heard of nightwish. What you need to know is that this band is so awesome, the fact that I listen to them excuses me for liking nickelback and from any obligation to care about the beatles. Yeah, they're that awesome (nightwish, not necessarily the beatles). The only thing better than making out while listening to Nightwish would be having sex while listening to Nightwish, on a bed covered with rose petals, in the moonlight, on a mostly abandoned beach that still has one bar that serves only captain, with dangerous velociraptors lurking in the bush. Unfortunately I haven't had the pleasure of doing either, but I hope to before I die or turn 30. Oh, and Nightwish has awesome lyrics. And I don't know if they are metal or not. If you really needed to know I'm sure you could get a bunch of respectful, well-reasoned opinions on the subject from the nice people that comment on youtube videos.

Anyway, I usually get writers block when I try to write lyrics because I can't think of anything good. But that doesn't matter when you write for a genre where most people are screaming unitelligibly. So I deliberately wrote something I wouldn't be proud of. The melody for the verse doesnt matter because its meant to be shouted. The melody for the chorus is some random tune in my head that reminds me of but is different from the phantom of the opera. And then you add distortion, and you have a metal song. I love distortion.





#
# mirror of my rage
#
#
# 2010-04-20
#
#

lead me
with your eyes
in the vine
twist my life
#hide my lines
muffled cries
scar my hide
feed my lies
to suite your wishes


can you restore my wrath
can you redeem my wasted wages
when you see beyond the time
you are the mirror of my rage


boom
let me out
salt my scars
face the risk
show your eyes
endless tears
guide my fears
to suite your hunger


can you restore my wrath
can you redeem my wasted wages
when you see beyond the time
you are the mirror of my rage

take what
you want
i hide
no thing
from you
i ask
only

will you restore my wrath
will you redeem my wasted wages
when you look to the end of time will
you be the mirror of my rage

I didn't really want to share this with you

...but I'm leaving work and I don't want to stick it anywhere else. It is probably the first set of lyrics in ten years that wasn't written about some girl.

we were young
easy to mesmerize with flashing lights

but the world moved on, those lights dimmed
and I saw the sun behind me

there's more to this than we were told
more to truth than we can hold

I have no time left
to get off on the details

I'm giving chase to what I missed
and you're still tracing the same lines

the old ways are dead, the world bought out
by classless machines

there is nothing left for you and me
there is nothing in between

Also, my flying club purchased a new place, a Diamond DA-40XL. The important details are that it is a low wing, somewhat funny looking, uses a constant speed prop (which means I can't fly it) and is only marginally faster than a Cessna anyway (135 kt cruise, according to the email).

I think my flying club should purchase a prop jet capable of 330 kt. Then I could fly myself to Philly in like 5 hours.