TAROT
© 1998 Seth Horan, BMI
This song really gets the pagan coffeehouse rugrats cheering—their little occult-love-anthem. It’s really not very deeply rooted in any ritualistic beliefs on my part though; it’s just a song about Sarah! I attempted to erase her from my mind when I left Miami and pretend I didn’t care about her… yeah, right. Six months later I’m in her South Miami bedroom and she’s got this Queen of Cups in her hand and she’s just giving me this LOOK….
Tried not to get
too sentimental;
not to be too instrumental in her life.
My attention rarely wanders and I’m
not too keen on squandering my time.
I can’t see the
point in distance so I’m
throwing up resistance but I’m losing the fight…
Now it would seem I’ve got a problem, ‘cause
I’ve always got her picture on my mind…
Crazy maybe, but
it’s almost like she knows it’s her…
I’m petrified that she could leave my life, so
I don’t say a word.
I call myself a
skeptic even though my mind’s not narrow,
but I’ll put on my poker-face every time I see her dealing Tarot.
Fight; fighting
impossible attraction…
I just won’t face any facts and keep her picture out of sight.
Hate; hate how helplessly I’m falling;
I’m deliberately not calling but
it doesn’t make it right.
Fine. I finally made some time to see
her;
maybe now I’ll have to free myself or leave this all behind.
Fright. Frightened when we’re all alone
and she pulls out
that deck and I’ve no place to hide…
Pictures forming
patterns;
I’ve got to finish what I start.
Her face is changing every time she turns another card…
Pictures forming
patterns;
Now here’s where this gets hard:
Her face is changing now ‘cause she can see inside my heart…
Crazy maybe, but
it’s almost like she knows it’s her…
Petrified that she can read my mind, so
I don’t say a word.
I call myself a
skeptic even though my mind’s not narrow,
but I put on my poker-face every time I see her dealing
Tarot.
WORDS
©2000 Seth Horan, BMI
This song was very painful to write. I wrote it as a way of dealing with
the failing relationship I was in; very matter-of-fact and bluntly listing
problems. The song was originally
more hopeful, as I tried re-uniting with my girlfriend to work things
out (thusly the “maybe one day I will”-references), and I was considering
shelving it altogether, but nothing changed at all, and a year later I
was right back at the song’s first line…
Ignoring everything
wrong with this love hasn’t changed it
and more often than not’s brought it all crashing down.
And we could look
in the books and say,
“Here; this explains it,”
and smile as if it’s that easy to turn things around…
You say you’ll
never agree with the things I believe in
and everyone in your life has burdened you with their doubt.
You say beliefs aren’t a good enough reason for leaving, and I say: It seems we only survived ‘cause
we shut the world out.
But what’s
the use in complication if she’s already a world away…
And what’s the use in conversation when she doesn’t have a thing to
say,
except for, “You didn’t give me a good enough reason for listening.
“You didn’t say what I wanted to hear.”
Well if I could
find the words, maybe one day I will.
If we could
just speak our minds, everything could be so clear.
If only we didn’t have all this baggage to hide…
I’m finally thinking
that maybe there’s something to know here (all alone here)
‘Cause keeping everything buried makes me feel less alive.
(chorus)
This is a really simple song about
being there for someone you love.
Aww, come on, I’m a sap at heart.
Whenever I’m cold
inside she’s warm for me,
Whenever I trap myself her smile can set me free.
She rescues me from wrapping myself in frustration;
That’s what she does for me.
I couldn’t let
compliments go to my head,
I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping; stood there dumb instead.
I suddenly lost myself in silent fascination;
That’s what she does for me.
What she does for
me: reminds me what it means to trust,
What she does for me: she holds me when I can’t stand
up,
What she does for me: she
heals me when I need to feel,
What she does for me: erase my past; every last bad memory…
©2000 Seth Horan, BMI
This one moves along really fast, and really throws people who’ve only caught bits and pieces of it. An old bandmate of mine fell in love with a girl who had a boyfriend away at college. He spent every waking moment with her, and it was glaringly obvious they were crazy about each other. However, when her boyfriend came home for break, she was nowhere to be found. He left again, and suddenly she was on my bandmate’s arm again. It wasn’t really my place to butt in, but I did anyway… I took her aside and told her what I thought of her, but before I did, I wrote this song.
[The second verse makes reference to the ‘Third Party Law’—most people don’t know what that means. It is defined as: “A third party must be present and unknown in every quarrel for a conflict to exist”—it’s a term I came across while reading about Scientology, and it makes a lot of sense. I’ve heard plenty of talk about Scientology, but nobody actually seems to KNOW anything about it… so I’ve included a link on the lyric to its official definition for those who need clarification. Viva la internet.]
Feels as tension taken.
No respect is needed.
I don’t have to fake this toothy grimace on my face.
He’ll take the kiss so
be gentle. He’ll trade
his peace
for the chance that a week from now, you won’t be
more convenient somewhere else…
But still,
When Michael’s home, will
you disappear until he’s gone again?
When Michael’s home, you’ll just create your little,
happy world again…
When Michael’s home, pretend your feelings never left and then when
Michael’s gone,
It’s so convenient having friends who understand.
Third party law
tells me I’m only causing trouble here,
but I’m not one to bend and let you hypnotize my friend.
Now, you only get so many
chances in your lifetime,
but you just deal with what you’re sent; you go and you
make yourself content.
I didn’t come here to discuss
your fate or your karmic debt,
but can’t you see it every time you’re staring in his eyes?
When Michael’s home, will
you disappear until he’s gone again?
When Michael’s home, you’ll just create your little,
happy world again…
When Michael’s home, pretend your feelings never left and then when
Michael’s gone,
It’s so convenient having friends…
But don’t think that
I’m one-sided and blind;
I can see you’re torn.
But can you keep up this façade much longer
than you can keep your word to either man?
To be a lover; to be a
friend…. too bad it had to be so hard
to learn how things like this aren’t easy for friends to understand.
(chorus)
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is a hoax. For that matter, so is Attention
Deficit Disorder. The American
Psychiatric Association made them up so the pharmaceutical companies it
has a vested interest in could make a killing drugging a few million children
with dangerous narcotics. The information in the bridge of
this song was taken from a report on the drug Ritalin from jewishworldreview.com,
and I can't legally reprint it here, but
If
you could go a little easy on me,
I’ve been diagnosed with disability; Doctor said so.
I know I’m sick on his authority. What is he givin’
me:
Edible remedy. He
said so….
There’s no supervision necessary; I just take my prescription regularly…
‘Cause they said so…
Doctors said so; said that:
Just a spoonful of sugar helps that medicine
go down.
Just a spoonful of sugar will help that medicine take you down…
And
‘cause I’m damaged doesn’t mean I don’t try;
I just get different rules to live my life by, ‘cause they said so.
I heard I need a cure that money can’t buy… well, whoever told me that
told me a lie… 'cause
they said so.
When I relapse they make my dosage high;
Now life’s a sweet chemical-lullabye, ‘cause they said so…
Doctors said so; said that:
Just a spoonful of sugar helps that medicine
go down.
Just a spoonful of sugar will help that medicine take you down…
(bridge)
So,
if you could go a little easy on me,
I’ve been diagnosed with disability; Doctor said so.
A million people out there just like me;
Give us some time we’ll be majority...
Least they said so…
Doctors said so, said that:
Just a spoonful of sugar helps that medicine
go down.
Just a spoonful of sugar will help that medicine take you down.
Enjoy. :)
Seaside, but
the dry spell won’t stop kicking
sand in my face; what a lonely place this time of year…
All along, water at my feet keeps licking…
I want to jump right in, but I forgot how to swim, I fear.
Big clouds
rolling in, all the sudden, from nowhere;
to my surprise—a set of gorgeous eyes, and they’re
good to go.
And I don’t
even know if I remember how to throw on my raincoat…
“Ain’t your concern,” she said, “you better hop in the boat and ROW…”
I can’t believe
I’m complaining; I guess it just goes to show
that you can have too much of a good thing, maybe,
and when it rains it pours.
I’m saturated…
I can’t believe I’m complaining…
Someone slap me; I must be dreaming.
Well, I’m a world away, back in the day, down on the farm…
I want to sow my oats but my milkmaid, she won’t stop creaming…
Dunk for the clam and this square dance’s never gonna leave the barn…
Now I spend
my days drenched in the ocean.
I’d heart-attack if I went back out on the sand…
(dry land)
I get worried
that she’s never gonna show emotion, but at this time, well that’s just
fine if that’s where I stand.
I can’t believe
I’m complaining…
(chorus)
Here’s this phenomenon: If someone isn’t telling you something,
they’re also the first person to openly criticize you or start finding
faults with you. Think about
it. Ironically, this song
was written over the course of three different bands, all of which broke
up for this exact reason. I dedicate it to all parties involved.
Now just for a second, off of the record,
‘cause I wouldn’t dare
To go and tell you your place, except in maybe this case, ‘cause I don’t
think you’re aware
Of this tendency you have to pick at me; then you’re quick to play careful
and smile.
Are you hiding something? Well, give
that shovel a swing; you’ll be carrying it for quite awhile…
What you don’t say will give you this
reason to sound the alarm on me.
What you don’t say will be all of what’s left when we are no longer
“we”.
Now just in that moment, so secure that
you own it, well why didn’t you win?
You keep it under your hat; I knew all along, does that explain the
trouble you’re in?
How’s that make you feel? Is
your life less real?
No more wool can you pull over eyes…
Are you hiding something? That shovel don’t mean a thing now
that I can see past these lies…
What you don’t say will give you this
reason to sound the alarm on me.
What you don’t say will be all of what’s left when we are no longer
“we”.
Now this fable ain’t so stable, so try
to tie this all back down
And when it fails, at least you’re able to make up things to lie about.
(chorus)
All
lyrics by Seth Horan
All rights reserved, but if you'd like to reprint them, it's cool as
long as you add the appropriate credit. :]
Copyright © 2005 Seth Horan