Just the Bones - Rich Faschan - Clumsy Fingers

Just the Bones

If you choose to listen—pay attention to the words

Then take some time to think about what it is you’ve heard

There is nothing fancy here—it’s just me alone

It's just me and my guitar—these are just the bones

One Track Mind

I had another thought, but it just left—I looked at you and lost my breath

I can’t focus as I find—I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

Competing answers I can’t find—How to catch my breath and make you mine

I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

I’m sorry but I must admit how distracted I can get

Years ago, I gave up gum—I’m pretty sure you know how come

All in all, I have to say, multi-tasking’s not my way

I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

Competing answers I can’t find—How to catch my breath and make you mine

I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

Yes, ev’ry time I think of you, you take my breath—and leave me blue

I’ve a one-track mind, but you take two, how to catch my breath and dream of you

I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

Competing answers I can’t find—How to catch my breath and make you mine

I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

I had another thought, but it just left—I looked at you and lost my breath

I can’t focus as I find—I’ve got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

I’ve got two tracks playing—two tracks playing—two tracks playing—

I've got two tracks playing in my one-track mind

I Blame Cinderella

You can blame the Hallmark channel, I blame Cinderella for their happy endings, oh, and let me tell ya

A shattered heart is just as ugly in a ballroom dress

The polished shards might glitter, but won’t cut you any less

I don’t believe that fairy tales were meant to do us harm

But there’s no magic potion, pot of gold, no lucky charm

You can wait for the waving of some magic wand

Dream about the future ‘till forever’s here and gone

You can blame the Hallmark channel, I blame Cinderella for the happy endings that they love to tell ya

Nursery rhymes and lullabies—sing ‘em soft and sweet

Ignore the darker meanings that lie in wait beneath

Play ring around the roses, place some egg high on a wall

Rock the baby, hear the bough break, watch that cradle fall

You can blame the Hallmark channel, I blame Cinderella for the well-intended lies that they love to tell ya

But lullaby or fairytale, one thing’s always true

In happily ever after, the after’s up to you

You can blame the Hallmark channel, I blame Cinderella for their happy endings—what more can I tell ya

You can blame the Hallmark channel, I blame Cinderella

I blame Cinderella

Addie’s Got an Attitude

Addie’s got an attitude—lemons aren’t as sour

Edward’s got an ego that exudes his thirst for power

Bryan likes to brag about ev’rything he buys

Tillie never tells the truth, and there the problem lies

People are a mystery, but we’re not meant to solve them

We’re meant to learn to separate the person from the problem

Tony’s got an air about him, thinks he’s really tough

Terri likes to talk and talk and simply won’t shut up

Harry sits back and complains, despite all that he has

Phil is gonna drive you crazy with his phony laugh

People are a mystery, but we’re not meant to solve them

We’re meant to learn to separate the person from the problem

Addie’s got an attitude, Karen’s crabby, Robert’s rude

Patrick’s got too much to prove, Mary’s always in a mood

When they get beneath your skin—rub your patience paper thin,

‘til you feel like popping them, just remember this my friend

People are a mystery, but we’re not meant to solve them

We’re meant to learn to separate the person from the problem

People are a mystery, but we’re not meant to solve them

We’re meant to learn to separate the person, the person, from the problem

I Never Loved You for the First Time

It’s a strange kind of feeling not quite déjà vu, feelings of love mixed with thoughts of you

I’ve a sneaking suspicion that I cannot prove Have I gone crazy, or could it be true?

I never loved you for the first time—I started with the second or third

I never met you in a past life—I whispered in repeated words—I whispered in repeated words

I knew your moves—I’d felt your touch— before we met, we shared this love

Something was strange—so very wrong—It was too soon to feel this strong

I never loved you for the first time—I started with the second or third

I never met you in a past life—I whispered in repeated words—I whispered in repeated words

I don’t believe in a revolving door— But every day I’m a little less sure

For how do I explain—we were in love before?

I never loved you for the first time—I started with the second or third

I never met you in a past life—I whispered in repeated words—I whispered in repeated words

I never loved you for the first time

No, I never loved you for the first time

Nurse Speak

R stands for registered. N stands for nurse

Something that I’ve come to know, but had no clue at first

Thirty years of nurse speak and I finally figured out

what it was exactly that Mom was talkin’ ‘bout

If it ends in oscopy, that means they’re gonna look

by putting something someplace that you wish they hadn’t put

STAT means in a hurry, a restrain is just a strap

Feces sounds sophisticated—it’s a load of crap

If you lived through some disease, then you survived a bout

and if it ends in ectomy, they’re going to take it out

C is for Caesarean, i.v. for intravenous,

pre-me is for pre-mature, post-mortem once you leave us

When rigor mortis settles in, the corpse is getting stiff

Flatulence you’ll never see, but you’ll soon get a whiff

Thirty years of nurse speak and I finally figured out

what it was exactly that Mom was talkin’ ‘bout

Mom said, “Take your medicine, it will make you well”

and it comes in solid form or liquid or in gel

When you take it orally, you put it in your mouth

Then there’s the suppository, you stick further south

Thirty years of nurse speak and I finally figured out

what it was exactly that Mom was talkin’ ‘bout

If it ends in oscopy, that means they’re gonna look

by putting something someplace that you wish they hadn’t put

STAT means in a hurry, a restrain is just a strap

Feces sounds sophisticated—it’s a load of crap

If you lived through some disease, then you survived a bout

and if it ends in ectomy, they’re going to take it out

Yeah, thirty years of nurse speak and I finally figured out,

if it ends in ectomy, they’re going to take it out

Ornery as Hell

I wish I was a mad dog, so I could snarl and bite

And though I’ve got no fangs or fur, you know that I still might

I’d like to tell the whole world to shut its mindless mouth

Your sweet angelic smile, I could do without

Hades, Gahanna—you might just as well

Call it what you like—I’m as ornery as hell

Some say vinegar, others gasoline—

It’s surely not blood that’s pumpin’ through my veins

Blame it on a bad day, or a dozen in a row

Call me cantankerous, as if I didn’t know

Hades, Gahanna—you might just as well

Call it what you like—I’m as ornery as hell

Angry, pissed off, in a foul mood, in a snit

Say it any way you like—I don’t give a spit

Hades, Gahanna—you might just as well

Call it what you like—I’m as ornery as hell

Hades, Gahanna—you can surely tell

God’s honest truth—I’m as ornery as hell

God’s honest truth—I’m as ornery as hell

No Bottom of a Heart

Faraway places that one day we will reach

No planet too distant—no ocean too deep

Each barrel has a bottom, ev’ry lock a key

A limit to how far our human eyes can see

But much like a circle, with no end or start,

There is no bottom—no bottom—of a heart

There is no limit to how much love can hurt

Impossible to say what a simple smile is worth

Though it’s been sworn by right from the start

There is no bottom—no bottom—of a heart

There is no bottom—no bottom—of a heart

How many times have you heard that lie?

How many times have you reached down inside?

Tried one more time—taken one more step

After you swore you had nothin’ left

Life is a lesson for after all

The wiser we get as the further we fall

Faraway places that one day we will reach

No planet too distant—no ocean too deep

Each barrel has a bottom, ev’ry lock a key

A limit to how far our human eyes can see

But much like a circle, with no end or start,

There is no bottom—no bottom—of a heart

There is no bottom—no bottom—of a heart

There is no bottom—no bottom—of a heart

Witch of a Woman

Her shadow’s slowly creeping, like a black cat ‘cross my path

She whispers like and angel, but I hear an evil laugh

I feel her long sharp fingernails drag across my back,

slip between my ribs to steal the heart she doesn’t have

Witch of a woman, though her caldron doesn’t bubble,

Her spells are far more powerful without the toil or trouble

Witch of a woman, wicked, witch of a woman

I hear her evil moans at midnight – feel her voodoo pierce my heart

She blends ecstasy and madness, ‘til I can’t tell them apart

She’s gorgeous as an angel, but with scorched wings she can’t fly

Her hair is black as cinders—devil dances in her eyes

Witch of a woman, though her caldron doesn’t bubble,

Her spells are far more powerful without the toil or trouble

Witch of a woman, wicked, witch of a woman

A sleek seductive potion, she has fluid, catlike moves

Her body starts my blood to boil—she needs no witch’s brew

With her tender touch she tortures me—it never hurts enough

I’m helplessly enchanted by her, wicked, wicked love

Witch of a woman, though her caldron doesn’t bubble,

Her spells are far more powerful without the toil or trouble

Witch of a woman, wicked, witch of a woman

Her shadow’s slowly creeping, like a black cat ‘cross my path

She stole my heart, there is no magic that can get it back

Witch of a woman, wicked, witch of a woman

Witch of a woman, wicked, wicked, witch of a woman

Like It Is

A glimpse of green—embraced in brown—

her eyes, in which I’d surely drown if she didn’t save me, now and then

Her chestnut hair—smooth and long, flowing on, and on, and on

Entangled in thoughts of her again

She gets further ‘neath my skin than any woman’s ever been

Night and day she’s in my dreams—if this ain’t love—well, it sure seems

Like it is—like it is—like it is

I never thought that I could change, but somehow I just can’t explain

the power she has over me

And how she gets further ‘neath my skin than any woman’s ever been

Night and day she’s in my dreams— if this ain’t love—well, it sure seems

Like it is—like it is—like it is

A glimpse of green—embraced in brown—

her eyes, in which I’d surely drown if she didn’t save me, now and then

She gets further ‘neath my skin than any woman’s ever been

Night and day she’s in my dreams— if this ain’t love—well, it sure seems

Like it is—like it is—like it is

Night and day she’s in my dreams— if this ain’t love—well, it sure seems

Like it is—like it is—like it is—like it is

Ghosts in these Woods

There’s a stone foundation overgrown by trees standing where I’m thinking the kitchen used to be

Bits of broken china are mixed amongst the leaves and a doorway with no door lets me see just where it leads

So I follow a path that winds into the woods—deeper and deeper and deeper than I should

There are ghosts in these woods

There are ghosts in these woods and they come out in the day

And they hide behind the tree trunks and beckon me their way

Their fingers engloved in the branch ends of the trees point in all directions for they don’t want me to leave

There are ghosts in these woods—There are ghosts in these woods

There’s a rusty iron ring on a rotten wooden post, but the whinny in the wind is what drives me most

There’s a white mare runnin’ with no saddle and no reins and the freedom that she’s breathin’ might help me explain Why I feel like wading barefoot in a stream, that babbles incoherently, but I know what it means

There are ghosts in these woods

There are ghosts in these woods and they shriek and they moan as they cast their shadows ‘neath the midnight moon And the lone gray wolf has a story to tell and the bat and the screech owl both now it well

There are ghosts in these woods—There are ghosts in these woods

The echo from the mineshaft has a diff’rent voice than mine for the pickaxe by the entrance isn’t all that’s left behind

And I wish it could tell me more than what I know as I grab its handle and I’m standing toe to toe

with a miner who’s holding a greedy lump of gold and a rusty revolver who’s barrel’s still not cold

There are ghosts in these woods

There are ghosts in these woods and they long to be heard, so they shriek and they whistle for they can’t say a word

as they lead you to places to try to spur your mind with thoughts of vengeance or forgiveness they’re still fighting to find There are ghosts in these woods—There are ghosts in these woods—There are ghosts in these woods

Tomorrow I Can Save the World

When I got up this mornin’ my ambition stayed in bed

I had a cup of coffee, and I scratched my weary head

I picked a tune for my guitar, and I just played and played

Tomorrow I can save the world—it’s on its own today

Roof can leak and I don’t care, it’s only when it rains

For now I’ll let the sun shine in and be dry just the same

Lawn can wait another day, there’re taller cares to mow

Today I’ll sit here quite content to watch the flowers grow

I know that there’re bills to pay and heartaches in the news

So I’ll begin with a lament and end off with the blues

But somewhere in the middle, I am bound to dance awhile

As my fingers trace your lips and taste their pretty smile

When I got up this mornin’ my ambition stayed in bed

I had a cup of coffee, and I scratched my weary head

I picked a tune for my guitar, and I just played and played

Tomorrow I can save the world—it’s on its own today

Tomorrow I can save the world—it’s on its own today

A challenge or a burden, as you lift a heaping plate

Sometimes you feel inspired, other times you feel the weight

Should you race ahead and give it ev’rything you can,

or cool your heels and hope that there’s another change of plans?

When I got up this mornin’ my ambition stayed in bed

I had a cup of coffee, and I scratched my weary head

I picked a tune for my guitar, and I just played and played

Tomorrow I can save the world—it’s on its own today

Tomorrow I can save the world—it’s on its own today

Tomorrow I can save the world—it’s on its own today

Dylan from a Distance

A painting of a freak show still drying, as it drips

A surrealist sort of rhythm from smoky metal lips

They temp you down dark alleys to imbibe in their abyss

As you question how deep their quicksand really is

You wonder if these vagabonds are imagined or observed

Or if it really matters once their purpose has been served

For they’ve drawn you like a siren, though their voices aren’t as sweet

And you've paid the price and still you must endlessly repeat

Tell me what the matter is—have I got it wrong?

Tell me what the matter is—how long can this go on?

Mythical or biblical, history or fiction

True to life or merely artistical depiction

A menagerie of misfits meander down the tracks

Debutantes of the streets, felonious diplomats

Derelicts and apparitions, phantoms in the mist

who speak to us in riddles until I must insist

Tell me what the matter is—have I got it wrong?

Tell me what the matter is—how long can this go on?

Out from the stormy shadows a boxer bobs and weaves

Adorned by the wounds and scars that injustice leaves

Convicted and imprisoned—just because

His greatest crime in being the contender that he was

The times right for conclusion of this psychedelic trip

But the drugs will not release you from their hallucinatory grip

So a cavalcade of creatures brazenly parade

Without reason or direction but somehow, find their way

Tell me what the matter is—have I got it wrong?

Tell me what the matter is—how long can this go on?

A poet and a painter of life’s seedy city streets

And its subterranean passageways whose refuge lies beneath

A king who’s dressed in tatters with a tin can for a crown

You can’t help but ogle—the circus is in town

Tell me what the matter is—have I got it wrong?

Tell me what the matter is—how long can this go on?

Tell me what the matter is—have I got it wrong?

Tell me what the matter is how long can this go

Dylan, from a distance, just seems to babble on

Tell me what the matter is—how long can this on?

Stick in the Mud

My wife will tell you, that I have no phone—

That’s not really true there are three of them I own

But do not try to text me—you will need to call—

all of my phones are wired into to wall

I can be real stubborn—and you ought to know—once I dig my heels in, I will not let go

When my minds made up—I’m not about to budge—I’m the definition of a stick in the mud

You know I hate to travel, but let’s make it clear—

I’m good once I get there, so pull me by the ear

If you look on Facebook—you won’t find me there—

I am anti-social—Ask me if I care

I can be real stubborn—and you ought to know—once I dig my heels in, I will not let go

When my minds made up—I’m not about to budge—I’m the definition of a stick in the mud

I’m the definition of a stick in the mud

I'm part mule and I’m part dinosaur—

I like things much better the way they were before

Well-built, reliable, solid to the core

I can be real stubborn—and you ought to know—once I dig my heels in, I will not let go

When my minds made up—I’m not about to budge—I’m the definition of a stick in the mud

I’m the definition of a stick in the mud

The Percocet Performances

You know that I was famous—famously mistaken

Their smiles were not for me, it was the drugs that they were taking

I went to Kessler rehab—I went there to see

My mom who had an operation to replace her knee

I took my guitar to play a couple songs

A worker overheard me, and it wasn’t very long

‘til once a month I’d go there to perform for free

The patients wheeled or hobbled in—how bad could I be?

The Percocet Performances—There isn’t any doubt

Percocet Performances—I’d be worse without

The Percocet Performances are what it’s all about

It felt good to look out and see ‘em smile and grin

until I hit a sour and then the crowd would thin

What hurt the most is when they’d roll out and explain

“I’m sorry that I have to leave, I’m in too much pain”

The Percocet Performances—There isn’t any doubt

The Percocet Performances—I’d be worse without

The Percocet Performances are what it’s all about

So, if you feel the need to leave, please come up with something

Like you think you left the stove on, or you left the water running

It really doesn’t matter how contrived or lame

ll I ask, if you must go, is that you don’t proclaim

“I’m sorry that I have to leave, I’m in too much pain”

You know that I was famous—famously mistaken

Their smiles were not for me, it was the Percocet they’d taken

Their smiles were not for me, it was the Percocet they’d taken