Hollywood Outsider — music and lyrics
Note: MP3 versions of the nine songs from Hollywood Outsider, the studio album, are available encoded at 64 Kbps (mid quality), below. Order your copy of the Hollywood Outsider studio CD today!
Back on Track pt.1
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When the bright night falls
and the stars begin to sing
and the true angels come out
on my mom's tiny diamond ring
as she tucks me under the blanket
and says, "Baby, trust in the King"
as I close my eyes I am thinking
I don't have to fear anything
Moving Away
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I lived in a house
I had my own room
with cowboy wallpaper and a view of the moon
and a view of the mountains
in my own room
I don't remember much
except my dad was nice to be with
at the end of each day
splinters and cigarettes
Dad used to be nice
Hey, Dad used to be nice
Now everything comes clear
in my fuzzy memory
the cracks in the pavement and the blood in the drain
in my razor sharp memory
We're taking my cap gun
just like we should
Mom's packing the boxes and packing them good
the phone's off the hook
I'm loading my cap gun
Hey we're moving out to Hollywood
Hollywood Funk
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Fat rivers of gold run into the
rivers of disbelief
they start in the cliffside houses
and end in Santa Monica beach
We're only yards away from the
sultry satin setting sun
and all we do in California
is tune in when the criminals run
Frankly misbehaving is the
chic hip style they're wearing
on the screen and in the highschool
through the camera in your bedroom
and the fact that you've stopped caring
is a sign that you've adapted to the
fiction that surrounds you
and incites you and defines you
Time marches into the sea
I don't want to be swallowed
doctor fix my face fix my chest fix my hair fix my derriere
knock on me I'm hollow
drugs are not just for sick folks
why beg when you can borrow?
the whitecapped waves are getting high
the sky is falling and I don't know why
the flood is comming it'll reach the sky
I don't want to be swallowed
to the bums by handouts
to the cops by stakeouts
to the politicians' hideouts
to the all night take out
you said you'd be there when I needed you
you said you tried it but it disgusted you
you found a job but then you lost it too
and now you're on your knees in Hollywood
Cigarette Girl
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There's one in every story
the girl with shining eyes
that pierce your concrete heart
like cold rusty rebar
I met her at the Whiskey
bussing tables and washing glasses
she sold cigarettes
and deftly rebuffed drunken passes
I told her that I liked her
and her condescending smiles
the way she smiled so honestly
when she told the biggest lies
I told her that I loved her
and figured that would be the end
the only unexpected thing was
when she said we could be more than friends
The smiling, lying, love of my life
agreed too soon to become my wife
I can't believe what you've done to my world
never date the cigarette girl
The wedding in Las Vegas
though trite and predictably blurry
was the most damned fun I've had in my life
wild wet and furry
Sweethearts on the Strip
wasn't just some girlie show
we sipped fluffy drinks from two long straws
and partied all night in the snow
I told her that I loved her
and I'd be with her until the end
like two trains running on the same damned track
it was all over for me then
Goodbye Dad
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I needed a reason to be here
with your father dying
in this sterile hospital room
and you heart out of tune
and that bruise beneath your eye
and that ring on your finger
getting hi--hi--high
There's nothing here to bite on
that's made by man
to cure our brokenness
bittersweet the poison is
we grew to love the taste
we deadened our senses
getting hi--hi--high
He held my hand
and he called me Son
my heart was cut open
I wanted to run
would it hurt
just this once
on his deathbed
to call him Dad?
You didn't judge or scold me
you didn't criticize
you said the path was mine alone
it's just the weight of the stone
and that my heart was made of gold
and I could do it on my own
you gave me the sky
Goodbye Dad
goodbye Dad
sorry I never knew you
I never took the time
please don't be sad
I never knew what I wanted from you 'till I
met the man who knew all about being a dad
don't be sad
I'll take over from here
goodbye Dad
Dead Singers
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Why is it always the bands that I choose
the singers all die after an album or two
Haunted by the ghost of Mojo Jim and Marvin Gaye
the ghost of Elvis Aaron grabs me and I have to say
I've got my leather pants and my old T-shirt
a three day beard that if you kiss it will hurt
I've got inked up limbs and a blister on my finger
I've always wanted to be a dead singer
Why'd you leave us, Freddy, Janis, Nick and Shannon
geniuses like Hendrix, Buckley, Cobain, Lennon
See me on the TV, see me on your windowpane
soaking in the sunshine and frying in the pouring rain
TV sexy sells you Rodney, Zsa Zsa and O.J.
you may be addicted but tomorrow is another day
If the plane don't, and the sex don't, and the drugs don't kill you
there's more than half a chance a fan will
sweet dreams
Waiting Room
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Any minute she'll call me out
with her sharp sharp nails and her pretty little pout
I'll get up--can't get up
I'll get up--can't get up
I'll look down with my trigonomic frown
at this old magazine I should be putting it down
I'll get up--can't get up
I'll get up--can't get up
I'm tied up here in the psychobabble chair
the talk's all done and there's panic in the air
roll it up--can't get up
roll the sleeve up--can't get up
I don't like the stick but it shure do shine
sweet venom drip from the porcupine spine
I'll get up--can't get up
I'll get up--can't get up
I've got nowhere to go, and this ain't my dime
so I might as well say what's on my mind
I'll get up--can't get up
I'll get up--can't get up
We ditched my dad--he was a mean old bear
and my mom works the Strip with her legs in the air
I'll get up--can't get up
I'll get up--can't get up
And I hit my wife--the pathological liar
and her dying dad cut my heart like a wire
I'll get out--can't get out
I'll get out--can't get out
It should be easy to see--I'm sure you figured out why
I'll spend the rest of my fucked up life getting high
I'll get OUT--can't get OUT
I'll get OUT--can't get OUT
Return to Me
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I traded in my walking shoes
potted for a while next to you
thought this borrowed smile
would take root
put away my homesick blues
found a place to land next to you
protected from the wind
and the rain
But only for a while
the sour surprise
it was you
who couldn't find the rhyme
in what we do
Return
return to me
return to me
At first we tried to hold it in
bleeding at the seams and patched with twine
we couldn't see the stars
couldn't taste the wine
I could hear it calling me
that locomotive whine far away
begging me to go while you're
beggine me to stay
And though I am amazed
we got this far
we got this fine
we're never coming through
this time
Back on Track pt.2
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After the morning has broken
like the proverbial camel's back
and the mean streets have suffered
another unrelenting attack
after the needle delivers the punchline
and I know that the world is on track
let the blood of my ancestors rain down
on my dirty American back
Poem from album jacket
The thing about Hollywood is
this, the capital of our hedonist nation
the pimp, the pusher
the drooling ambassador of entertaindom
the entire smutty candy factory
sits on shaky ground
that God may pitch the whole enchilada into the abyss
as easily as a used tissue into the waste basket
but He does not
© 2002 Aaron C. Lyon
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