Thanasimos
02-01-2009, 02:15 PM
Well, my first real performance, anyhow. The other two times I was paid to go up and embarrass myself. I went up at an open mic with a few friends this last Friday:
Audio's all nice and NSFW, and the video is probably NSFW, because the word "Skeet" is featured prominently on screen.
9FkvTzzWTVE
For the record, I'm on the camera's left doing the English reading, because I wrote it. I should also add that my voice is a bit torn up there from coughing all day, so it's not as sexy and deep as it could be. :(
I understand it gets a little hard to understand at points, so here's the full transcript of my part. Sadly, the Spanish translation was made pen and paper, so no hopes of getting that up.
[Expand this for the full poem]
"Well, last time I was up here, I got that whole stage fright thing going, and that was no good, really, because I choked. And I don’t want to choke, so I’m up here again – for free (and that’s a first) – because I don’t like choking. In fact, over break, I asked my dad, “Pops, I choked on stage – how do I not do that?” and he gave me some advice that I did follow: He told me, “Well, son, you gotta suck a lotta dick.” So I told one of my friends what my dad told me, and he looked at me and said, “Dude, your dad is an asshole.” So I hauled off and punched him in the face. And when he was unconscious, I sucked his dick. Yeah, I showed him. Anyhow, I hope my dad’s idea worked – here we go!
Well, we all know people that make bad decisions.
I've made some, you've made some
Every man and woman down to the last one
Has screwed up. At least once.
And that’s the natural way of things, as far as I can tell
Yes, common, low-brow, and annoying as hell
But laws of nature are just that, laws – obey
Or so I think when I make a mistake
Now, I have for you a story today about a man I know
His tuxedos are oil and his hair is snow
He made some mistakes once, big and bold
Yeah, and his mistakes went and changed the world
A status quo gone in a single man’s lifetime
‘Cause of one mistake he made, like yours or like mine
Since then it’s been decades and he’s decrepit and old
But here’s that story ‘bout him and flying gold
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you go back long enough, nearbouts 1947
He was a young man, and a brave'un
And he had hisself a master plan:
Like all young men, with the words, “I can!”
And he could, he planned, maybe archaeology
So he went to school and got his degree
A bachelors or masters’ or something – I forget
But it wasn’t much use to him on the market
So he was gonna go out into the world and learn hisself some history
And air it out for all else so they could see
Or maybe he’d discover something surreal and profound
Regardless, he’d tell the world what he found
And with those pure plans and a purer heart
He went out into the world to get his start
But all that changed, yeah, July o' '47
Roswell -- Roswell happened
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now, we've all heard the story of Roswell before, I think
But I want to get us on the same page so you're --
You're gonna have to listen just one more time
While I dust off your memory and give it a shine
Something crashed in a field back then, maybe it was alien
People said it was, go'ment said t'wern't and then
Whole issue kinda flared up, was covered up, smothered up
Officials were buttered up and deals were cut
And the world stopped turning or some such
But really it did keep turning, indeed, nothing much
Changed through all of that, it was almost insignificant
The cover page of the century was still short some spunk
But people were still intrigued, and one more so than others
Someone we’ve introduced, somebody familiar
But he dug and dug and his results were smothered
Still, he tried and tried to find out about those saucers
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
So silence kept and no one now alive knows what then happened
But one man livin now did know, way back then
Kinda. He thought about it, and figured it all out:
Aliens really did crash, evidence lent no doubt
And the government even managed to recover the craft
Dug it out of its crater and then packed
Away under cover of darkness – but why?
Did they take it apart to find out how it flied?
No, the coverup was where everything went wrong
If we'd taken a ship apart for science, why lie for so long?
What's wrong with saying, "We's got some alien technology"
If the world knows we've got big guns, they won't mess with us, see?
It’d be the end of the Cold War in the blink of an eye
If we told them we had science sent down from the sky.
But what happened? Did they think that we would be afraid
That one day those same aliens would come down on raids?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The core of it, he decided, was nothing so pure
No thinking 'bout preventing hysteria and fear
They done something worse, they done something cold
Uncle Sam done sold his science for his gold.
Yeah, that flying saucer was something special
'Cause the only saucers like that were saucers royal -- gold
Gold, pure as any, more carats than a rabbit hole
Like the plates in king's halls in the days of old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now in 'Merica, when people don't trust the gov'ment
One or the other's gotta go, and the people won't hear it
And the gov'ment knew just what people would think
If they knew the Prez took science and ran it down the sink
So when they did it they made sure that nobody knew
They spread lies and stories about weather balloons
Because they made damn sure that nobody could tell
That they'd sliced and diced that space ship, to market, to sell
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
So our man, he picked hisself up a new task
Wherein he'd make some money and he’d make it fast
'Cause the only way he would ever find out 'bout them aliens
Was to collect up all the gold and put it together again
Now he knew he wouldn’t know right off
Whether gold was the gold he wanted or not,
So he figured, he’d some get gold first to figure it out
Yeah, he’d get some and see what this alien gold was all about
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
It didn’t take him long to get some gold goods,
He worked his dayjob and hoarded what he could
Bought a little gold here and a little more there
And took it into a lab and scienced it to bare
The secrets that it held, but there were none the gold revealed
So he went and made more money to try again “for real”
And in the end he figured he’d need more gold than he thought
More, certainly, than he could make with his dayjob
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
So he came up with a new job, one that would use his old shovel
He bought a little land and dug for some oil
Oil, that black gold dug from the depths of hell
But it would sell for lots of money and that would sure help
But one thing that went wrong is, he got too caught up in his work
While his friends were disappearing, one after another
For some he was too rich, and others too cruel
And before he knew it he was lonely and old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And what’s more, he forgot something important
He worked so hard for his gold he forgot why he needed it
To bathe in? To shine? To be rich for money’s sake?
And to get there, how many friends did it take?
It took all of them, used ‘em up ‘til they were gone
All the time there were less and then there were none
So he went off and sold his purpose for cash
Because his life came to revolve around his gold stash
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Now since then, you’ve probably seen him on TV and such
Very rich man, so if you haven’t you’re out of touch
But that’s not the point of this story, not for a second:
The ham-handed moral is that you should keep sight of your goals
‘Cause you go blind like this old fool did and you’ll lose out
And if you lose sight of your goals, you lose what life is all about
And then you’re just rich, rich and soulless,
Even though you coulda lived flawless
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
But morals aside, here’s one thing to take home:
He was wrong. Dead wrong. Probably.
So next time you have a dumb fucking idea,
Like golden flying saucers
Shoot yourself now and save us the trouble
Of living under your thumb in the future.
Please.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Opinions?
Audio's all nice and NSFW, and the video is probably NSFW, because the word "Skeet" is featured prominently on screen.
9FkvTzzWTVE
For the record, I'm on the camera's left doing the English reading, because I wrote it. I should also add that my voice is a bit torn up there from coughing all day, so it's not as sexy and deep as it could be. :(
I understand it gets a little hard to understand at points, so here's the full transcript of my part. Sadly, the Spanish translation was made pen and paper, so no hopes of getting that up.
[Expand this for the full poem]
"Well, last time I was up here, I got that whole stage fright thing going, and that was no good, really, because I choked. And I don’t want to choke, so I’m up here again – for free (and that’s a first) – because I don’t like choking. In fact, over break, I asked my dad, “Pops, I choked on stage – how do I not do that?” and he gave me some advice that I did follow: He told me, “Well, son, you gotta suck a lotta dick.” So I told one of my friends what my dad told me, and he looked at me and said, “Dude, your dad is an asshole.” So I hauled off and punched him in the face. And when he was unconscious, I sucked his dick. Yeah, I showed him. Anyhow, I hope my dad’s idea worked – here we go!
Well, we all know people that make bad decisions.
I've made some, you've made some
Every man and woman down to the last one
Has screwed up. At least once.
And that’s the natural way of things, as far as I can tell
Yes, common, low-brow, and annoying as hell
But laws of nature are just that, laws – obey
Or so I think when I make a mistake
Now, I have for you a story today about a man I know
His tuxedos are oil and his hair is snow
He made some mistakes once, big and bold
Yeah, and his mistakes went and changed the world
A status quo gone in a single man’s lifetime
‘Cause of one mistake he made, like yours or like mine
Since then it’s been decades and he’s decrepit and old
But here’s that story ‘bout him and flying gold
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you go back long enough, nearbouts 1947
He was a young man, and a brave'un
And he had hisself a master plan:
Like all young men, with the words, “I can!”
And he could, he planned, maybe archaeology
So he went to school and got his degree
A bachelors or masters’ or something – I forget
But it wasn’t much use to him on the market
So he was gonna go out into the world and learn hisself some history
And air it out for all else so they could see
Or maybe he’d discover something surreal and profound
Regardless, he’d tell the world what he found
And with those pure plans and a purer heart
He went out into the world to get his start
But all that changed, yeah, July o' '47
Roswell -- Roswell happened
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now, we've all heard the story of Roswell before, I think
But I want to get us on the same page so you're --
You're gonna have to listen just one more time
While I dust off your memory and give it a shine
Something crashed in a field back then, maybe it was alien
People said it was, go'ment said t'wern't and then
Whole issue kinda flared up, was covered up, smothered up
Officials were buttered up and deals were cut
And the world stopped turning or some such
But really it did keep turning, indeed, nothing much
Changed through all of that, it was almost insignificant
The cover page of the century was still short some spunk
But people were still intrigued, and one more so than others
Someone we’ve introduced, somebody familiar
But he dug and dug and his results were smothered
Still, he tried and tried to find out about those saucers
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
So silence kept and no one now alive knows what then happened
But one man livin now did know, way back then
Kinda. He thought about it, and figured it all out:
Aliens really did crash, evidence lent no doubt
And the government even managed to recover the craft
Dug it out of its crater and then packed
Away under cover of darkness – but why?
Did they take it apart to find out how it flied?
No, the coverup was where everything went wrong
If we'd taken a ship apart for science, why lie for so long?
What's wrong with saying, "We's got some alien technology"
If the world knows we've got big guns, they won't mess with us, see?
It’d be the end of the Cold War in the blink of an eye
If we told them we had science sent down from the sky.
But what happened? Did they think that we would be afraid
That one day those same aliens would come down on raids?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The core of it, he decided, was nothing so pure
No thinking 'bout preventing hysteria and fear
They done something worse, they done something cold
Uncle Sam done sold his science for his gold.
Yeah, that flying saucer was something special
'Cause the only saucers like that were saucers royal -- gold
Gold, pure as any, more carats than a rabbit hole
Like the plates in king's halls in the days of old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now in 'Merica, when people don't trust the gov'ment
One or the other's gotta go, and the people won't hear it
And the gov'ment knew just what people would think
If they knew the Prez took science and ran it down the sink
So when they did it they made sure that nobody knew
They spread lies and stories about weather balloons
Because they made damn sure that nobody could tell
That they'd sliced and diced that space ship, to market, to sell
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
So our man, he picked hisself up a new task
Wherein he'd make some money and he’d make it fast
'Cause the only way he would ever find out 'bout them aliens
Was to collect up all the gold and put it together again
Now he knew he wouldn’t know right off
Whether gold was the gold he wanted or not,
So he figured, he’d some get gold first to figure it out
Yeah, he’d get some and see what this alien gold was all about
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
It didn’t take him long to get some gold goods,
He worked his dayjob and hoarded what he could
Bought a little gold here and a little more there
And took it into a lab and scienced it to bare
The secrets that it held, but there were none the gold revealed
So he went and made more money to try again “for real”
And in the end he figured he’d need more gold than he thought
More, certainly, than he could make with his dayjob
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
So he came up with a new job, one that would use his old shovel
He bought a little land and dug for some oil
Oil, that black gold dug from the depths of hell
But it would sell for lots of money and that would sure help
But one thing that went wrong is, he got too caught up in his work
While his friends were disappearing, one after another
For some he was too rich, and others too cruel
And before he knew it he was lonely and old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And what’s more, he forgot something important
He worked so hard for his gold he forgot why he needed it
To bathe in? To shine? To be rich for money’s sake?
And to get there, how many friends did it take?
It took all of them, used ‘em up ‘til they were gone
All the time there were less and then there were none
So he went off and sold his purpose for cash
Because his life came to revolve around his gold stash
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Now since then, you’ve probably seen him on TV and such
Very rich man, so if you haven’t you’re out of touch
But that’s not the point of this story, not for a second:
The ham-handed moral is that you should keep sight of your goals
‘Cause you go blind like this old fool did and you’ll lose out
And if you lose sight of your goals, you lose what life is all about
And then you’re just rich, rich and soulless,
Even though you coulda lived flawless
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
But morals aside, here’s one thing to take home:
He was wrong. Dead wrong. Probably.
So next time you have a dumb fucking idea,
Like golden flying saucers
Shoot yourself now and save us the trouble
Of living under your thumb in the future.
Please.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Opinions?