Lifesmith Country

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Trifling." I’m just a creature walking along the face of the earth My head may be in the clouds but my feet are in the grass One of countless life beams, an atom in the finger of God In the glory and grace of it all may my life pass. The orchestration of life by the universal mind Majesty and might incomprehensible indeed Awes one into both a feeling of insignificance And infinite power to be the Creator's seed. It's easy to understand why pride is a walking death Anathema to a Creator's amazing divine craft We're limited by a simple linear time stream Make all the plans you want and see God laugh. So I'm just a semi-sentient sinner of sorts Cannot even divorce my ever-carnal thoughts Sad knee-jerk judgement's prejudice prevail Until a divine wisdom is within me taught. Thus every note played is this symphony of real Is there for our understanding and growth Harken your ears and open your eyes and mind May my message reach you to lighten us both.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Trifling." The shaven-headed monkey wags his contorted fingers at the custom-painted deathtrap Hoists up his cinched khakis and lets them sag so his bloomers shine for everyone’s enjoyment Belches out a shit-faced grin whose breath could kill looking for new victims and crap Urinates on the sidewalk and sneers for they’ve no beer until his crew rolls out for rent. It’s three a.m. in the city and darker than dark Any fool worth his soul knows to avoid the park There’s dirt going down there and the police don’t know How low these boys can go, how low these boys can go. The corn-rowed convict throws down a two-bit challenge at another piece of dim-witted work Too high and primitive, rocked and immaculately stoned his jaws rattle out his profane speech With no insight and no hindsight and no need for either, this worthless punk is a jerk Who only knows how to take, how to steal, how to hurt, such are his obscene lessons to teach. It’s three a.m. in the city and bleaker than bleak The hood’s no place for the kind, mild or meek The animals in the jungle know it’s kill or be killed The death of civilization is an intolerable pill.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Pablum." Did you uplift the masses or lie and deceive Vilify the guilty or grant innocent’s reprieve Did you climb mighty heights for yourself or for others Care for the children of unworthy mothers Did you bargain and wheedle for a mere crust of bread Or give till it hurts to see they were fed The choices you made are the sum total of being Your decisions replete in consciousness seeing. Did you clutch for riches or share all in your way Acquiesce in peace or ambition's power play Were you a merchant of nothing or sell to the soul Squeeze by a loophole, did your homer hit the pole Did you devote time in service to better Mankind Or do all you did just to advance your own kind No matter how you slice it, your bread becomes toast In His all-seeing eye and soul-stinging roast. Did you sit on your tail or perpetually make motion Whine and complain or choose constructive emotion Did you curse at the darkness or raise up a light Fight against evil or in hypocrisy delight Did you teach and inform to enlighten your race Or take all you could in selfish disgrace There is no escape from the recorder of things You've done what you have whether paupers or kings.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Blather." “The freeway scene is like life,” said the cop Cruising along until his time to stop All of us drive toward some destination Roll upon wheels of private sensation. Carry the vehicle of our own choice A personal mirror of colorful voice Dodging the obstacles, stones in our way We change lanes as methods, get carried away. By sexy young models, mobile dreams The road’s but a medium, not what it seems The paths that we ride will never again Be done by another, no matter when. The exits we take, adventures we choose Take us to places where we pay our dues The pavement rolls on with no end in sight This road’s your horizon in day or night. So our internal combustion egos Strike an outwardly material pose Sometimes we’re steady or rush things too much Fly by our rivals or get close and touch. And we carry ourselves so far and wide We race like the wind, the blacktop our guide It’s day after day and mile after mile Thunder’s our glory and distance our trial.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Blather." They label him this way, and they label her that She’s too damn skinny and he's way too fat Her sales are fantastic and his numbers are flat He's a liberal conservative lyin' republicrat. He's a racist bigot and she can't drive a knife He's a jealous husband and she's a cheating wife She is working way too hard and he is barely alive She gets in way before six and he can't wait 'til five. Yeah, we make our surface judgments Usually shallow, meaningless lies That serve our own selfish purpose Though your real humanity denies. She's a dummy 'cause she's blonde or her skin's too damn dark He's a greedy lawyer scum and drinks blood in the park The Yale grad's gotta be smart despite the eagle's bark She's a righteous hypocrite, the TV con man's spark. She's gotta be a whore by the cut of her holey jeans Gotta be a Mexican because he likes tacos and beans Gotta be gay because he digs Broadway scenes She's gotta be trouble because she's still in her teens. Yes we indict upon contact And tell ourselves such lies It makes ourselves feel better But it hardly makes us wise.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Pablum." Every moment is a crossroads in life, a decision, a way taken Every door is an opportunity, a locked one, a way forsaken Every line in the play's a choice, a real-time scene to behold Every dream's dance a fantasy new, connections to unfold. Every word you speak of a friend, a bond not easily broken Every turn you take on your way, mind's subway's lost token Every promise given one beyond, takes one away from another Every cross word wrinkles the fabric, ironed out by your mother. Our life's the result of our choices and decisions Our blatant rejections and careful incisions Do we turn left or do we turn right? Get a good night's sleep or stay up all night? Can we plan it all out and will it all be right? Have we wisdom to predict every plight? Is there a best choice as we stumble thru our days? Understandably we go on, improving our ways. There's lots to be said for being spontaneous and free The wind carries you blithely like a leaf from a tree But that's life’s decision like any other for sure Choices made for you, you'll have to endure. So have we free will, is our destiny in stone? Can we cast away sins, in sincerity atone? We know there's no take-backs, no Mulligans alas Stuck with our choices yet fashioned in glass.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Prattle." Raging roughshod through a windowed dream Paused in earnest to redirect the stream Of where I came from and where I’ll be Within my maturing soul’s conservancy. Yet groping for gold apparently there I grab profoundly the transparent air Eluding my grasp the sad grains do slide A relative mirror of conception’s design. So similar poles of magnets repel Alacrity’s reach is vision compelled The control I seek is not one to hold Intention’s the nudge that massages the mold. Life’s like a painting, a stroke at a time The brush is not real, direction derived Feeling what changes, not touching at all Ghost-like projection, reality’s doll. Conscious choices you make are the key Unlock the depths of your own mystery What’s real and true can’t help but reflect The actions you take in mutual respect.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Commentary." Some men feel it with money, Some men feel it with clothes Some men feel real cool with white powder up their nose Some men feel it with power Some men feel it with land Loving a woman makes me feel like a man. I was sitting in a bar with a couple of buddies back in my Army days Sitting and drinking from lunch until supper putting a few away And one of the guys got really drunk and staggered way back to the base The other one said, ”What kind of man can't stand a whiskey and chase?" Some men feel it with anger Some men feel it with lust Some men feel it with the rights they read, right after making a bust Some men feel it with heroin Some men feel it with a plan But loving a woman makes me feel like a man. I was playing stud poker in a cathouse a long, long time ago Holding my own with a table of crazies who're raisin' fo' tens and m.'. When one of the losers picked up his last ten and said it was time to go The others said, "What kind of man could leave this place with another ten to blow?" Some men feel it with fast cars Some men feel it with books Some men feel it as rock stars, with all the faggie-pie looks Some men feel it with muscles Some men feel it with a tan Loving a woman makes me feel like a man. One night I was watching late TV when some bullfighting came on Amazed that the bull was affected at all by the wily matador's charm When the man felt life in the edge of a knife cause he saw where the bull had fallen The audience cried, "What kind of man could destroy what the Lord has begotten?" Some men feel it with rifles Some men feel it with spears Some men feel it with meditation, thus destroying your fears Some men feel it with concrete Some men feel it with sand Loving a woman makes me feel like a man. I was sitting in my basement when three old friends dropped by They said we got this stuff we'd really like you to try And we did some and did some and did some more Until one of my friends got sick and puked out the door. Some men feel it stealing bases Some men feel it winning' races Some men feel it upsetting the champ, surprising all the faces Some men feel it in the bush Some men feel it in the hand Loving a woman makes me feel like a man. Loving a woman makes me feel like a man.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Trifling." I’m tired of your garbage that passes off as art I’m sickened by your anger, it’s primitive and dark Can't you think of anything of all there is to be Must you come off swearingly in dollar’s idolatry. Your atavistic simple mind is governed by your id Such lowest level functioning, emotions rarely hid The finer thoughts of humankind are well beyond your reach Greed and sex and anger is the best that you can preach. So raise your level, raise your plan Raise your kids, be a man Don't blame me, don’t blame her Wear responsibility like your fur. Don't you dare blame me cause you didn’t get ahead You’re the one who laid down in unlawful slothful beds You cheat, you steal, and you lie, and you think that it’s okay Laziness and procrastination and thievery never won the day. Boldly you pass off talent as tribal chants and raves Your insolence disgusts me, your morality degrades The fabric of our culture, coarser by the hour Things will get no better as cretins acquire power. Your angst grows like a fungus, it’s ugly and it smells May all you ignorant gangsters rot away in dismal cells Police and fireman waste their time chasing crap like you Our system is too easy on you scum, for the good it’s sadly true. If you use a gun to commit a crime, your payment is your death Our society cannot tolerate any more of your vile evil filth. Though beyond your ken, life is sacred in all its forms indeed Only the depraved destroy in their lusty ignorance and greed. So thin out the herd, choose and breed, raise us to a higher plane Remove the darkest elements for our culture does cruelly wane As lawlessness reaches a critical state and governing will be undone You have been warned, the signs are there, civilization’s on the run. Oh and it’s not like The Powers That Be don’t know what’s going on Instability in the streets is guaranteeing their powers prolong Keep the little people crazy and busy covering their naive little asses Bigger crimes are behind the scenes in boardroom’s dim morasses. So let the races squabble and moan, a tribal conflict at best While high in the towers of conceit, manipulation’s someone’s jest Though this life is short and deceiving, your soul has an honest face Forgive the jerks infesting your world, attitude’s your winning grace. So do us all a wondrous favor and lobotomize yourself castrated Stick a screwdriver in your eye and twist it till your sated With your mindless drivel and careless hatred you are a caveman still A notch below Zinjanthropus, I don’t wish to pay your bill. Sure I’m pissed and so should you be, a race so disappointing Barely up from all fours, evolution has passed them wanting A rampant humanoid viral agent is ignorance to be crushed Those who carry on and proliferate it should openly be flushed.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Blather." How much do I give and how much do I keep? Is the price to elevate society one too steep? Gotta take care of number one and seeds I've sown But the song my life sings has a righteous tone. I want to give, I want to live beyond reproach I need to find a balance, be my own coach I must be strong so those I love live long Yet share enough of them and me to be sure that we belong. Young men are foolish, accumulating useless trash To impress whomever, under the influence of cash Older men know it's in the giving that defines a man What he does, not what he has, that drives the plan. But to give wholly and selflessly when others need you Seems irresponsible to me, yet to hoard it's selfishly true Life's give and take, what you can and what you need Some say you give 'til it hurts, not 'til you bleed. How much do I give and how much do I keep? Is the cost to elevate fellow men far too deep? Gotta take care of my DNA and it's replications sure But the chime of my reason must forever ring pure.