Lifesmith Soul, Rhythm & Blues, Jazz

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Commentary." The barber looked out his window and then he said to me, "I gotta take more off the top, snapping the scissors nervously, "You've still way too much to show, your neighbors will be jealous, "Let me trim those sideburns back, don't want to anger the fellahs." "But I like it long," I cried, "I worked hard for every lock, I went to school long and hard and worked daily round the clock. "Now you say I can't dig my way out of this middle class pit The bourgeois wants a greater gulf between the riches and the shit." "Oh, stop your whining, you ungrateful thrall, just look at what you have. I've protected you from corporate greed, your fortunes would be halved. "My razor's sharp and you've trusted me, lo, these fifty years. The necktie's only a little tighter, no reason for your fears." "Now wait a minute, barber there, I walked in here volunteered, I served my country when she called and now she's disappeared. "You have no right to cut my hair if I tell you not to do so, It's bad enough you overcharge, now order me where to go." "So let's get this straight, you demonic pig, we call the shots in number, You should have let the sleeping dogs lie, leave the lion in his slumber "The shearing you dare to cut me out will slice you to ribbons neat A revolution will burn your shop down, the fire's going up your street.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Drivel." Let me swim deeply in your sunken pool In my cotton cave of uncovered tools Let me lay my pipe straight and more Feel the heat by your flaming door. Get me the grease the ramrod is sure The parts are in place, the method is pure My engine’s engaged, the tranny does spin Rev me up humming a harmonious din. Let me roller coast on your slippery slide A fantasy feeling the in and out ride Drilling for oil in caverns so deep An electric pulse makes your soul leap. And as I climb that mountain on high Pushing the stone with more than a sigh Heartbeat increases a rhythm now voiced Brain chemicals dance a loving rejoice. The swimming is done I’ve reached my goal A task fully done, a now completed role A feast for a king, all that one can eat In a few short minutes I’ll likely repeat.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Rant." One would think we’d all get along Know right from wrong, sing a happy song One would think we’d help each other Respect your brother, help one another One would think we’d grow as a team With a smile and a gleam right on the beam One would think. One would think we’d create great things Fly upon wings, nourish who sings One would think we could all live in peace Glide upon seas, that fighting would cease. One would think we’d stop telling lies Find natural highs, get spirits to rise. One would think. One would think true love would last Great roles are cast, achievements are vast. One would think tolerance is sane Prejudice inane, ignorance a bane. One would think to help out the poor Find avarice the door, love to the core. One would think.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Rant." There were mile-high waves and the sun shone red Gale force winds charged at everything moored Magma erupted high in the air, the pyroclastic dead In that upcoming and terrible Day of the Lord. Diseased just by breathing as horrible human echoes wail Hot ashen rain sprays death on the natural hoard With rivers turn bloodied catching cannonball-sized hail Everyone's aghast during the Day of the Lord. Electrical fire blasts men off their feet, building fell through Twelve-point earthquakes rock the Earth to its core Children afraid with no tears left, numb to what's new Some people humbly repent in the Day of the Lord. Eyes consumed in their heads, neutron bomb's just a toy The trees are all burned as His vengeance is poured Every scheme of man is reduced to a mere pitiful ploy In the inevitable, incredible Day of the Lord.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Pablum." The sagging sentinel of solemnity saunters up with a sneer And demands from me a twenty for croissants and imported beer Homeless and ever dirty, he sickens me with distrust I gladly hand him my bankbook, my guilt’s an elephant’s truss. A grimy welfare mother of four with no business in my world Sacrificed her peasant’s freedom when her legs became unfurled Curses at me such venom as to make a black widow blush It’s easy to see without looking too far that evolution’s in no rush. A Dagon worshipper with golden chains grunts at me out of spite And yells at me his hardships while he plays with dynamite Blaming everyone but himself and mom for his apparent dispossession My hand dips into my pocket awaiting some bit lip-serviced confession. The mealy mouthed diplomat of the boulevard grabs me in the crotch And squeezes me until I scream, I trespassed on his watch Blinded by a dream he had of a demon who sings in the choir He laughs at me a cruel jest, my redemption’s his desire. The bloodletting hypocrite slithers over in his dark mock leather shoes And angrily requests his forms of me, banks on my fear to lose A Pentium-driven myrmidon in his twelve dollar Gucci coat Pleads with me on greedy knees to bear his cross to vote. Some underachieving bishop of sport bounces his soul to me unhinged Drafts me into a lustful game of eviscerated angst too singed Distastefully grants me unintended license to steal his microscopic brain I sterilize my phantom forceps in a cataclysmic cathedral rain. Some self-styled barker in time preaches the crowds asleep Trolling tall tales of actual hope while I uncontrollably weep Calling me out from a psychic slumber, run half-cocked for a time I outlast his bluster and act out my triumph in steamy pantomime.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Trifling." The aircraft plant was closing, the walls were coming down Those who could adapted, those who couldn’t left town. All across the Southland, commercials sank into red Without the government contracts, families won’t get fed. The glut of paid professionals now loosed upon the scene Struggle with their second choices and contemplate their dreams. For war is something known and feared and peace is just a vision We ask ourselves without remorse, is peace our clear decision? The black masses at the Pentagon, now ashen in disgrace to some Plead for increased taxpayer spending for secret projects to come. Yet thousands on the streets with no shoes, no shelter, no funds Rail against the madness -- hold their anger like a gun The people and our planet are the resources we must protect There will be no higher purpose if survival we don’t respect Let’s carefully choose our priorities -- can we really have it all? Yes, prosperity can be ours with peace, cooperation enthralled. Will money bring you happiness if forgiveness cannot be bought? Are we such unthinking fools to destroy what God hath wrought? Can we change our selfish ways to serve ourselves in kind? Will our brothers across the seas echo our maturing mind? The time is now, the place is here, the glorious brotherhood awaits Unknown cousins from beyond watch from behind the gates To bathe us in that special light of knowingness and trust Of depth renewed, and love construed, and exploration’s lust.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Trifling." Witness, if you will, the betraying of America... Looking up to see the stars, We asked for Venus, they gave us Mars Like Hamlet the Dane of ages past, Screwed by an uncle whose mold we cast. Young men are sent to faraway lands To believe, fight and die on forgotten sands God has been stricken from courts and schools The government takes us for senseless fools. One needs a lawyer to protect his own rights Malice aforethought in looking-glass nights Fed by a media of mouthpieces and liars The public is misled, washers and driers A chaos orchestrated by greed's own sake Under it all, they're just here to take A fabric of hysteria consolidates power Secrecy girds the unassailable tower.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Prattle." Magical mystical mythical people I see Swarming saluting surrounding the people I see Parading polluting patriotically defending me Why will it amaze you When everything around you -- is gone. Happily hopefully hanging there at the tree Balancing bombastic bricklayers at the DC Leaderless leaders led in and lost the war VC I know it won't surprise you When the world all around you is gone. Horrible heavenly high rollers hang in the sky Wordlessly watching with wisdom witness you die So super scientifically synthesizing situations For the Earth will be shaken The Earth will be taken from you. Paradoxically purposeful panic persists at the scene Globular greatness grows gray and covers the green Nature's new nature nurtures a seed that has been Your life will be made up Your bills must be paid off by then. Forever fearing future foes who fight you at the mast Relentlessly riding reality, reason the wrongs of the task So secretive star bound sailors may soften the blast Why will it surprise you When everything around you is gone.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Prattle." Viewpoint is a unique thing, a keyhole only one can see A periscope up from zero, a glimpse at personal reality No one shares your shoes, no one sings your blues Your world is one of billions, vantage point's singularity. An optic nerve transmission, vision thru a tin can wire Observation via sole intellect, a solitary taste no higher No one knows your plight, no one takes your flight Walking thru a tunnel alone, experiential truth your desire. Peering thru a gift roll tube, narrowly set yet patently yours A talent only you can possess, devoid of status, knowledge and mores No one moves your piece, no one signs your lease And though it appears we all share, no one opens your doors. Then we add interpretation into our singly universal dream And stir the brew with our past, our reason it would seem No one comes to your sum, no one knows how you come Your vision, your soul, and such reason make an unbeatable team.