Lifesmith Indie Rock

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Commentary." Millions of people everyday revel in their dreams Of graceful nights and champagne flights alive on silken beams Past green field houses thru streams of pure freshness and back cause the fire is nice We wander toward wonder on the fins of another and return to our bowl of white rice. We climb aboard the working ship which sails out every morn To seek the light that brings us bread; it's the life that gives us form We drudge and dream and then dry clean the sweating off our backs And the salt on the shoulder of the rented householder pays for the labors in tax. We grope and gray and then decay--we're lovers in the dust We scratch the surface of holy houses for security and trust We plead at night to the powers that be to free us from our needs But work is the weather for workers forever--sweat from our hearts really bleeds. Millions of people everyday shudder in their shoes Seeing off the living truths the whites the blacks the blues Everyone else is digging in for the holy war to come Yet some of us still scream and swear, "Why are we so dumb?" And as we dream in our time of rest--we know our time is near We know the lame dog has his day, his mind and purpose clear When he and I and us may roam in search of the highest peak The meaning of happiness, the depth of love, is merely all we seek.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Prattle." Did you hear the news today? The ET's are here and want to be friends. Can cure all our ills in their alien way Improve all our lives in generous ends. Here to prevent the ending of days Come from beyond our time and space Said it's time to lift the cover-up's haze For many a year observed our race. Say they're part of a brotherhood vast Two thousand worlds in harmony and trust It's time to include us as childhood's past Before we decay into a nuclear dust Now do we believe them with discerning eye The gifts they offer appeal to our lust How do we independently verify or deny Their motives as stated or is it a bust? A man comes along, respected leader of sorts And announces that he's checked things out And the people come bleating in hopeful retort "Here's the new religion," all at once devout. Rallies the public to a new heightened cheer And honestly strives to eliminate doubt As sincere and believable as one could appear Handles all the concerns of what they're about.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Drivel." Good has got to be better and better has got to be best But best is not the best unless it stays on top of the rest I am never satisfied and I can never sit still I don't know if it's possible to ever get my fill. It's an attitude, a point of view, a way of carrying on The satisfaction one gets when it's all said and done To play like there's no tomorrow, to never waste your time So much can be accomplished in persistence sublime. Make your life a testament to always shooting high And if you don't succeed at first, give it another try Things may not always fare you well, obstacles indeed For destroying every hindrance is your visceral creed. Others may not understand your will to always be on top Many are flat-out lazy, and some will give up and stop Keep on rolling by them, pass them like rails on a road Don't let others dictate your pace in their sedentary mode. Take the energy you were given by almighty creation itself And apply it toward those lofty goals worthy of yourself Doing anything less denigrates the majesty of your world Which brings you down doubly, your life's flag unfurled. Good has got to be better and better has got to be best But best is not the best unless it stays on top of the rest I am never satisfied and I can never sit still I don't know if it's possible to ever get my fill.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Rant." Tiny little heads feed me pablum from the tube You think I’m just an ordinary poker-playin’ rube Convoluted nonsense flows from their tiny little brains Yet ninety parts get sucked in a tiny little train. But I don’t believe a word of it For no one shares secrets with me You in the know have broken our trust Rights will be victory. Tiny little voices speak me riddles from a tomb They’ll resonate an echo, send you back into the womb Federal authority flows in the tiny little veins Vanilla potatoes fall back on tiny little chains. But I don’t believe a word of it Your fastball won’t get by me A spell of darkness you cast upon us Light will be victory. Ah, what a world it really could be If we all got along as one But we’re not a race as pure and just As we think now... No, I don’t believe a word of it It seems you’ve shown your all to me The golem screams lies from his pulpit Silence will be Victory. No, I don’t believe a word of it It’s all a blank screen to me Every deception will be revealed Yes, truth will be Victory.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Blather." Not gonna be an astronaut and blast off into space Not gonna be a make-up artist, spread colors on your face Not gonna be a trial lawyer and test the limits of the law Not gonna be an oil painter or someone who can draw. Not gonna be a novelist or a poet of some renown Not gonna be a fashion maven or design the latest gown Not gonna be a corporate suit, greed just ain’t my thing Not gonna be a Vegas gigolo, a trash man or a king. I’m just too old to change streams now I’ve been at this too long And any attempt to start anew Will leave me in the wrong. Not gonna be an airplane pilot and fly to foreign lands Not gonna be a camel jockey and survive upon the sands Not gonna be a body builder or an actor on TV Not gonna be a martial artist and fight in the UFC. Cause I’m just too old to change things now To make a living at anything new With so many mouths depending on me To myself I have to be true. Not gonna be a rock and roll star and prance round on stage Not gonna be a microsurgeon or wield a pressure gauge Not gonna be a politician, just too honest for my own good Not gonna be a car mechanic, or work my way with wood. Not gonna be a US diplomat, and chat with dignitaries Not gonna be a cattle driver or milk cows at dairies Not gonna be a computer geek and program myself to Mars Not gonna be an alcoholic and hang around in bars. No, I’m just too old to change streams now I’ve been at this too long And any attempt to start anew Will leave me in the wrong.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Trifling." Hey baby I'm hydrochloric for your love The bases below and the gas clouds above Those pyrosulfuric motions of love Hey baby I've got centripetal acceleration Not your average catenation-- But a highly generated oxidation Hey baby I've got torque for your love Such a blinding sublimation assays of The reactant pyrite glimpses of love Hey baby I'm reading the electropositive Nothing a cathode ray tube could give To a hexacarbonate ion's intuitive. Hey baby I'm smokin gamma rays Not the visible here, for uranium's what pays To the finally malleable amperage haze. Hey baby I'm eating kinetic energy I've saved all my dreams for the overdue elegy For the wave bearers of this spiritual technology. Hey baby I can ride that integral function Calcium bridge myoneural junction Spinning around a rotational unction. Hey baby I'm waiting for the trisection of angles Where the silicon chain enmeshes and tangles And the Philistine phallus lies dormant and dangles. So baby I'm out here on the edges A crystalline finish of sapphire hedges When all ya gotta know is just where the edge is.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Trifling." Turbulent circles of impending doom Rifle thru the smoke that fills my room Conflicting ideals that echo hate and distrust A fragile blue pearl seems destined to rust. Ambitions embroiled in self-holied fight Twisted perception that might makes right Wickedly planning the destruction of hordes A karmic meltdown that no one can afford. Can anyone judge the goodness of war? A titan’s vengeance on a monster afar? Does a threat perceived justify a kill? Does God guarantee the sanctity of will? The little people never know the truth of this We banter and chatter, we cheer and we hiss In boardrooms and palaces, our fate is assigned To clandestine agendas of our elected behinds. So rail if you can against injustice and pain And scream disapproval if it’s not for our gain Praise not for Allah, our purely sapient toil Your duty is Human, not for nation or oil.

From the Lifesmith Group album, "Blather." I'm your clean bleeding knight in white shining anger Culture considered, a grounded cliffhanger Your less-than-casual canine reconnoiter Who points bony fingers at the ethical goiter That blisters the face of the trained elephant's ass. I'm your ragged champion with sore raging voice Whose gleaming petard is some retard's hoist Raw screams withheld in defiant meditation Scrapes up the highway of an unwise nation Steering his own toward a better tomorrow. I'm your untied rough and tumble slugger Whose taken some shots from ignorance mugger Scarred but smiling, bloody through my teeth This creamy rain will drown your foolish belief That money and power are worth your all. I'm your beacon of truth in a sea of dead ringers Doggerel you'll pry away from my cold fingers Ascendancy's doorstep I'll tread like an exile In Buddhic forgiveness unknown you revile For you're dumbstruck in dark western towers. I'm your siren of strength in a miasma of doom Whose words amongst many they wish to entomb Puppets abound performing malfeasance aplenty Yanked by their sinews, no more twenty-twenty Vision impaired and the best glasses can't help. I'm a loudspeaker of quiet in a din of disaster The sobering calm for a drunken slave master Still bold often brazen yet aged wiser, discreet Thoughts crawl your mind's alley damnation's receipt You'll know I was right once I'm dead and gone.

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