Rise & Fall of Practically Everything

Sex Crazed Intellectuals
© Jim Ocean

Cramming information
stimulating error in the mind
Cramming information
stimulating aberrations in the mind
Cramming information
stimulating error in the mind

But the body…
Wants to feel your fingers
running through my hair
The body…
Wants to see you romping
in your underwear
The body…
Straining at the fabric
for a chance to tear through…

Oh…Sex crazed Intellectuals

The expresso was as hot
as the blood inside his loins but
He sat behind a book
looking so blasé
His mind was in his crotch
The book was just a decoy
A literary tool to lure a woman his way

Oh…Sex Crazed Intellectuals

The theater was dark
and the subtitles were blurry
But words were not the reason
why she came today
When their tongues began to dart
Her mind would start to curry
She loves to get lathered at the matinee’

I’d like to get out of my mind
I want to tear off all the paper
And then we’ll see what we can find
Underneath the layers
See what we can find…

Oh…Sex Crazed Intellectuals

She sat poised in the corner
of the modern art museum
While he stared at something
phallic on a cool gray wall
But she knew that her intent
was to tie him up and tease him
So, she smiled an invitation
His resistance dissolved

I’d like to get out of my mind
I want to tear off all the paper
And then we’ll see what we can find
Underneath the layers
See what we can find…

Cramming information
stimulating error in the mind
Cramming information
stimulating aberrations in the mind

But the body…
Wants to feel your fingers
running through my hair
The body…
Wants to see you romping
in your underwear
The body…
Straining at the fabric
for a chance to tear through…

Ah…Wild Thing you make my heart sing…
You make everyone
Sex Crazed Intellectuals

So, how’d you like to come up to my place later…
we can look at my rather rare collection of pre-Colombian
art…we can pop a bottle of white zin, and then well..
maybe later…Do you know what you can do with
silly putty when you’re really in the mood?

Robot for Jesus
© Jim Ocean

I have God on my shoulder
Like a hawk as we hunt for your mind
Here I stand in my armor
Wrapped in smiles
Just like Mom’s apple pie

I’m a Robot for Jesus
I’m a Robot for Jesus

I’ve been programmed to save you
It’s a part of my holy routine
It’s for the rapture I’ll claim you
Another soul for the Christian machine

I’m a Robot for Jesus
I’m a Robot for Jesus

With a bible on my knee
I’m living for the prophesy
I can’t wait til I hear the sound
Of the final battle ground
I can’t wait to be in the crowd
When the final light goes out

Click!

I can wrestle with the devil
I can walk through the valley
Of the shadow of death
Grit my teeth against evil
But now I can’t seem to
Think for myself

I’m a Robot for Jesus
I’m Robot for Jesus

I’ll be back tomorrow…
For your soul tomorrow…

Style Over Substance
© Jim Ocean

Turn on the TV
Sit down in the chair
Another chance to see a cop with blow dry hair
He looks so beautiful
He makes the girls all scream
He’s the man the face the hunk on all the magazines

Style Over Substance
Style Over Substance

Turn on the radio
Let it pour into your ear
Thick and sticky
As a resin on vaneer
There’s no escaping what comes wrapped in cellophane
They’ve got a drum machine to pound it in your brain

Oh baby please come home…oh baby baby please cum…
Style Over Substance
Style Over Substance

Her jeans fit so tight discomfort is a plus
That means the fashions right the perfect stimulus
She needs the acid wash for that she’ll spend her cash
She’ll blow a pay check for a name sewn on her ass

Style Over Substance
Style Over Substance

Every product has a number and a face
Something clever that your mind cannot erase
A whole new Betty Crocker was just scooped out of the pan
They’ll sell a lot more cake mix with a yuppie on the can

Watching the silver…watching the silver screen
Reading the mag…the magazines

I’m at the movies trying not to bite my nails
The woman next to me she’s really looking pale
We’re packed together in a room of scared sardines
Brains as raw a hamburger as the catsup hits the screen
They’ve got you squirming now your nerves are ripped and torn
You need a sedative…for now you’ll take popcorn
Duh…Style Over Substance
Style Over Substance
Style Over Substance
Style, Style, Style, Style!

Love as Real Estate
© Jim Ocean

Please Mr. Tesla before you sign the final papers on your new home we do want to remind you that this property comes ‘as is’…

Listen darlin’ I understand that the sub-structure is completely infested with termites…I can’t believe how wonderful that it is…I’m gonna be crawlin’ around on my stomach for 6 or 7 months fixin’ things…

You did review the clause about the roof didn’t you?

You mean the dry rot in all the timber?

Yes!

It’s perfect! I’m gonna be up on ladders for weeks…I can’t wait to get started on this project…Where’s the pen? I’ll sign…I’ll sign…

The for sale signs were out this time
Your lawn grew long and so wild
Your bathroom leaked and your floorboards creaked
Your kitchen screamed for some tile
And the window panes were all cracked and stained
Where the walls stood sullenly brown
But I’ve got no sense so I fixed your fence
And I laid my money down

Love as real estate
You’re my fixer upper
Love as Real Estate
I don’t want no other
Love as real Estate
I’ll save you from the weather
Love as Real Estate
I’ll nail you back together

“You knew I was a nervous wreck when we first got involved!”
“Yes darling but that’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”
“Look, I’ve been in therapy for years to get over guys just like you!”
“But baby, you got such great potential.”
“I hate when you say that!”

The cobwebs hung when our love was young
We traced our hearts in the dust
And all that spring I fixed everything
Til I saw you shine through the rust
But you stayed concealed until your paint was peeled
And I saw your boards decompose
I just smiled and shrugged then I gassed your bugs
And I waited for escrow to close

Love as real estate
You’re my fixer upper
Love as Real Estate
I don’t want no other
Love as real Estate
I’ll save you from the weather
Love as Real Estate
I’ll nail you back together

Do you understand that I’m the kind of man
Who goes into love with a hammer in his hand
I’ll do the nailing when your foundation is failing

Up on the roof
(I’m up so high)
Down in your arms
(I guess you know)
Caught in the wire
(The reason why)
And covered in tar
(I’ll give you rope)
I’ll follow the codes
(I’ll give you twine)
With all new designs
(I’ll give you hope)
Until you don’t need me
And then I resign

Clipped and clean your lawn is green
Your stairs don’t sag like before
Your doorbell rings and your clothesline sings
You don’t need me anymore
So goodbye dear one it seems my work is done
There are other hearts left to mend
So I’ll hit the street for someone incomplete
Before their home and heart is condemned

Love as real estate
You’re my fixer upper
Love as Real Estate
I don’t want no other
Love as real Estate
Though your heart’s a shambles
Love as Real Estate
I’ll prune back the brambles

You can find me in the hardware store
You can find me in the hardware store

You can find me by the cans of plaster
In the aisle of hammers with my staple gun
I’ll be standing near the stains and lacquers
With my paint brush smile and my linoleum

You can find me in the hardware store
You can find me in the hardware store
You can find me…

Friends as White Noise
© Jim Ocean

I see you talking through the steam
I’ve tried to listen but I’m unable
Your words go through me like Vaseline
And when I try for your attention
You seem to always lose your poise

Because your friends...your friends are white noise
I said your friends...your friends are white noise
I said your friends...your friends are white noise
I said your friends...your friends are white noise

You want me for decoration
Just something buzzing in the air
I’m like a glass of white carnations
Something live to fill a chair
But when this nik-nak comes to life dear
You always get so damned annoyed

Because your friends...your friends are white noise
I said your friends...your friends are white noise
I said your friends...your friends are white noise
I said your friends...your friends are white noise

Remember when we met
I was your friendly silhouette
But now you treat me like a pet
I’m just the snow on your set.

“Well you know it’s our second date and the guy is walking me home and we get to my apartment door and I put out my hand to give the guy a handshake and wish him a very good evening when all of a sudden the guy is
all over me like a cheap suit I mean his hands are everywhere I don’t care two dates he spends a little bit of money on me it doesn’t make any difference to me I’m sorry I’m a liberated woman so I thought I gotta get out
of here so I start looking in my purse for the key to my apartment door
and I can’t find the damned key anywhere meanwhile the guys hands are
like still all over me and I start screaming!”

“I’d finally found the woman of my dreams. You know the kind of woman who fulfills every expectation you’ve ever had about a relationship? There was really only one side of a relationship we haven’t fully explored, so I thought it was about time we found out whether we were sexually compatible or not, I mean it was our third date after all, so I start fondling her on her shoulder pads, slipped down to kiss her, she turns around slaps me on the face and says “I knew you were that kind of man and I never want to see you again!”

I think I’ll charge you for my service
Like public TV you’ll get a bill
Because without me you’d get so nervous
The walls would cave in
You’d need a pill
I’m the talk show in the background
I’m you’re wind-up Sigmond Freud

I’m just your friend...and I’m just white noise
I’m just your friend...and I’m just white noise
I’m just your friend...and I’m just white noise
I’m just your friend...and I’m just white noise

“So I start you know knocking on my apartment door for my roommate  Charlene, and he’s like fondling me outside it, and I realize she’s got the tube on so loud she can’t hear me, and I’m knocking really loud saying
Charlene, Charlene let me in, get me away from this idiot, so she finally l
ets me in, and I’m about to slam the door on the guys face, and you know what the guy says to me, he says, “Can I see you tomorrow?” Can you
believe that...I mean what a jerk ...I’m sorry what a totally insensitive clod!”

“So I lost her, you know there must be something wrong here, this is the woman I could spend the rest of my life with, so I decide to give her one more chance, I come up and knock on the door, and I say I really wanna do
it, I really want to have a relationship with you, and I think it’s right, you know, and she says, “No, I never wanna see you again!” I can’t believe it, I just don’t understand, that’ it!”

“What? I’m sorry what did you say? Huh?”

Road to Gridlock
© Jim Ocean

(radio clicks on…helicopter traffic report ensues)…”for the last three days…that unidentified white powder spilled on Monday still has things pretty well backed up on I 80, but CalTrans and the DEA assure us that there should be some substantial movement by Friday…and a warning to all travelers east bound on the Bay Bridge… Berkeley is now ‘FULL’ and all traffic is being re-routed to Marin, where we’re assured, plenty of parking is still available.”

“How’s tricks in Contra Costa, Chet?”

“Well, I can’t see it from here Dave, but according to the CHP all traffic south bound on the Benicia Bridge has been re-routed to the Dunbarton Bridge, sooo, pack a lunch!”

“Have you got any movement on that parking contest?”

“Well, we did find….” (music comes up)

The cars ahead seem fossilized
We’re hardly moving
I’m hypnotized
Stuck in motion on the tar
In my metal dinosaur
Kept from moving by these hunks of steel
Watch the man go crazy at the wheel
On the slow, slow Road to Gridlock

This used to be a country town
It wasn’t hard to get around
Now there’s a light at every block
We measure inches by the clock
And everybody’s got a fast new car
That doesn’t mean that you can get too far
On the slow, slow Road to Gridlock

Oh, I’ve got a dream of moving down the highway
Oh, I’ve got a dream of moving down the highway

Can you be certain your wheels are still turning around
Nothing is moving I seem to be glued to the ground
Oh, I’ve got a dream of moving down the highway
Oh, I’ve got a dream of moving down the highway

Type A behavior is not in my favor today
Stuck to the street while my heart’s beating madly away

Oh, down the highway…
On the slow, slow road to gridlock

Some chew their fingers
Some strike a pose
Some read the paper
Some pick their nose
Some use a mirror
To comb their hair
It’s such a ritual
You see it everywhere
I feel my mind begin degenerating
Half of my life you’ll find me hibernating

On the slow, slow Road to Gridlock
On the slow, slow Road to Gridlock
Yes it’s a slow, slow road…

“I’m outa gas…”

High On Stress
© Jim Ocean

Come see my bloodshot eyes
Hear the wicked way I cough
No I don’t sleep at night
Cause my mind just won’t turn off
And then I get real mean
From four cups of caffeine
And then I’m running out the door
Yes you should see me run into oblivion
Like some high-strung dinosaur

No migraine can stop this brain
From wrestling with success
I’m beyond pain I don’t need cocaine
It’s such a strange happiness

Yes, yes, yes, yes I’m so high on stress (4X)

Although my nerves are fried I can’t take the time to rest
I’m stuck in overdrive with this time bomb in my chest
I’ve got no social life no time to take a wife
And my refrigerator is bare
I live on adrenalin a good kick in the shins
To make me stomp and swear
When crises comes I’ll beat the drum
And jump into the mess
It’s just my fate to reach an altered state
From living under duress

Yes, yes, yes, yes I’m so high on stress (4X)

(Bridge)
Up on a roller coaster
Feeling my life go down
I know that soon I’ll hit the ground

I always bite my nails when waiting at the light
When people drive like snails I’ve been known to start a fight
I like to honk my horn until your ears are torn
And force old ladies off the road
Maybe my life won’t last because I live too fast
And someday I’ll just explode
Well life is short it’s a nervous sport
With barely time to rest
And if I should die for no reason why
Would you go tell the press

Yes, yes, yes, yes I’m so high on stress (4X)

I’m high on stress.....STRESS!!
Yea yes I’m high on stress....STRESS!!
Yea..yea I’m high on stress...Stress...stress...stress....stress...
Yea...yea I’m high on stress...stress...stress...stress...stress...stress...stress...stress...stress...stress...