Double Live

Saskatchewan
by Dave Bidini and Martin Tielli

The moon hung high... in the canopy of sky.
Home, Caroline, home.
The coastline neared... and the deckhands cheered.
Home, Caroline, home.
The mast stood tall... like the best of us all.
Home, Caroline, home.
I thought of the clean light and the places that we'd hide
In a church in Saskatchewan.

On the shore appeared men... like a welcoming parade.
Banners, flags and arsenal.
But they were not what they appeared to be... as their white flags fell.
Banners, flags and arsenal.
I looked up at the moon... and at the water down below.
Home Caroline home.
I though of the things... that the pastor used to say.
In a church in Saskatchewan.

Everyone raced onto the deck.
I tried to shoot but I just puked.
We must wrestle back what we had sown.
We must wrestle back what we had left.

I could not fire, and I don't know why.
Guess I knew the truth.
I felt I got what I deserved.
Guess I knew the truth.

I lay on the deck... as the cannonballs soared by overhead.
Home, Caroline, home.
The hull gave in... water came rushing in all around.
Home, Caroline, home.
I thought of the farm... and my work to be done.
Home, Caroline, home.
I thought of the clean light... and the places that we'd hide
In a church in Saskatchewan.

I could not fire, I was down to the wire.
Guess I knew the truth.
I felt I got what I deserved.
Guess I knew the truth.

Feed Yourself
by Dave Bidini

A cage of turtles, a cone of hemp
Was how he reeked, what he was smoking. (They're dancing.)
A cage of falls was on the trees
But I suppose, behind the trees.
"I shouldn't have taken that pretty black hit.
It wouldn't have mattered 'cause the band was shit.
I spent the night retching in a rolling stream.
Am I drunk or did I hear a scream?"
Meanwhile, the triple sport chip off the block,
He had an urge: a weird feeling.
It was a pretty good night for a walk in the woods
By the ravine, along the trail.
They probably beat him up when he was young,
Locked him outdoors for sucking his thumb.
And they dressed him well, educated him clean,
Must have taken his heart when they removed his spleen.

I was scared, but I was so far from it.
They called in the cops and they screamed "Red Level!"
The killer boy's like a wannabe punk.
One dead girl in a submarined trunk.
Ah, what's the use in crying? I'm armed.

I know temp work sucks, and a life it is not,
But it's a job. Hell, it's a living.
"For a sweet tomato, for such a party girl
Is what I am. (So party on!)
Like a box a chocolates and a Beatles song,
These are the things you can always count on:
We've got the moon, it's face, a wide-open space.
I swear it's where I go when he gets on my case."
But one minute you're here, and the next you're not,
Then you're a dot on a blotter.
The cops caught wind, and they cashed her in,
They found the boy. He said he tried to save her.
But they questioned him up and down with a stick.
They traced his blood and found his sweat in her spit.
So they locked him in a cell with four grey walls.
"We got one dead girl, but the kid won't crow!"

I was scared, but I was so far from it.
They called in the cops and they screamed "Red Level!"
The killer boy's like, he's a wannabe punk.
One dead girl in a submarined trunk.
Ah, what's the use in crying? I'm armed.

When I was young I thought that things were good and fair they pulled my hair they pushed me in they forced me down city of sleep city of TRASH.

The best boy triple sport killer is calm
Carving the bird. He loads the plates.
Outside in the street a vigil of girls
Sing songs and hold candles.
He loves his mom and he loves his own bed,
He loves the things that Jesus said.
"If you can't be pure, she might as well be dead."
He hears a voice through a hole in his head.
Suburban sharks, they love their blood in the parks.
They want their peace. They want their druthers.
We've gotta be safe from all the junkies who rape
And all the blacks and single mothers.
Those welfare-types and punks will run.
They'll find a rank place with the immigrant scum.
A girl was murdered, the boy was hung.
That was my first summer that we owned a gun.

One dead girl, she's in a submarined trunk...
Within a black or white neighborhood, don't walk!
Feed yourself, c'mon. Feed your children.

No more death...

Shaved Head
by Martin Tielli and Dave Bidini

The minute you shaved your head,
You ran for the mirror, but slipped in the clippings.
You sat in your nest... and cried like a baby would:
"Why am I, why am I wild and...
What is a what is a monster to do?
When your teeth are so new and your tongue is for licking?"

Spent, you fell down to the floor... And dopey,
You giggled, rolled sideways, and turned on the stereo;
White noise on the radio felt like a weird movie.

... And I am and I...
That's such a happy thing to cry.
Me, I can do it? How 'bout you?

You made sure the door was not open.
You made sure the blinds were all closed,
Gathered up pillows and took off your clothes.

Each piece that fell to the floor.
Each piece that showed a bit more of your skin.
Lay back to your bed... so touched to the cool sheets.

The minute they shaved my head,
I asked, begged, to let me a minute more to breath.
'Cause my days are my lungs, but my love for you is
E n d l e s s .

Torque, Torque!
by Tim Vesely and Paul Quarrington

Torque, torque. The beast needs more torque.
Torque, torque. The beast needs more torque.
Turn it up. Gotta uncork the cork,
The beast needs more torque now.

Torque, torque. The beast has to run.
Gotta let her out for some fun.
Turn it up. Gotta uncork the cork.
Let her be someone now
Underneath the sun now.
Torque, torque.

Give her more torque now...
More torque now...

Claire
by Tim Vesely and Paul Quarrington

Purify me. Purify me, Claire.
Let me see you save a mind that isn't there.
Purify me. Clarify me, Claire.

Liquify me. Liquify these walls.
Let me see them gushing like Niagara Falls.
Liquify me. Vaporize me, Claire.

Purify me. Purify me, Claire.
Let me see you save a mind that isn't there.
C'mon. C'mon.

C-L-A-I-R-E, confide in me.

Legal Age Life
by Dave Bidini

Well, legal age life at variety store,
Dealing in dope by the Exit door.
Waiting to work like a worm at the core.
Standing so long in the snow I'm sore.
I'm the king I am therefore
What kind of a fool am I?

Ah, legal age life at variety store,
These are the things that make me roar:
Disco sux and so does war,
The meek shall inherit the Earth no more.
I'm the king I am therefore
What kind of a fool am I?

And each time I wake up I try to speak.
I felt a cold river of tears upon my cheek.
And each time I wake up I feel so weak.
Dumbfounded.

Well, this country music or rock-and-roll...
Modern jazz is good for your soul.
I like the rhythm with the 12 bar blues.
Yes, I like the music of the rhythm with the 12 bar blues.
Well, if you're travellin' in a boat, ridin' in a car,
Listenin' to Jerry Lee or workin' in a bar,
I like the rhythm with the 12 bar blues.
Yes, I like the music of the rhythm with the 12 bar blues.

Timmy, count it off!
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7 1/2, 9, 10, 10 1/2, 10 3/4.

What kind of a tool am I?

Dead Is the Drunkest That You Can Get
by Martin Tielli

Dead is the drunkest that you can get,
Though I haven't got that drunk yet.
I'm just so mean and wild, and I'm stung up the spine.

Where are you going tonight? Where are you going tonight?
I'm gonna get into a fight,
Kick some heads around. Can you believe it?
What's it like doing that?
How come? What's it like? What's it like?
I don't really think about it.
It just feels good.

And dead is the drunkest that you can get,
Though I haven't got that drunk yet.
I'm just so mean and wild...

Bees
by Dave Bidini

There are bees, there are bees everywhere.
Amorphous yellow light.
Bellbottomed trousers striped.
Afraid to touch, too cool to beg,
We are the workers of the world.

We are bees, we are bees everywhere.
The buzzing of our wings.
Melancholy of our kings.
Araid to touch, too cool to beg.
We are the workers of the world.

And truth is all I have for you to stay.
The pollen that we love, she sniffed away.

We are bees, we are bees everywhere.

Dope Fiends and Boozehounds
by Dave Bidini, Martin Tielli, and Janet Morassutti

A sick sense of memory
Runs a river near a road
That travels up the parkway,
Getting frozen in the snow
Where what you see is what you see...
And only some will know
Where the ragged people go.

Where the boozehounds bay,
By the banks of the reservoir.
Crows climb higher
From their old familiar yard.

The best thing in heaven
Is supposed to be the sun
That shines between two mountains
And melts the Devil's gun,
And what you see is what you see...
And only some will know
Where the ragged people go.

Down here on Kipling,
Where the streetlamps light the way, hey,
There's talk of a reunion
Of the ones who didn't stay.

Why didn't they stay here
And help me shovel the walk?
(Why didn't they stay here?)

A sick sense of melody
Is what I hear when I'm alone.
And I love it more than misery,
And I love it more than home,
And I cry 'cause I'm not with it,
Even though I've never been...
Where the dope fiends laugh
And say it's too soon,
And they all go home and listen to
The Dark Side of the Moon.

Self Serve Gas Station
by Martin Tielli

Another trucker stumbled up the steps into my kiosk for directions,
He's too wasted to see the map I'm showing him.
He wanted to bust the glass... 'cause I wouldn't give him gas--
I said, "You shouldn't be driving.
Just take a nap until the morning time and hit the road."

I wish I had a pistol just to take him down with myself.
Who's to tell?
No one said this would be easy...
But no one said this would be hell.

Mom and Dad are selfless... and they don't do nothing worthless.
Just work all day and worry about their son:
"What went wrong with Martin? Is he dumb?"

I just pump gas ever weekday night
Until the sun comes up like missiles... to my brain.
You never said this would be hell.

And oh... with all the colors in closed eyes:
The blue and black of veins will go to one.
Come with me tonight... To say that this is anything
Is saying far too much.
Let's go.

I see the sun is bleeding.
The morning time has come... It's not that bad.
Oh, no.
No one said it would be king-like,
But no one said I could be had!

Horses
by Dave Bidini

Word came down, it crashed through my door
From the twenty-first floor.
I was thinking about leaving early for lunch
When he told me to shut off my press.
His face turned green, his white shirt was wet
Like he'd just seen an accident.
We threw our masks into a pile.
The trucks pulled away for good.

Holy Mackinaw Joe.

A bus pulled in, I waved at it,
Before I knew what it was.
We ran in its tracks, we were chasing its tires,
But the gates had been riveted shut.
I looked for the foreman: His number was zero.
Down to Red Deer to stay.
We gathered some signs and we sparked up a fire.
That Gordie got burned on the high-voltage wire.

Holy Mackinaw Joe.

The first thing she'll ask me is: "How did it go today?"
And I'll tell her.

I thought there was strength in a union.
I thought there was strength in a mob.
I thought the company was bluffing,
Till they threatened to chop us off.
These signs will wilt, the winter will seize,
All the bonfires will go out.
The company knows when they can afford to be bold.
I wish I could.

Holy Mackinaw Joe.

We are the horses...

Record Body Count
by Martin Tielli

Joey pulled himself to his feet,
Hauled his body back up the bank
And looked back down there.
He said the water was not that deep;
"But I almost drowned there."
You can drown in a bathtub so they say.
"Someone in class called me a loser,
Decided to skip the day...

I tried to look casual sneaking round the back,
Past the shotput across the track
And to the gate beside the portables.
A red tie and school gray slacks
Doesn't blend in with the grass
As the teacher was changing class.

He chased me halfway through the park,
I ran into the woods;
And I'm very good in the woods.

So I was an Indian,
Built a fire by the creek
And dried my eyes there."

There's a record body count this year.

Joey stepped up on a block of ice,
Put a rope around his neck,
And fell asleep before he died.

A Mid Winter's Night Dream
by Martin Tielli

Sweet, sweet silence... In the Winter's time.
Sidewalk shrinking... and you?

TV's twinkling. The sky cushioned my ditch with a couch of snow.
So deep. So cold and so blue. And you?

Sweet sweet silence. I'm already gone.
I's pleased to meet you speckled my throat like a junkie'd prick,
So cold, so blue, and slender.

It hiss like snow do
As though fish's could know any better
Underneath the ice in suspension.
It feels like your mouth.
A drip of spit on the end of your tongue
Falls into the ice and cracks like thunder
And a dream I had of girders
And an abandoned truck in an underground parking lot
With the keys in the ignition.

If I be the crane, if you can be the site inspector
Who had a scotch at lunch and a problem with his wife?
You didn't notice

The truck, the wires,
The white silence of the coming blue fires,
The sabotage of a giant thing that would benefit the workers.
It's all too much. A spirit can't sink any deeper
In to dope, dope, dope, dope, and submission.

And I know it's a dream I have. Yeah, it's what I think I know.
'Cause if all this pain and endless anger has somewhere to go...
If I had the permit to, all hail Leo Copter!

And you would like my face.
You would like my face.

You take a walk. I'll be your side of joy in love, I miss you.
Give me something to cry about... to cry about.
You give me something to cry about.

Sweet, sweet silence. I'm already gone.

The Royal Albert (Joey 2)
by Martin Tielli

Joey died in his room last night,
They took him down in a shit splattered elevator.
Ended up in the hallway this morning.
I must have been wasted happy.

Sometimes I get so down
That I soil my big, big, big, big, suit.

Mold it grows from one cell to the next
Till it forms these rings on the ceilings.
The ones that I stare at when the sirens come by
Every evening at a quarter to seven.

Introducing Happiness
by Tim Vesely

I was so unhappy. (I'm unhappy, too.)
Didn't know, unhappy. (I'm unhappy, too.)

Look who's found you someone.
Look who stole you from your nest...
And in thieving, we stole you from an icy death, yeah.
November's cold and lonely here,
But not at home and
I'm so happy I could make you happy.

Introducing happiness.

What do I owe you,
Or do you owe me more?
A better deal than this there's
Never been before.
I must appear a mess to
Have to write a song about you.
But you make me...

Introducing all this love into our house.
Well, your brother lives with mother
And your sister loves it
In Upstate New York.

When I see you
Throw the kitchen windows open wide,
I'll take a second to thank you.
I feel so good inside.
Although I go away sometimes,
Take your picture in my mind,
So when I'm yards and yards away
I am reminded not to stray.
Unless I've climbed the tallest tree.
Only that will keep me.

Introducing happiness.
Introducing happiness.
Introducing you.

Stolen Car
by Dave Bidini

I dreamed I drove a stolen car.
Thru the fields across the yard.
Taking out the fences that I'd built between all my friends.
Though the snow, they shagged again.
I said goodbye, waved them on their own.
I drove all night. I drove alone.

Goobye suburban mother bone.
For every kid in every home.
Beauty becomes you, be who you are.
If I should rob a corner store.
Or kill a cop who prayed for mercy.
Forgive me, I don't know what made me this way,
But I'll be alright and you'll be okay.

'Cause sometime it's precious to go. (She turnin'.)
No matter how smart you are, how could you know? (She turnin'.)
It's harder than living, it's harder to drive away.

I don't need anger to make me tough.
Acid scars or marijuana.
A dream, a kiss, one final wish.
A girl who's bent to pay my rent;
All these things are disappearing.
The world is swimming, the stars are bright.
I wish I were with you tonight.

It's lethal, it's painless, and it's slow. (She turnin'.)
No matter how smart you are, how could you know? (She turnin'.)
It's harder than living, it's harder to drive away.

Jesus Was Once a Teenager Too
by Dave Bidini
last verse by Martin Tielli

Jesus was once a teenager too.
He knelt on the lawn, and he wept woebegone,
While all his ex-friends raced like demons into
The face of the Albion Mall.

Jesus was once a teenager too.
He leapt across the rooftops, and he wondered aloud
Why all of the neighborhood night police stood
Around the face of the Albion Mall.

All I'm feeling is sorrow inside,
Superman feelings I can't help but hide.
I feel I've been caught in an animal's trap.
Crucify them, not I.

His teachers all claimed he'd been smitten with shame
From his father's cheap daredevil Circus of Fear.
And you'll need but a miracle these days to steer
From the face of the Albion Mall.

Now, Jesus was once a teenager too.
Though he could walk on the water, he could not face the laughter.
'Cause the tools of his trade were the size of his feet...

(That's a story of a guy called Jesus: the missing years.)

Good Canadian
by Martin Tielli

You're a good Canadian,
You let the new laws slip right in,
But now you're smokin' in a parkin' lot.

Bread, Meat, Peas and Rice
by Dave Bidini and Dave Clark

We'll crawl from the hillside, gonna make our government pay
For peas and rice, peas and rice.
We'll all rise together, grow wise on cries and lay
For peas and rice, heaven please...
Give them peas and rice. (Bread, meat, peas, and rice.)

Through fall's foul weather, we'll stand and fight as one
For peas and rice, peas and rice.
An ambush in the heather, on our tether they'll be stung
For peas and rice, heaven please...
Give them peas and rice. (Breat, meat, peas, and rice.)

I had a vision of a nightmare world
Where every second was a dollar bill.
My world collapsed on me (his world collapsed), my head caved in
Had no choice, had to sell my skin.
For some peas and rice. (Bread, meat, peas, and rice.)

Now the Irish have a saying, in it truth will always ring
For peas and rice, very nice:
"Don't matter who you vote for, you always end up with a king."
For peas and rice, heaven please...
Give them peas and rice. (Bread, meat, peas, and rice.)

Christopher
by Martin Tielli

On a cold road
Somewhere in the south of Ontario
There's a crackle in the air
As they're putting up the very last telephone pole.
Now I'm standing here... where my grandfather stood,
And he chopped wood.

When I was a young boy
(He used to take trips)
On a bike for girls and my best friend Chris
Now I'm standing here, where we used to stand,
Hand in hand, in a land that was so big.

Can you believe it... in it?

There's a mouth on a phone
Somewhere across the ocean blue.
And I know it's you, Christopher Columbus
(Ocean Blue)
With your tie-dye sails
(Ocean Blue).

The Ballad of Wendel Clark, Parts 1 and 2
Part 1
by Martin Tielli
Part 2
by Dave Clark and Dave Bidini

Part 1
Got a friend in B.C., know some winders kissing New York.
And I wanna buy a motorcycle and I wanna cut up to some farm...

Somewhere in this cowshit county, where the hills are round and green...

You see, late nights make me really tired, all this jamming gives me a headache,
Like listening to earthquakes all wired up for rock and roll.
Mama only listens to the radio.
Papa only watches hockey games.
This suburb rocks with the Eddie Van Wailers.
God saves the Queen--she made you a moron!

Part 2
Well I heard Wendel talking to Dave Hodge last night--
And he said that he was confident and keen.
And he said that Jacques Plante didn't die
So all of us could glide,
He said that hard work is the ethic of the free.

Wendel was a man with his stick in his hand
Who learned how to play in Kelvington, S-A-S-K. (Hey, hey!)
You'll wish that you had died,
When Wendel has your hide,
'Cause he does it the Canadian way.

(I am Canadian!)

So now we sit around on the couch and watch TV
And we see Wendel leading the team.
Well, if God made Clark on the seventh day,
He knew what He was doing if He did.
(Yes, He did!)

Like this?: Bam, Bam--digga digga damm!
Clear the trap, 'cause here comes Wendel.
Or more like?: Scrunch, pow, a-row-row row.
Bash, crash, you know... hit him with a stick: number seventeen!

Palomar
by Tim Vesely

There he is on the top of a mountain
Sharing biscuits with his dog
(Meaning "he" in the general sense of the word,
As he is all of us here).
And his dog asks him why he's alone,
And he replid, "I'm with my friend.
Or are you leaving me to join the blur?
'Cause I don't need you around."

Palomar,
What's wrong? Where'd your dog go?
"Well, he's gone for fresh meat and supplies.
'Cause he's done this before."

He arrives in town an hour later,
As he's much quicker on four legs than Pal is on two.
He takes his usual spot out back of the butcher shop,
Waiting patiently for closing time.
And meanwhile back on the mount,
Palomar is cleaning his lenses with saline water
As he reassembles his kaleidoscope,
And waits patiently for dog.

Palomar,
Why not... take this chance
To reflect on things that you done did
Thereby making it better?
Why don't you just try without asking why?

What could be better than a room with a view
And a lovely little doggie to share it with?
"When he gets back we will share in our meat.
There's always something good to eat."
(Mmmm.)
So leave him alone in his observatory,
Rejoin the little dog in our story.
He's run off with some cur who's bearing his pups.
That's the last of his tale.

Palomar,
What's wrong? Where'd your dog go?
Well, he's gone for good,
And that goes to show you
That love is thicker than brains in a man
Or a dog.
It's the same thing.

Triangles on the Wall
by Martin Tielli

He used to take a lot of drugs,
But now he's okay. He's doing fine.
He doesn't need to take the drugs anymore.

He used to drink a lot of alcohol.
He used to smoke a lot of cigarettes.
He used to hang around in bars sorta like this one
With stupid florescent, government issue triangles on the wall.

And you know?
He had a girlfriend, her name was Satan.
... But I guess it was for her protection,
Because she was perfectly nice.
She was about the only thing
That made him seem smart.
He had a girlfriend, they called her Satan.

And you know?
The city is a place
Where I can sit and they write funky songs,
And I know, my brain it is a place,
And I don't want to write the funking songs anymore.

He used to smoke a lot of drugs.
He used to snort it in the stalls,
But now he's into fitness.
He used to smoke a lot of cigarettes.
He used to drink a lot of alcohol.
He used to hang around in bars
With triangles on the wall.

P.R.O.D.
by Dave Bidini and Dave Clark

(One, two. One, two, three, four...)

Well, all day long we beat on a drum.
We get our sound out of chewing bubble gum.
Well, they give us headlines when all we tell are jokes.
We got word they aren't very funny.

Suck in your cheeks, smile and wave.
We are the People's Republic of Dave.

We don't mess with things that are loaded or caged.
We watch TV with a God-given rage.
We don't finish until we turn the page.
I'm damn mad at you, your name is Preston Manning, so take this.

Thunder and lightning made us the same.
You'd be surprised, but the answer is plain.
Watch humans, some do, mount up and go far.
But here and others just strum their guitars.

Now, don't be offended if we stay all night and play.
It's not that we're not grateful for your hospitality.
But there's too many devils in this town who stop and cheer.
We ward them off with music and beer.

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
by Gordon Lightfoot

The charters sail off in the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitchee Gumee.
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore, 26,000 tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed,
When the skies of November turn gloomy.

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms,
It left fully loaded for Cleveland,
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feeling?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound,
A wave broke over the railing,
And every man knew as the captain did too,
Was the Witch of November come stealing.
The dawn came late, and the breakfast had to wait,
The gales of November came slashing.
When afternoon came it was freezing rain,
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck,
Saying, "Fellas, it's too rough to feed you."
At seven pm, the main hatchway caved in,
"Fellas, it's been good to know you."
The captain wired in he had water coming in.
The good ship and crew was in peril,
And later that night when its lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any man know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Thunder Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind them.
They may have split up, or they might have capsized.
They may have broke deep and took water.
All that remains is the faces, names
Wives, sons, and daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice water mansions.
Old Michigan steams like a young person's dreams,
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what the shit factory sent her.
The iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
At the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times,
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitchee Gumee.
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead,
When the gales of November come early.
The skies of November get gloomy.

Desert Island Discs
by Dave Bidini and Dave Clark

Desert discs, these desert island discs.
Desert discs, the guy's got great taste.

[Dave]
AC/DC: Back in Black.
The Ramones: Rocket to Russia.
Martha and the Muffins: The Album Dansepark.
These are my desert island discs...

I'm gonna get me to an island.
I'm gonna get me to that place (somewhere, out there, far away; away).
But first I'm gonna have to buy them.
Gonna get me some desert island discs.

[Tim]
The Inbreds: Hilario.
The Inbreds: Kombinator.
The Inbreds: It's Sydney or the Bush.

[Don]
Randy Newman Creates Something New Under the Sun.
Grace Jones: Nightclubbing.
Herbert von Karajan conducts Beethoven's... last one.

What would you take?