IMAGINARY LINES
Produced by Ric Albano
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Good Friday Written: March 22, 2002 Running Time: 7:50 |
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Lyrics An excrutiating dose of harsh reality On this dreary, dark, cold March afternoon A reputed chunk of my personality Is ground to dust within this airtight room I summon the ghost of the Ancient One Her name is on the tip of my tongue And brace for a sharp ratiocination But unmercifully that blow never comes (So while I'm) Dancing on the head of a stick (Awaiting your) Distinction between Joe Hero & Jack Convict I'll fight the urge to quench The thirst of our ancestor's cravings By not behaving so burned and conned As my illusion of grandeur slowly crashes One underlying discourse starts within Will today's holy palms become the ashes That'll accompany tomorrow's changing hymns? And so that brings us to Good Friday, "We both knew this day would someday come" Although fasting from meat may make you hungry I'd have never believed you'd eat your young (In a room off) Pothole infested roads we'd play (Those relative) Games of black & white & shades of gray While fueling the urge to fill The void in our ancestor's yearnings Without concerning this new paragon Forsaken descendants (forsaken descendants, forsaken descendants) Mechanical offspring (mechanical offspring, mechanical offspring) You'll never have children (never have children, you'll never have children) While the burden consumes you (burden consumes you, burden consumes you) Forsaken ancestry (forsaken ancestry) Tear down the Temple wall. Firebomb the pyramids. Level the twin towers, then run! But no one reminds me like you do Of the ideals & ambitions that have been lost Of all those naïve conclusions Where we'd arrive, fooled That the best things in life must harbor cost And so we return to Good Friday A verge that we've expected all the while? Can either of us see beyond today? May Saturday's dawn yet be compiled? (Harmoniously) Singing the songs of yesterday (In an attempt to) Fabricate those verbal games we play Our aria is composed of tunes Of our ancestor's likeness- Too polite to seize our day - Carpe diem! I want it all & I want it right now! Forsaken opportunity (forsaken opportunity, forsaken opportunity) Situation unforeseen (situation unforeseen, situation unforeseen) You never did prepare for (never did prepare for, you never did prepare for) This day as reality (this day as reality, day as reality) Forsaken opportunity! Tear down the fortress walls. Back-fill your foxhole. Good Friday has come and now has gone! |
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Produced by Ric Albano Engineered by Paul Smith Recorded starting on April 8, 2005 at Saturation Acres Studio, Danville, Pa. Performers Ric Albano - Keys, Bass, Vocals Bret Alexander - Guitars Ron Simasek - Drums Appears on:
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| Written by Ric Albano  © 2002 All Rights Reserved. |
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The Greatest (and Longest) Song Ever Written | |||||||||
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