Get all 7 John Mendelssohn releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Christian Right Is Like a Beacon, Today Here, Tomorrow the World, Johnny Ned Mendelssohn and the Clean Hankies: Greatest Hits, Vol. 3, Britain Today, Return to Benidorm, Isambard Jones & His Orchestra, and I Have Nothing Against Homosexuality So Long as No Fellow Male Tries to Force Himself On Me, and at This Point, I Don't Think I'm in Much Danger.
1. |
Scissors, Paper, Rock
02:44
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We played craps from dawn to dusk with the sacred shells
Then guzzled schnapps and Gatorade. We’re praying no one tells
Someone told and we were rolled before the judge in chains
“You punks have beauty,” he decreed, but insufficient brains
chorus
Scissors paper rock
If you prefer just flip a coin
I’m going to find
your precious to purloin
I can barely stand these days though I’m still on the run
If God so dislikes sinfulness, then why is it such fun?
One day they’re sure to capture me. My Maker I’ll rejoin
Until then let me nowhere near your precious to purloin
My passport is a forgery — a deft one to be sure
I’ve wandered so relentlessly, it’s all become a blur
It’s February but I have no valentines to send
Perhaps I’ll be a bluesman and purloin some strings to bend.
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2. |
Bury Me at Mar-a-Lago
03:33
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History I think won’t judge us kindly
It’ll say that we’re the villains of the age
We follow loony would-be despots blindly
Instead of having locked them in a cage
I fell between the cracks when I was little
I spent most of my teenage years in Dutch
I would come home drenched in bully spittle
Do I miss those times? Oh very much
Great success brings with it awful pressures
Slanders meant to lacerate are hurled
Rivals try to push you under threshers
Welcome, pal, to MC Escher’s world
chorus
Bury me at Mar-a-Logo in the glistening sand
that one could mistake for sugar.
Oh, wouldn’t that be just too grand!
chorus
Party with the rich and famous.
Chant our host’s disgusting lie
Glorify those who would shame us
We’ll find novel ways to die
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3. |
The Universe
03:39
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love you like the universe, far past measurement
I love you like antiquity. I live you like the scent
of our town;s best restaurant, l love you like aioli
I love you more than Saturn’s rings, eternally and wholly
I love you like the pyramids and like Niagara Falls
I love you like the crumbling of Berlin’s ugly wall
I love you more than Bansky’s art and music by Satie
I love you like a promise kept, and gentle empathy
I love you like devotion and the friends on whom I count
and random acts of kindness and the Sermon on the Mount
I love you like a star-filled sky and gentleness and laughter
I love you enough to hope that there is an hereafter
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4. |
Tough and Bold
03:04
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The shoulders, knees, and hips you’ve got won’t last long past fifty
Your looks are gone. Best hope you’ve got some charm
You’ll wind up on the street if you ain’t been’ thrifty
‘cause medications cost a leg and arm
chorus
Bette Davis hit the nail on the head when she said that getting old
ain’t for sissies. You must be resolute, tough, and bold
The hardest part I think is when acquaintances start dyin’
You went to seven funerals this spring
Each day you’re apt to spend an hour or two cryin’
What fresh horror will tomorrow bring?
You’d flatter me to say
I don’t look much past 60
Some days, tho, I’m feeling 95
I can’t work out much anymore.
It’s just too goddamn painful
I’m grateful at this point to be alive
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5. |
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Tho I have proposed to you
Don’t get too confident
I go through brides like chewing gum
I rarely stay content
chorus
I’ll never break your heart
but I might push you off a cliff
or feed you poisoned tarts
the question’s when, my dear, not if
From halfway through my boyhood
I’ve studied homicide
Whom better to enjoy to enjoy it with
than my blushing birde
Please don’t take it personally.
My fondness isn’t fake
Nothing’s guaranteed in life.
Is this a chance you’ll take?
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6. |
Tabasco
03:04
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In three score years and 15. I’ve never won a race
Oblivion is beckoning that’s something I must face
or maybe my perception’s been distorted by regret
For all I know this moment is as close as I will get
chorus
Another meal with no Tabasco
Another bubble cruelly burst
Another day, a new fiasco
and here I’d thought I’d seen the worst
At last I’m feeling human but it’s probably a hoax
It’s been so long since anyone got pleasure from my jokes
I squandered many chances always thinking more would come
Now hope’s in short supply. I’m semi-conscious now or numb
The hours pass like glaciers. The years now last a week
My heart, although reluctant, still pumps blood. I mustn’t speak
of existential terror. It’s much better to ignore
the fact that in an eye’s blink we won’t be here anymore
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7. |
What a Life I've Led
03:10
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Between the devil and the deep blue sea
between medications and talk therapy
between fruitless yearning and the powers that be
A lassie with thick bangs was waiting
chorus
What a life I’ve lived! Never-ending fun
but I see the finish line ahead
My back’s to the wall. I slow to a crawl
In a month or two I mayl be dead.
Once time was quantified and Atlas had shrugged
and well before diplomatic suites had been bugged
Before hearts were broken and heartstrings were tugged
A babe in a short skirt was waiting
Beyond the factories and brothels and park
Instead of the sweet old silver song of the lark
When everyone was yet to hear her rescue dog bark
A sultry seductress was waiting
Beyond Inner City where the devil runs wild
Far beneath heaven where the tender and mild
Offer redemption to your scarred inner child
My last and best soulmate is waiting
On top of a glacier beginning to melt
Before rabble rousers cursed the hands they’d been dealt
and seldom was heard words benign or heartfelt
Alouche leggy lady is waiting
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8. |
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That’s so rich, you’re saying I’m narcissistic!
You, on whom one counts to go ballistic
hearing an unflattering statistic. Sir!
What a scam! You pose as someone caring
Someone who gives hope to the despairing
Here’s your medal. Thanks so much for sharing. Sir
chorus
In your psyche there’s so schism
Step aside now! Let him through
The poster boy of narcissism
Gorgeous, funny, brilliant you!
Here’s a fact your girlfriend never mentions
You came wrapped in ludicrous pretensions
The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Sir!
chorus
Let’s hope there’s a mirror handy
You’ll abide no flaw
You’re bleeding edge eye candy
That’s settled law
Maybe we should stage an intervention
Maybe someone has a new invention
that can cure your longing for attention, you!
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9. |
The Misfit and Wimp
03:47
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I stand with the kid who’s always picked last
for teams ‘cause he’ll never be agile or fast
I stand with the girl that not one boy thinks hot
I stand with the homeless who queue for a cot
I stand with the mute and with those hard of hearing
And jeer at the pious and the God-fearing.
I feel for the destitute and the unhealthy
and puke on the luxury cars of the wealthy
chorus:
I stand with the misfit and wimp,
the stammering boy and the gimp
with those scorned and bullied from birth
the meek will inherit the earth
I stand with the poor and those lacking clout
with those who’ve resigned themselves to going without
I stand with the addicts who hide from the law
and others condemned for their one tragic flaw
I stand with deserters from rich bastards’ wars
and with one who nose-dives more often soars
I stand with the awkward. I stand with the shy
But for random fortune there too go I
[I stand with those ridiculed and with the shunned
I stand with the gaunt and with the rotund
I stand with the clumsy and with the flustered
I stand with those who just don’t cut the mustard]
I scorn the arrogant, privileged few
whose motto is “Hey, I got mine so fuck you!”
I stand with the rebels and huggers of trees
I stand with the quarterbacks down on their knees
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10. |
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Travel by foot or on a calico nag
Where brains don’t work there’s always brawn
Pour your resentment, baby, into this bag
We’ll leave it on some church’s lawn
chorus:
There’s no Cadillac in our driveway now
There’s a pickup truck with no wheels
My regret is deep but this hill’s too steep
A fellow feels what he feels
A word to the wise is not enough, I am told
I should have bought a paragraph
Of sterner stuff I wasn’t made, but behold!
I think I still can make you laugh
You seemed to mistake me, baby, for someone else
Someone much handsomer than I
I warned you a million times or more but you chose
to view me with an unseeing eye
The lamb isn’t silent anymore
The chickens have come home to roost
I can’t seem to get up off the floor
My vaccine’s may need a boost
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11. |
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I always take the safe path. The other one might lead
somewhere dark and scary where I’d be made to bleed
chorus:
My heart’s become open book that no one wants to read
Republicans are loathsome, a foul and heartless breed
They ridicule or turn their backs on those who are in need
I can’t abide the politicians limiting our speed
Florida and Texas should be made to secede
Behold the flash Italian cars all begging to be keyed!
I haven’t been indicted yet. Don’t ask me how I’ll plead
No electric scooter can replace a trusty steed
I don’t think you’re a baker although I know you knead
The world is going to hell but those we voted for won’t heed
the scared meteorologists. It’s terrifying, indeed!
The academic upstairs won’t wear anything but tweed
We argue sometimes heatedly but mostly we’ve agreed
My next door neighbour Olaf ain’t no Viking. He’s a Swede
IKEA, though is Danish, if it’s furniture you need
I’ve been hassled often after games I’ve refereed
I know that life’s uncertain though and nothing’s guaranteed
Some folks look down on rescue dogs and must have pedigreed
When it comes to pets, though, l’ll stick with my centipede
My bladder said I’m bursting, What a thing to have decreed
I did what any fella would. Found privacy and peed
Your grandest expectations I’m attempting to exceed
Sometimes I can’t help feel though like a kitten that’s been treed
Gordon Gecko shot to fame by celebrating greed
He used lots of toot, I’d guess, but very little weed
Please excuse me now. I’ve got some riot acts to read
Praise to Mr. Jesus. After all these year I’m freed!
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John Mendelssohn London, UK
John Mendelssohn is a withered old embarrassment from Santa Monica, California, who, n spite of fervent listener indifference, or even antipathy, been writing and recording music for over 50 years. NYC Rock called him “one of our more unique pop personalities, and like no one you have ever heard. From hard jingle-jangles to experimental symphonic pop, his taste roams the landscape.” ... more
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