Song 1 Lyrics by Pagoda

Song 1

Just droning.
August 24th 2004 [2004]
It's the first morning of our little experiment.
[It's the first morning]
I'll try and write a little bit each day
but I don't know if I can be consistent.
[I'm never consistent]
It's hard for some reason
while I'm making music, to keep a journal.
[It's impossible.]
Sitting now, at this table,
looking out at the industrial mock warehouses,
the lawn. [the green]
They line the perimeter of my vision.
[protruding]
The sky gray, orange, [into the earth]
waking up. [into the clouds]
Got here last night with Ryan.
We have to find Luca, an engineer.
He set up...
he set up these um, [looks pathetic] these sessions.
He was waiting there with his girl, Isa. [they were cool]
He's on a honeymoon.
He took us to the apartment
[been here a long time]
along with is his friends...
[almost a month]
some of his friends who had been in the city
to create a sea diving business.
[almost a month now]
It's nicer than I thought it would be.
[Sir James]
I assumed it would be some warehouses
with cold water which I probably would've rather-ed.
[passed out]
Whenever I'm working it seems
that the closer I am to the ground, the better.
[his hand clutching]
We went and dropped off our stuff, took a shower,
and we head over to the studio.
[last night]
When we get there [I left a note]
we start rehearsing.
Horrible, sloppy, zombie-like [Jamie]
incoherent babble of sleep deprived
walking dead [it was quarter to 4]
headaches, and jet lag. [in the morning]
Took a break in the alley. [can only stand]
People came.
They talked, they laughed.
Some things had no meaning to us.
[moved across]
Smoked some hash [rolled to sir James] had a beer.
Offered to sleep, we received.
[make sure]
I reminded myself. [turned on the clock radio]
Went back to the room. [church choir]
It was better. More coherent.
[went back to the kitchen]
Relaxed.
Still can't sleep.
I've decided that if I'm going to be awake,
I might as well do something productive.
My room was filled with dirty dishes,
bread crumbs, walnut shells, empty cigarette packs,
beer cans, candle wax.
I grabbed a plastic bag,
held on the Virgin Mary's head.
The cast iron one that black eyes
bought for me at a flea market while she was here.
I filled the plastic bag full of garbage
and I laid the head of Mary against my boots.
I emptied all the cigarette butts into a dish
and I started sorting through the ones
that still had tobacco in them.
I pinched all the butts dry dripping the tobacco
into a small espresso cup.
I swept up. I organized my things.
Telephone, masking tape, EQ pedal, four double A batteries,
a dish with three candle's melted into each other,
two razors, a small cassette recorder, three lighters,
ummm... three bottles of spices
I use when we have food to cook.
I went into the other room.
I saw sir James roll over on the couch
muttering something in his sleep.
Fuckin' bugs.
I went into the bathroom, I turned on the water.
Then I went to the kitchen, got the boiling water.
I went back into the bedroom.
I swept up under the rug, under the bed, I made the bed.
I made a small pile.
Put the shoes under the door until later tomorrow.
I made the bed even though I knew
I was going to mess it up.
Then I wrote a note to sir James explaining I couldn't sleep.
Can't sleep. I can't sleep. Make sure I'm up by 8.
I turned on the clock radio.
The only station I could find was church choir music.
I walk back into the kitchen, and pour some boiling water
in a tin cup sitting up upside down under the sink.
A brown paper bag in the sink.
I look inside. Nuts. I remember sir James telling me to...
I found some nuts today. Some of them are still good.
I put one in my mouth. I cracked it open.
I cracked the shell with my thumbnail.
Rotten. Cracked another one. It was good. I ate it.
I walked back into my room. Sat down.
I set the tea down on a stool I had in the corner.
Got a chair.
Sat in the chair. I burned some incense.
The last of it. The last we have.
I lit a cigarette out of the tobacco in the cup.
I lit it. I sipped the tea. I smoked.
I picked up my journal. I wrote this.
I'm gonna try and sleep again. Gonna try and sleep again...
sleep again, sleep, sleep, sleep...
So much for keeping a consistent journal.
It's day 6 or 7. I laid the blueprint of 16 songs after Ryan left.
So in addition to the 10 that we laid down,
we're beginning a very ambitious project.
Luca's worried [faith is undivided]
we're gonna lay down so many with the intent
of dropping some. [of a piece]
I noticed [willing mind]
a change
[rewind to find, go find, find]
less optimistic.
I realize it has a lot to do with me. I feel.
I think that's because I'm afraid.
I'm narcoleptic. It's true.
for helping me, like Luca, Jamie, Ryan, black eyes...
wash my hands. Give them something worthwhile.
[Child voice laughing: Pagoda!]