I recently had the privilege of performing in the Vagina Epilogues, a show with a format similar to the Monologues that was put together to benefit our local women’s shelter. The idea of having “epilogues” is the focus on what happens after, to kind of showcase where the world is at now that Eve Ensler has made such an impact. The pieces dealt with both dark and light topics, and I was honored to perform two songs: the Mooncup commercial’s “Love Your Vagina” and the Bloodhound Gang’s “The Vagina Song” (with kinder lyrics.) It’s been a long time since I’ve had the chance to hang out with such a smart, funny, kind group of women.
Did you know my sister sings too? While I’ve often encouraged her to join me so we can jump on the Blood Relatives Make The Cutest Musical Groups bandwagon (I think there’s room on it after Oasis and Chevelle fell off) she has this thing called a Full Time Job that apparently just won’t allow it. Silly employment! Don’t people know there are better things to do than feed yourselves and pay rent? Enjoy this little ditty my father recorded while we were hanging with my cousins last week.
A new song I wrote and recorded today.
two things! first, a criticism of the NSA and its project, Stellar Wind, which collects data on millions of Americans for totally inane reasons. not available in video form yet, it can be listened to here: https://soundcloud.com/star-dust-20/stellar-wind
secondly, a song about how sad i am to be aging, peppered with embarrassing photos from my previous days.
Every jerk who knows me knows I have been frequently suicidal. I wrote this song as a combination petulant shout / resigned sigh at the fact that no, I am not going to kill myself, but that doesn’t mean the urge goes away.
Tell the preacher that I died but he don’t need to anoint me
Tell the fuckers from my past that they should’ve gone and joined me
Tell my sister that I love her, she’s the only one that I could stand.
Tell my mama to stop drinkin, she’s the reason why I did it
Tell the jealous girls with boyfriends that they did not in fact hit it
Tell my few remaining friends if they know me then they’ll get it
After all, we saw it coming
Never once thought to deflect it
And oh, I wish that I was dead and rotting in the ground
or lying sweetly in a casket with the public saying
what a pity, what a shame, she never played her part,
what a pity,what a shame, she died of a broken heart.
Tell the married men I’m sorry and I never meant to hurt them
Tell the people who are listening that I’m sorry to desert them
Tell the ones who feel guilty that their part was very small
Tell the people who do wonder that I think I love them all
Tell the boy who sells guitars that I never did stop wishing
that the girl that he is with now would be kind in her position
Tell the boy in California that I never will stop thinking
Of the meadow that we lay in staring wildly without blinking