More than the Nightmare Station

by Cannonball Statman

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credits

released July 7, 2013

Jesse made this, in the USA. 2006-2010.
Zach Fine played sitar on “The Black Squirrel”.

license

all rights reserved

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Cannonball Statman Antarctica

NYC native / traveling musician and multimedia artist.

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Track Name: Campaigning in Multiple Visions
In Manhattan, there is a beautiful view,
longing to escape a troubled past of euphemisms and vivid nightmares;
the professor took me to the beautiful view,
and said goodbye, like the coward he was.

They showed him the view, and he was pleased;
I saw the view from the room with no windows.
What madness drew us to this room?
Philadelphia, a man by many numbers.

I know those who have stayed in the view,
and come back with frightening new eyes;
when gold became a useless cover,
my eyes were opened for awhile.

Now I can't even think about it,
because at seven, I dreamed every night,
even when I couldn't sleep,
because reality can only open your eyes so far
before the gold returns once more,
ready to blind you with yet another beautiful view,
and soon, there is no truth in sight,
just the way you like it.

Isn't it funny how people can have such a striking resemblance
to one another?
When I saw you out of the corner of my eye,
I could swear you were someone else.

Isn't it funny how people can be one another?
And at once, you were all the same,
with deep thoughts of deeper explorations
of the far corners of the human eye,
where everything was new,
and everyone is there;
it's a strange world.

And some people just wanna play acoustic guitar
on a mattress of dying dreams,
and die into a beautiful view;
I don't know what I want.

And some people live in the '20s,
with love for women in the backseats of cars,
and into the bottomless pit
at the edges of the Earth;
it's a strange world.

In Manhattan, there is a beautiful view;
in the professor's eyes, as he jogged
from room to room.
Track Name: On My Way up the Block
I thought I'd found a way out;
on my way up the road,
a woman pulled up in a car.
She asked me if I needed a ride.

I thought I'd found a way out;
on my way up the block, I saw a black squirrel.

There is no way out;
only a way to go further and further in.
Track Name: Midnight in Kingston (2009)
Driving at night on the highway;
eyes fixed on the road.
Someone told me just that night,
it was hard to let things go.
I've been avoiding this feeling
that nothing much was real;
we dance around in circles,
and decide what really mattered,
and it's getting colder.

They were playing some kind of music down the stairs the other night;
I thought of you, or someone I knew,
and it's getting colder.

They've been trying to put you away for awhile,
and now, they finally have;
just another thing to worry about
in our tiny sea of atoms.
Driving at night on the highway;
eyes fixed on the road.
Someone told me just that night,
it was hard to let things go.
We dance around in circles,
and soon, we pretend to feel;
we dance around in circles,
then find out what really happened,
and it's getting colder,

and you didn't know what to do about this little bit of jet lag,
but soon, you'll forget,
and remember again,
and it's getting colder.

You'll meet all the most valuable poets you've ever known,
but couldn't see;
you'll wonder if they're real,
and they will be, for just awhile.
Staring at you on the subway;
nowhere much to go.
Nothing much to lose,
except for everyone I know.
Midnight in Kingston,
and I don't remember why;
someone told me just that night
there was something after you died,
and it's getting colder.

The days are getting shorter.
Track Name: Stranger Dreams
Your Facebook page knows more about you than you do;
than you do, in your dreams.
In your dreams, there's a man they call the Masked Disturbance
from the Uncharted Corridors of Known Existence.
The lady sits at the table, and everyone stares at her;
they think she's kind of crazy.
They call her the Lady in Blue.
Yesterday, you rode the train with a man in a vampire suit;
you thought he was real, and maybe he was.
It's a strange world,
and when gold becomes a useless cover,
I trust you'll know where to go from here.

I've had stranger dreams,
between you and me.

A man came by from the government,
and he wants to know your name;
he's checked into the motel in the center of town,
an expert from the top of his field,
come to track down a Masked Disturbance
from the Uncharted Corridors of Known Existence,
and his sights are set on you.
It's a strange world,
and your friends just wanna laugh
at strange dreams about things they've done before;
but not quite that way.
Not quite that way!
It's a strange world,
and your friends are too involved in other things.

I've had stranger dreams,
between you and me.

And your friends just wanna play around with strange girls,
and leave them for dead,
when they find out
there is something wrong with their heads.

It's a strange world,
and I've had stranger dreams.
Track Name: Blue Dimensions
The city is dying;
the city is dead.
Everyone's dying,
and everyone's dead;
and nothing feels the same anymore,
and most recently, I was stuck inside of who-knows-where;
I met the strangest people, who I'll never meet again,
and one of them had a plan to open up our eyes.

The city is living;
the city's alive.
Everyone's living;
everyone's here,
and I can't feel anything anymore.
Saw someone I knew the other day,
hadn't seen him in awhile;
he wore a new cover that I saw, but couldn't see,
and I had to walk on by, because my head went numb.

Some win;
some lose.
Some die;
some escape,
and I don't know how these people live.
Saw someone I knew, but couldn't talk for long;
she was wondering if I remembered her,
or if I was real at all.
I told her that depends on how much you are willing to believe;
and I told her this:
"I saw your Braindead Fisherman, he looked a lot like me;
and the Suicidal Superhero came rolling in through black,
and the Interdimensional Diplomat came in, through sky."
Track Name: The End of the Day
I love your neighborhood;
it makes me laugh,
in the beginning of Autumn,
somewhere towards the East.
I love your neighborhood,
because everyone's laughing
at the end of the day.

In this city, we are all walking.
In this city, we are all submitting.
In this city, we are all dominating.
In this city, we are all dying.

It's a beautiful day for a walk around the streetlights;
it's the beginning of Autumn,
at the end of the day.

I want to talk to you with my eyes wide open,
and I know we've got to save the world
with paper,
and I know we're all getting tired of
sticks and stones;
the funniest things can happen in the darkest situations,
and the greatest things can happen in the strangest places,
and the strangest things can happen.

In your mind, we're all lonely people,
looking for someone to take us out of
this insanity that warps us,
and makes us lonely insomniacs riding on someone else's train to work;
in someone else's head,
in someone else's mind,
in someone else,
in someone else's dream.

I want to talk to you with my eyes wide open,
and I know we've got to save the world
with paper,
and I know we're all getting tired of
sticks and stones,
and driving uselessly on the highway of blue dimensions
for spare change.

It's a beautiful day for a walk around the streetlights;
it's the beginning of Autumn,
at the end of the day.
Track Name: Rockport, ME
She's wondering if anyone has died here,
in this city where people come and go;
they're saying she's borderline insane,
and she's borderlines from Rockport, Maine.
She'd kill a man if she had to,
to die somewhere else;
night falls on Westchester,
and she lies awake in bed,
and she's borderlines from Rockport, Maine.

She woke up one morning
to a call from her best friend;
she said "I'm sick and tired of your friend Mary Jane,
she's driving you insane."
She called up her dealer,
said "I need a fix, and fast";
she said, "maybe not the usual,
maybe some of that harder stuff
that'll make me forget my past".
Now she's borderlines from Rockport, Maine.

Her roommate had a dream last night
about trying to escape;
she said "I've got some things to do on the way back,
and I'd like you to come for the ride".
She said "I know, technically, it's not allowed,
but my home is close to yours;
it's right by the harbor, that's where it's always been,
in the village of Rockport, Maine."
Track Name: The Black Squirrel
What he really loved about this neighborhood on the West side of Brooklyn
was the small hour between night and day,
when dawn faded in through the brownstones,
the streets slowly crowded with people,
and the Interdimensional Diplomat came in, through sky.

At seven, I met the strangest people;
the girls in the living room taught me how to laugh at television,
or friends who screamed at their socks,
or the boy who sang "joy, joy, joy"
and screamed at people in the showers,
and friends who screamed at their socks would scream
fairy tales aloud,
while having strange relationships with girls who rode donkeys,
and none of these people would be forgotten,
as these people were not the foes modern television and adult superiors
would make us out to believe,
because even in the darkest hour,
we knew we were all safe from each other.

Gold was the real problem;
the gold, which shuts your eyes in the middle of the day,
and tells you there is nothing you need to see here,
but I want to see.

I want to see everything,
with my eyes wide open;
but gold, gold of modern television,
gold of adult superiors,
is warping my mind beyond control,
and it's spreading
everywhere.

It can't be diagnosed,
because everyone has it;
and now that everyone has it,
who needs to cure it?

The gold tells you exactly what you want to hear.
You walk down the street;
to the left, there was a murder yesterday.
It tells you to turn to the right,
and you never have to turn left again.
To the right, there is a beautiful woman;
you turn to the left,
and you never have to turn right again.

On my way up the road, a woman pulled up in a car;
she asked me if I needed a ride.
I could swear she said
"come with me, if you want to live."
I said "no, thanks";
everything changed after that car drove off.

On my way up the block, I saw a black squirrel;
I kept walking, like I always did.
Some people just get lucky;
I was stuck inside who-knows-where,
and in this neighborhood on the West side of Brooklyn,
in the small hour between night and day,
when dawn faded in through the brownstones,
and the streets slowly crowded with people,
the Interdimensional Diplomat came in,
through sky.
Track Name: Driving at Night on the Highway
I was born inside a fire truck trying to figure out where the smoke was coming from;
I was born inside a movie that began with a party.
Everyone came for me, but I wasn't there.

Why?
I'm driving at night on the highway,
and I'm scared.

I was born inside a liar, who lay atop a stretcher,
and lied with every word he said,
and wished he could set things straight.
But he couldn't set things straight;
he was a liar.

I was born inside a garden near Kings Highway;
I went to see a friend from long ago.
His home had expanded.
None of his doors were open.
His mother called the police;
the police took me to a garden,
and asked me if I knew the garden.
I said "yes, I do;
and I can find my way home from here."
Track Name: Laws of Physics
I wish I could have your social security number;
I'd use it every day.
I'd buy houses in your name,
with autumn leaves in the air,
'cause the laws of physics are changing;
changing every day.
The laws of physics are changing,
and we're getting older.

I wish I could have your computer's password;
I'd use it every day.
I'd send flowers to your desktop,
and you'd put them on your Facebook page,
and you'd wonder why, and you'd wonder why,
and you'd wonder how you got so lucky.

I'm just another hacker, and I'm trying to make do,
because the recession depression isn't the last of it;
I'm suffering from an ailment with a beautiful face,
that would be you, and everything I want to be.

I wish I could give you something,
but nothing I could give would be for real;
love is an unusual journey for me.
A stranger way of being right.

You know, I'm a master of technical difficulties,
and I love you for your technical smile;
I'm nothing more than a primitive mathematician
deep inside.
Track Name: Let's Scare Kids on Halloween (Stop Feeling Sorry for Me)
She was still alone inside,
living her life on the F train
to her Brooklyn apartment;
she fell in love once a day,
and took her pills in the morning,
and at night.

She sat alone in her bedroom,
in the afternoon light;
the sun shines through to
visions about you,
'cause she's still alone,

like the boy who was self-conscious about his teeth,
or the boy who was self-conscious about his teeth,
or the people who admit their own flaws,
or the people who will write their own songs,
or the girl who tries to drive her own car,
and they all got together for a party,
and she was outside, in the back, something with cigars,
'cause she's still alone,

like the boy who was self-conscious about his teeth,
or the boy who was self-conscious about his teeth,
or the people who admit their own flaws,
or the people who will write their own songs,
or the people who will drive their own cars,
'cause she's still alone.

Stop feeling sorry for me;
it makes me feel a bit uneasy.
Stop feeling sorry for me;
these bureaucrats make me uneasy.
Stop feeling sorry for me.

Let's scare kids on Halloween;
let's make them scared of the trees.
Let's scare kids on Halloween;
it will be just you and me.

Or you could sit outside the bagel store,
where there are always too many policemen anyway;
you can pass by truancy cops,
or heroin junkies,
and say "hello,"
but you know, they're all just looking for a fix anyway,
and you are, too, but you might get lucky today,
'cause you're not alone.

Let's scare kids on Halloween;
let's make them scared of the trees.
Let's scare kids on Halloween;
it will be just you and me.

Let's scare kids on Halloween.
Track Name: Controlling the Dog
You're not walking the dog; he's walking you.
You're not stealing his food; he's stealing you.
You're not throwing his life around; he's throwing you,
but he's too nice to let you know.

You're not fooling anyone; he's fooling you
by playing dumb all day, which is exactly you.
He's not slow; he's faster than you,
but he's too busy with more important things.

You're not controlling the dog; he's controlling you,
by leading you subtly to the trap created by you,
and in case you didn't realize, he's coming after you,
but he doesn't have to break the rules.

He's not a dog; the dog is you.
He's led you subtly to the trap created by you;
now you look slower than you,
and he looks kind of disobedient.

Now you're not walking the dog; the dog is you.
I think it's time to play a game of chess with you,
and whoever wins takes the crown;
isn't that why life lets you down?
Track Name: My Love is Away
I once knew a girl who gave me a thought.
She looked so strange; she was bit by a shark.
I had something to say that very day.
Nothing to say; my love is away.
My love is away, my love's away;
my love is away.
My, my, my love is away, my love's away;
my love is away.

I went somewhere I wanted to go before.
I liked it a lot; I could've gone there some more.
She was still around, she was looking down.
She told me her say; she was going away.
My love found a way to send me letters at day, every day.
My, my, my love is away, my love's away;
my love is away.

I thought she would stay a little more.
I waited around, where I'd been to before.
She never came 'round, and my heart would pound,
so I said my say; my love was away.
I once had a way to give her letters at day, but I had no say.
I, I, I once knew a way to send her letters at day, but I had no say.
I found my own way to give her letters at day, every day,
but, but, but she knew her own way to send me letters at day.
I had no way.
I, I, I had a way to keep her letters at day; I had no say.
Nothing to say; ay, ay, ay, got nothing to say.
My love is away.
My love's away.
Track Name: Midnight in Kingston (2010)
Driving at night on the highway;
eyes fixed on the road.
Someone told me just that night,
it was hard to let things go.
I've been avoiding this feeling
that nothing much was real;
we dance around in circles,
then decide what really mattered,
and it's getting colder.

They were playing some kind of music down the stairs the other night;
I thought of you, or someone I knew,
and it's getting colder.

They've been trying to put you away for awhile,
and now, they finally have;
just another thing to worry about
in our tiny sea of atoms.
Driving at night on the highway;
eyes fixed on the road.
Someone told me just that night,
it was hard to let things go.
We dance around in circles,
and soon, we pretend to feel;
we dance around in circles,
then find out what really happened,
and it's getting colder,

and you didn't know what to do about this little bit of jet lag,
but soon, you'll forget,
and remember again,
and it's getting colder.

You'll meet all the most valuable poets you've ever known,
but couldn't see;
you'll wonder if they're real,
and they will be, for just awhile.
Staring at you on the subway;
nowhere much to go.
Nothing much to lose,
except for everyone I know.
Midnight in Kingston,
and I don't remember why;
someone told me just that night
there was something after you died,
and it's getting colder.

The days are getting shorter.
Track Name: Think Outside the Box
And we end where we began;
what some may see as a dead end,
others may see as
a beginning.

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