Written in Eb major with some keyboards – unusual for this accoustic-oriented ensemble.

lyrics

I know these two old men,
With their coffees at the SiSi cafe.
Each sip takes hours, they just laugh,
And the day slips away.
It’s so divine,
This waste of time.
So Divine.
Then in the morning,
She sleeps in late and misses the show,
By the time she opens her eyes,
The sunrise has come and gone.
It’s so divine,
This waste of time,
Is so divine,
This waste of time,
Is so divine.
He sits and plays these same bits,
On his guitar,
Just toss the words that won’t work and
Pretty soon you have yourself a song.
It’s so divine,
This waste of time,
Is so divine,
This waste of time,
Is so divine.
I’m savoring each minute of my day,
There’s no way,
Slow and Steady always wins the race,
It’s so divine
She’s one of those people,
You just love to hang around.
Each moment is precious and each memory
Makes you want to shout aloud.
It’s so divine,
This waste of time,
Is so divine.
Is so divine.

credits

from Elmer Agate for Lovers and Others, track released 13 September 2007
All instruments and vocals by John Mac and the Moraggots. Special thanks to Steven Cravis on keyboards.

Furious the sound,
When the water hits the ground,
Nothing changes when the rains all all night long.

I seen it in her eyes when the car slipped,
On the rain-slick road just north along the coast.
For a moment there well we couldn’t breath
For all the moisture in the air.
I said a prayer right then that the morning find us home.

Just like two sailors on a storm-wracked sea we joked,
Lest the panic that we felt caused us to drown.
On either side the water crept up
Like the rising tide.
I said, “Oh dear, shout out when you see the lights of town.”

Furious the sound,
When the water hits the ground,
All the same the rain just fell man all night long.

Curious the sound,
When the stormin’ sea surrounds.
Nothing changes when the rain falls all night long.

Don’t poke your head out lest it get wet.
Close the windows, draw the drapes and stay indoors.
The storm it seems it had another day yet,
To test the window panes and rattle all the doors.

Furious the sound…

Each sign that we passed I checked our progress on the map,
I was a pilot with both hands lashed to the wheel.
With the wind up and the rain so thick,
We could hardly see our fingertips,
Until the sun burst through and the road dipped down into town.

Furious the sound…

Darling, you seen me at my worst…
Broke down and run to seed but still these first things first,
Like how you always find,
In a feeling as sublime,
As whiskey love,
It tells me you’re the same.

Asleep while outside the sun it glows,
Warm dreams of Irish things shots lined up in a row,
I recall a childhood rhyme,
And suddenly I’m feeling fine,
Seems this whiskey love,
Chased me through my mind.

I swore the last time,
That before I took another drink,
I’d die and so I slowly go
Just where that whiskey takes me.

You’re a friend that’ll help me down these stairs,
Tuck me in turn off the light when no one else there cares.
And as I slowly simplify,
One last friend to see me dying
Of this whiskey love,
That stayed true to the end.

This whiskey love…
This whiskey love…
This whiskey love…

Lyrics Index | Home

Several days ago, my good friend Steve Cravis insisted that I record such notions somewhere so that all and sundry might partake in my musical wisdoms.

Lesson #1 – Should you choose to seek the musical promised land, where melody and rhyme form the perfect construct, you must first strive to string three to four chords together. On Monday, play the aforementioned progression 348 times at varying tempos and time signatures. Add libation as needed. At 142 repetitions, add a chord. At 197, subtract. As you run through the chords, hum some notes – like one of those commuters on BART who talk to themselves on their blueteeth. Which notes doesn’t matter. But don’t stop until you have something that sounds like it fits the chords. Then put everything away.

When Thursday rolls around, you’ll only remember the good bits. By accident or because you’ve forgotten everything else you tried on Monday, you’ll patch over the gaps with something better and likely nothing you thought of to begin with.

Next time a word on lyrics.

Regards,

John Mac