1. |
Strange Acts
03:48
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Strange Acts
I make a mess of time now.
I only talk of boundaries.
Still, I take pleasure from life now –
The lives of those around me.
I can't hide the fact:
Strange man, stranger acts.
She's gone, I understand:
Strange acts, stranger man.
You’re still not sure about this:
The unknown voice I’m bringing.
There’s a sound where my mouth is,
But it hardly counts as singing.
I can't hide the fact:
Strange man, stranger acts.
She's gone, I understand:
Strange acts, stranger man.
I have a total lack of empathy and remorse.
That’s a come-on, of course.
I can't hide the fact:
Strange man, stranger acts.
She's gone, I understand:
Strange acts, stranger man.
I can’t hide the fact:
Strange man, stranger acts.
I give nothing back:
Strange man, stranger acts.
David Safran / Anchorhold Music. ©2011
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2. |
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Woman Astride, Facing Away
And once again you’re let in:
To please me and feed me, and then give.
Oh, baby, I’m not selfish –
I’m inwardly attentive.
I must accept that love is all her play
Woman astride, facing away.
I want a man to love it,
Not wander among the trees;
A man who is half-triumphant,
A man who is half-guilty.
And, yes, “you’re quite boring,” she might say
Woman astride, facing away.
You can feel so drunk and grateful.
You can press your lips to her thighs.
You can think that she will save you,
But you don’t view her from all sides.
Oh, I’d marry her but she intends to stay
A woman astride, facing away.
David Safran / Anchorhold Music. ©2009
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3. |
Adult Things
04:12
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Adult Things
And so the days go fleeting,
Can’t trust those candle spells –
It hurts my friends are breaking,
The worst is, they all do it well.
There is no golden thigh to view,
No Paris in the spring.
Yet I still feel a tingle or two
Waiting for adult things.
We slip away in the confusion,
We embrace and flee.
Nothing like sex to ruin
A sense of intimacy.
I know, I know, it’s tiring, dear:
Light people, lighter flings.
Yet some of us are smiling here
Waiting for adult things.
And they say desire is passing,
But I’ve wanted you from the start.
The prayers don’t change
With time or age –
Just spread to different parts.
Now I stand within the garden
At Holy Comforter.
There’s snow upon the marble
And a work that won’t endure.
I’m aging very fast these days.
I look for lines to sing.
And sometimes I go past play
Waiting for adult things.
David Safran / Anchorhold Music. ©2009
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4. |
The Ugliness of Others
04:35
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With an old friend at Danny’s Tavern.
I’m in my best unstable.
She says, “You look the same, man –
Though shorter and less faithful.”
And wine and trust and laughter:
At my age, a bother.
What I’m really after
Is the ugliness of others.
Oh my perfect lover
I’m happy that you’re home
In the ugliness of others
And not my own.
I’m by myself all day long;
I’ve become more settled.
Don’t need to climb out of the swamp,
Just bring it up a level.
I “make love” for tradition,
I don’t believe or wonder
For I see in all positions
The ugliness of others.
Oh my perfect lover
I’m happy that you’re home
In the ugliness of others
And not my own.
Life went by while I learned to
Turn out my share of shit.
Have I strayed from the Path of Virtue?
Or have I walked right into it?
So this wild, panicked drunk
In fact just longs for daycare.
I worked hard to get off Planet Clunk.
I work harder now to stay there.
Oh my perfect lover
I’m happy that you’re home
In the ugliness of others
And not my own.
David Safran / Anchorhold Music. ©2010
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5. |
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Months with a lonely woman,
And now she sees the marks.
In all, I am too human
But loveable in parts.
There’s nothing beyond the kisses,
Nothing beyond the kisses
I’ve toured the Hall of Pleasure
Slowly over the years.
It offers lips and fingers,
I ask for eyes and ears.
There’s nothing beyond the kisses,
Nothing beyond the kisses
Each night when you imagine
She’s right there down the hall
You approach the height of passion
Without any touch at all.
There’s nothing beyond the kisses,
Nothing beyond the kisses
David Safran / Anchorhold Music. ©2008
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6. |
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The Life of an Amorous Man
I’m all alone, the mood is right:
My head is clear, my hairshirt’s tight.
For love, I got to strut and grovel.
I’m locked within the heartland here,
My parts that grew now disappear.
A prince like me can’t deal with struggle.
O were I on Parnassus Hill
I’d be just as miserable still.
I’m singing “Lady Mary Ann”
A comb and a glass in my hand
The life of an amorous man.
Our little romance, all in all,
Was worth a circle in a stall.
Some women don’t care to know me.
When it comes to love, they learn the plan:
They close the door, they kiss the hand –
The hand they’d like to cut off slowly.
There’s room in my Halls of Pleasure for you.
There’s room for half the Inquisition, too.
I’m singing “Lady Mary Ann”
A comb and a glass in my hand
The life of an amorous man.
You can choose a husband by the hair
Better do it fast while something’s there.
The style changed: men are now made softer.
And I watch the sunlight on the wall –
I’m responding to the call.
But I’m holding out for a better offer.
Oh a life in love and song is right.
But crank for half an hour, you’ll get a minute of light.
I’m singing “Lady Mary Ann”
A comb and a glass in my hand
The life of an amorous man.
David Safran / Anchorhold Music. ©2005
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7. |
Hysterical Man
03:50
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8. |
Starving Time
03:30
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The winter wore on; your lovers were gone;
The poor gathered ‘round St. Vincent Parish.
Beneath the scarlet and blue, I’d long for you
And your body all dark and restless.
I thought you were mine in that old starving time
Oh, but now I understand:
Though it was please you or please me, I finally see
It’s more important where I don’t put my hand.
Well, I took half the year to discover “sincere”:
I watched my friends sing all clever and wounded.
They used their tune to silence the room
While I lifted their lines and their music.
I said they were mine in that old starving time
Now I am stuck in this Country & Western
I got it all wrong confusing my song
For some little tired confession
The winter, it is past. Your lovers are back.
I wait for the Union Pacific.
I wish you were mine in this old starving time
But it’s comfort we both seem to need.
So blessed and grand are the women and man
Who have grown beyond their greed.
David Safran / Anchorhold Music. ©2006
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9. |
The Weekend
04:17
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David Safran Chicago, Illinois
David Safran is a writer, musician, and producer.. A noted figure in Chicago's music scene, Safran has attracted acclaim for his "boundary-breaking tunes" (WNUR) and dark, provocative lyrics "spike[d]...with humor" (The Chicago Reader).
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