music for money
from 13 songs by ::leslie jill helpert º≠º
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lyrics
i have smelt georgia like this before
the slight night wind half sits
and i have been an oak tree
brooding for centuries
and i have been marsh land
simmering for high tide
if i said i didn't want to go deaf again
and wake up with a voice box like a crow
and have all my clothes not reek of smoke
would you believe i could make music for money?
laying on the lawn
agelessly last night
eyes pasted to the full face
of the moon's giving light
and now you're expecting to hear a line in the likes
of a wise moon cliche kind of thing
but on the contrary she was telling me She did not know and I willed what life would bring.
i had a feeling then that fate
was just a fancy get up for fear
and everything we'd ever want
is plainly just right here.
if i said i didn't want to have to think too hard
but rather just to breathe
and let these songs, go 'head, write themselves
and keep no thing up my sleeve.
if i said i didn't want to have to hear no more
the cruel crack of the PA as I un-plug my guitar chord
even the sound-man gave me the safe thumb-up sign, yet this seems to happen at least every time.
if i said i wanna sing this loud, mic-free
would you believe i could make music for money?
I have smelt georgia like this before
it's the home-coming spray of old knowing
something, darling, too slow to walk away
too dense to question where it's going.
if I said i'd really rather always flick my passionate spit
then dance lamely crowned some television diva
if my music don't come with contract where tacked on is a clause that makes it a law i sell out to commercials for mascara,
if I'm not satisfied with the spiritual infiltration in the fashion world and express myself beyond my clothes skin blood and bone
if i craft to keep up with what's really going on and reach out sometimes by being alone
and work piously to maintain a simple heart
would you believe i could make a living off of this art...
and make music for money
pay me pay me pay me
i make music for money.
the slight night wind half sits
and i have been an oak tree
brooding for centuries
and i have been marsh land
simmering for high tide
if i said i didn't want to go deaf again
and wake up with a voice box like a crow
and have all my clothes not reek of smoke
would you believe i could make music for money?
laying on the lawn
agelessly last night
eyes pasted to the full face
of the moon's giving light
and now you're expecting to hear a line in the likes
of a wise moon cliche kind of thing
but on the contrary she was telling me She did not know and I willed what life would bring.
i had a feeling then that fate
was just a fancy get up for fear
and everything we'd ever want
is plainly just right here.
if i said i didn't want to have to think too hard
but rather just to breathe
and let these songs, go 'head, write themselves
and keep no thing up my sleeve.
if i said i didn't want to have to hear no more
the cruel crack of the PA as I un-plug my guitar chord
even the sound-man gave me the safe thumb-up sign, yet this seems to happen at least every time.
if i said i wanna sing this loud, mic-free
would you believe i could make music for money?
I have smelt georgia like this before
it's the home-coming spray of old knowing
something, darling, too slow to walk away
too dense to question where it's going.
if I said i'd really rather always flick my passionate spit
then dance lamely crowned some television diva
if my music don't come with contract where tacked on is a clause that makes it a law i sell out to commercials for mascara,
if I'm not satisfied with the spiritual infiltration in the fashion world and express myself beyond my clothes skin blood and bone
if i craft to keep up with what's really going on and reach out sometimes by being alone
and work piously to maintain a simple heart
would you believe i could make a living off of this art...
and make music for money
pay me pay me pay me
i make music for money.
credits
from 13 songs,
released January 1, 2002
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
::leslie jill helpert º≠º New York, New York
<---a non-deductive anachronymph, meaning, mostly "of a chronologically inconsistent hemimetaboly". she makes candy out of earthsap, rudders and thunder ----->
discography
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Jul 2012 -
Jun 2019 -
Oct 2009 -
Mar 2008 -
Jan 2004 -
Feb 2008 -
Jan 2002 -
Dec 1999