You or a Reasonable Facsimile: Difference between revisions
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
(text from htwiki, and an additional bit about the guitar) |
(converted to w3tpl) |
||
Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
<hide> | |||
<let save name=download-links>{{file.music.solo|ci-fax.mp3|MP3}}</let> | |||
[[category:lyrics]] | |||
[[category:songs]] | |||
[[category:recorded]] | |||
[[category:downloads]] | |||
</hide> | |||
==Indicia== | ==Indicia== | ||
{{sidebar|__TOC__}} | |||
* '''written''': late 1980s | * '''written''': late 1980s | ||
* '''recorded''': [[Carrington Ave.]], [[Providence]], 1988 or 1989 | * '''recorded''': [[Carrington Ave.]], [[Providence]], 1988 or 1989 | ||
* '''download''': < | * '''download''': <get name=download-links /> | ||
==Notes== | ==Notes== |
Revision as of 02:58, 29 October 2011
<hide> <let save name=download-links>MP3</let> </hide>
Indicia
- written: late 1980s
- recorded: Carrington Ave., Providence, 1988 or 1989
- download: <get name=download-links />
Notes
The words came first. The last bit (about the rodents) always makes me think about my friend Hilary, so I always say I wrote it about her before I met her. Dave Fawcett played the real drums (the crash cymbal comes through the most clearly); I played and sang (I use the terms lightly) everything else.
I need to post a picture of the guitar I played when recording this. It's an absolutely horrible-looking beast that's almost impossible to play, but something about the way it sounded -- kind of punchy and resonant -- made this song happen. I started playing chords on it, and then I realized that these words went with the rhythm, and suddenly there was a song.
Lyrics
intro
Em . D . Am . C D |
Em . D . Am . C D |
verse 1
Em . D . Am . C D | And so I filled my nose with toothpaste |
Em . D . A . . . | And I proceeded to partake |
Am . G . D . . . | Of your ridiculous iguana |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | For all the difference it would make |
verse 2
Em . D . Am . C D | You could not know about my toadstools |
Em . D . A . . . | And all the luxury therein |
Am . G . D . . . | I never made you pay attention |
Dm . C G Am . G . | And so you wandered out again |
interlude
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . B7 . |
verse 3
Em . D . Am . C D | You wasted all my extra placemats |
Em . D . A . . . | It did not mean a thing to me |
Am . G . D . . . | You did not notice after zero |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | Because of your philosophy |
verse 4
Em . D . Am . C D | There were no holes in my begonia |
Em . D . A . . . | We couldn't find a single one |
Am . G . D . . . | You took your bags into the jungle |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | And pretty soon it had begun |
verse 5
Em . D . Am . C D | I couldn't smell the way you pondered |
Em . D . A . . . | Upon your rusty mandolin |
Am . G . D . . . | You should have known it wasn't easy |
Dm . C G Am . G . | You're playing chess with Gunga Din |
solo
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . G . |
Dm . F G Am . B7 . |
verse 6
Em . D . Am . C D | I took my bat back to the garage |
Em . D . A . . . | Where it had been the night before |
Am . G . D . . . | And was it you who took my poncho |
Dm . C G Am . B7 . | And left it on the bedroom door |
verse 7
Em . D . Am . C D | So let me answer this distraction |
Em . D . A . . . | I cannot think what it could be |
Am . G . D . . . | I often think about your rodents |
Dm . C G Am | Would you have done the same for me |
outro
(hold Am for 8 beats)
Em . D . Am . C D |
Em . D . Am . C D |
Em |