texas

by the matthew show

/
1.
(written by the matthew show)
2.
(written by the matthew show) I will be there when all your gypsy days are done I will be standing by the stage at night to help you sing your songs Sing out along Give me the will to carry on Give me the strength to sing my songs And I will never be alone And I will never be the one Who always finds you there alone and tired When all along you were the only one I admired Bring me safely down This flyover town is such a crappy place to be I need a rock and roll location for my rock and roll dream What does it mean This path that leads us to our beds Our greatness waiting till we're dead And I will never be alone Bring up that melody so strong That I can scarcely hear the words or music The voice it lent itself you long ago, now use it Bring me safely down You're smoking up your mind You've abandoned common sense And you're afraid to let it out All that natural-born pretense And you do wear those clothes so well That tell the whole world what you think Yeah, you're cranking up that velvet While you're smashing all the pink Into a memory A precious memory Are you the blade that will cleave our common foe Do you feel man enough to try what I feel man enough to know It's painted gold, but it won't roll your 20 when Your sagging eyes are growing dim And I don't want to be alone Or see you dragged down by the stone Into a middle age that you see coming It doesn't give a damn for you So keep on running Bring me safely down
3.
06:25
(written by the matthew show and Jeff Simms) When you were young, you mapped the sun And all its features swirled about And now you stand, Ph.D. in hand With no one to acknowledge it But I for one, I see that sun And I will help you follow it 'Cause you're not done yet And you're not having fun yet And you are much too young Old enough to grieve about your life A father and his son, playing in the sandbox Potential lying everywhere But away melt the grains, to sweep away the pain Of all the things that might have been And I for one, I am that son And I ask for it back again 'Cause I'm not done yet And I'm not having fun yet And I am much too young Old enough to grieve about my life There's still a chance to come around
4.
(written by the matthew show) I'm fighting elevator shock coming upstairs My bathroom's got a spot in the tile floor Wonder what the mailer daemon threw away An order for the Pokemon Yellow, fucking yay The stapler is an inch from where it used to be Bastard's gonna lose a hand if he crosses me Priority message from my boss's tweaks Change everything you've done for the past twelve weeks The window is open not five feet away That moth's flown in and out nearly three times today The breeze blows freely through my hair, but The stapler's not moving, bastard better be prepared The doors stay open but the seats stay filled The monkey bars are lonely and the people stay pilled The site is taking shape for the prison yet to build, and The doors are wide open but the church stays filled I remember once upon a time as a boy, I God dammit, what the hell is that making that noise If the kid wants a refund, who am I to tell her no And get her mother on the email and her father on the phone Someone jacked the printer paper, where'd you put it now If you leave it where I put it, who's the fucking bastard now No coffee in the break room, where'd my network login go If you touch my fucking Dilbert doll, I'll break your fucking nose The doors stay open but the seats stay filled The lid is childproof, but the people stay pilled The price has gone up for the prison yet to build, and The doors are wide open but the church stays filled The wristband is tight where the velcro meets Yeah, carpal tunnel sucks, but I'm never on my feet If the meeting could last just five minutes more My brain would atrophy and I would melt into the floor Those hackey-sacking tech fucks made me spill my drink Garlic bagels in the hallway, now my office stinks Don't know if I can make it the seven hours more They can't make it to my desk before I make it to the door The doors stay open but the seats stay filled The lid is childproof, but the people stay pilled The price has gone up for the prison yet to build, and The doors are wide open but the church stays filled
5.
(written by the matthew show) Remember me We shared the same hotel On the field trip down to...never mind It seems it's just as well But you said you'd never fall away But your symbiotic angel held the day Follow me Though you've never seen my face Through the blood and sweat and steam of battle That time cannot erase You are not the architect of pain And my symbiotic angel wins again Soldiers' Creek Down by that shady path And a man and woman compromise With each suspended breath He says he'll never go away And his symbiotic angel says, "okay" Dreamers dream Console the remaining mass Find the words to make the most out of The completely meaningless But what can I do to fall away From my symbiotic angel far away 'Cause I never said I'd feel this way For my symbiotic angel far away
6.
(written by Phil Collins)
7.
(written by the matthew show) For a copy of the lyrics to this song, please send a picture of a motherless goat to matthew@thematthewshow.com
8.
(written by the matthew show) You like talking, but you won't quit You like Bob Dylan, I don't give a shit You're like a camel who's waiting for a bigger needle And try as you might, you won't be the fifth Beatle But oh, you're not important here And oh, yes, oh, yes, you'll go downtown They know your name, they know when to throw you out They know you'll never change When change means you are (why's it gotta be your way) Broken by the chains of the rock and roll shades Of the need to be the party favor boy toy renegade Can't say no to the ladies when they're gonna pay Your way, your way Look at you, you'll be the loneliest boy in Toyland Why do you do what you do to be the loneliest boy in Toyland So you've found the floor of the well It tastes like failure and stinks like hell It's got nicotine walls and linoleum floors And "Judas Priest Rules" on the back of the doors But oh, you've got your premise made Never enough to pull at your centigrade Get on down to the flesh fair body trade We know you'll never change 'Cause change means you are Broken by the chains of the rock and roll shades Of the need to be the party favor boy toy renegade Can't say no to the ladies when they're gonna pay Your way, your way Why do you do what you do to be the loneliest boy in Toyland 'Cause pretty soon you'll be the onliest boy in Toyland And I know you don't want the government stealing all your melodies Grimlock's Dinobots stomping on the Kennedys Tin foil hat doesn't cover your extremities Anyway And your fingers go when your mind says stay
9.
(written by the matthew show) So it seems I've made the scene I'm underneath the bone machine The dreaded rasta, he lets me in Armies thwarted again But I still see the sign of my mountaintop 4th of July It's very important how this works You don't give your kind bud to the jerks Slowly let the smoke rise from your lips The ash it glows upon the crimson tip But I still see the sign of my mountaintop 4th of July I knew everything would be all right And I'll sleep warmly tonight I'm gonna mystify the ancients And keep Phil Collins in my sack Or do I underestimate the dangers Of giving gatekeepers the facts No, I still see the sign of my mountaintop 4th of July I knew everything would be all right I'll sleep warmly tonight Yes, everything will be just fine Won't you give me a sign Your anime, your Betty Page Your Bob Dobbs, your skater rage Will not prevent your mind from closing in And your Coltrane/Davis feeding trough Will not prevent your writer's block There's oh, so many ways to be brought in Well, I've made it out alive Through the doormen and the wives My hand is stamped, you know where I've been Off to seek glory again But I still see the sign of my mountaintop 4th of July And everything will be all right I'll sleep warmly tonight Yes, everything will be just fine Won't you give me a sign
10.
01:07
(written by the matthew show)
11.
(written by the matthew show) JFK died not a half mile from here You can still see the plaza when the weather is clear I can give you directions or take you right there On the bus down to Union Station It's an old town, it's a young town, though it's long left the stork And it hopes and it prays it'll become New York O say, can you see the East 35 fork On the bus down to Union Station Union Station, the keys to the kingdom The jewel in the crown, we're open all season All the black ones and the brown ones and the ugly white women Take the bus down to Union Station On the bus down to Union Station

about

One day in late 1999, I sat in a Dallas deli booth with my friend & hero Little Jack Melody, talking about our respective bands. I was throwing him some cockamamie fit of theory having to do with what I thought my band’s target demographic was, how hard it was to pick the Radio Song, and who knows what else. I don’t even remember. What I do remember was Little Jack dithering over his Reuben & chips and rather absently saying, "I don’t know, all I ever wanted to do was make an album I liked."

Strange as it may seem, this completely blew my mind. I had spent a little shy of a decade working so hard on the upward climb, so hard on winning over sports bar crowds, so hard on the rock-n-roll dream, that I had forgotten what it was that had made me want to write songs in the first place. I really wasn’t interested in rocking the house. I wanted to make an album I liked.

So as they say on the television, I busted up the band, cobbled together a studio, and proceeded to make... what? Well, it’s an album. It has fast songs, slow songs, songs with drums, and songs without them. There are guitars, household objects, sounds from the backyard, whatever I like. And lots & lots of melodies.

Interestingly, what came out of this project is a document of sorts. A document of my life to date. Dayjobs, gigs, self-important doormen, fear of hipness, whatever.

But truly, honestly, what you see before you is an album I like. And since everyone believes in their own good taste, I happen to think you’ll like it as well.

credits

released September 15, 2003

matthew - vocals, guitar, bass, percussion, saxophone
Jeff Simms - drums, backing vocals
Paul Shapera - keyboards, drum programming
Reggie Rueffer - violin
Brad Williams - organ
Little Jack Melody - fretless bass
Nancy Giammarco - backing vocals
Dean Hall - backing vocals
Michael Montgomery, Jeff Simms, Margaret Henley & matthew - drunken game of Quarters

license

Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

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about

the matthew show Fort Worth, Texas

the matthew show's songs are acclaimed widely, as is his podcast series The Band That Never Was, a merging of story and song. He has been featured on NPR & PBS. He served as reader and composer for the Bonneville Stories audiobook by Mark Doyon, and co-produced Beth Brown's debut album I'm Not Matthew. He is also half of Ah Pook the Destroyer. ... more

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