Of an Igloo Getting Warmer

Little Snowball in the corner
of an igloo getting warmer
do you dare to tempt your fate
roll along fore it's too late

For naught or thirty-two is the score
if much higher you're no more
but without heat life's a bore
roll along fore it is too late

See my lady she my honey
she gets it right on the money
so it goes with snowy bunnies
and I appreciate

See she and me in the igloo is fine
but your stay has outplayed it's time
cuz when the bump turns into grind
I capitulate

Soon inside this snowy sauna
acting natural like the fauna
warm walls melt to warmer water
in the mix that nixes hate

little snowball in the corner
of an igloo getting warmer
do you dare to tempt your fate
roll along roll along roll along

Music and Lyrics copyright 2010 Mark Allen Johnson

Ball in Shell

I have had a day felt like it was a week
came out near the top but without the strength to speak
I am sure you, too, know the sorta thing I am going through

Shoulder off the others, headstrong far and wide
gotta break out of this feeling I feel I'm inside
a cage around here with the altogether tethered awful near

But tonight, tonight
tonight tonight is for me

Stepping out in nothing fancy no image to maintain
just a key remains to me to break out of these chains
In a rocket's flare I am nowhere else except for outta here

No slowing my ascendance the miles they never end
the darkness I escape through the moon a lonely friend
after the starlight I might find you warming up a morning sky

But tonight, tonight
tonight tonight is for me

Once I establish lightspeed and the little turns to big
the fears and woes that I once towed? there never was thing
from the point of view that very soon I'll soon be seeing you

The distance is the fix, I fall away and all is well
helps to get a hint of how they hide the ball in shell
yeah the distance went is equal to how well my time is spent

oh tonight

Now that boundaries are breached I'm broken free into my own
I see I'm not complete until I turn again to home
where like day anew once again it'll be me and you

after tonight

Music and Lyrics copyright 2010 Mark Allen Johnson

Un-Et Ketchup

I have been thinking about Roger Miller muchly as of late, especially after the drive I took with my brothers and Aerin this past July to visit our Pop in Idaho. In addition to all of the other great music we introduced each other to, Rik had a sweet supply of Mr. Miller on his iPod, and we all became purer beings through the listening.

This recording is one-taker of a sink-written song. The endless supply of leftover ketchup in Aerin's lunchbox turns my grin around while kitchen cleaning, and with ol' Roger in me head often as of late, this song came through. Sounds more Miller-like when I play it faster, but I am more prone to mistakes at a hepped up speed, and was more interested in a smooth recording than a hot-cat, revved-up hooter.

Hooked up my microtrack through my AKG and recorded this outside in me backyard on the Saturday past, in the mid-AM. Maybe sometime soon I will insert some instrumentals in to it, maybe not, but it would sound good with some.

Enjoy!

- Mark Otis



Lyrics:

How do you re-bottle un-et ketchup
and get it to going back down the neck set straight up?
Un-et ketchup is a waste you see
don't finish your ketchup
catch heck from me

In your lunchbox , going to school
you got foods so fine, to find a full man drooling
but yer afternoon return when you check it
everything's et, cept but most of the ketchup

How do you re-bottle un-et ketchup
and get it to going back down the neck set straight up?
Un-et ketchup is a waste you see
don't finish your ketchup
catch heck from me

If I saved 50 cents throughout the moon of a month
Collecting un-et ketchup left back in your lunch
I'd collar half a dollar, that'd be me:
a 50 cent miser; nary wiser I'd be

How do you re-bottle ketchup, ketchup
scoop in another cup just to get et up
and on a future table setting you will find it
full up of ketchup containers of every kind

How do you re-bottle un-et ketchup
and get it to going back down the neck set straight up?
Un-et ketchup is a waste you see
don't finish your ketchup
catch heck from me

ketchup's a fruit sauce taking it down to the truth
president decree telling us all “forsooth,
a tomato or tomata is a fruit to pick”
you can squeeze it and serve it on what you wanna serve it with

How do you re-bottle un-et ketchup
and get it to going back down the neck set straight up?
un-et ketchup is a waste you see
don't finish your ketchup
catch heck from me

The joy for some, and the secret in serving
is dedication divine to the clock hand's twirling
as the tongue, bell rung, starts to wet the teeth
but I anticipate the flow to be too slow for me

How do you re-bottle un-et ketchup
and get it to going back down the neck set straight up?
un-et ketchup is a waste you see
don't finish your ketchup
catch heck from me
finish your ketchup or you'll
catch heck from me

Music and Lyrics copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Sparky Superhero (classroom collaboration)

I have been teaching songwriting in my son's third grade class this year, and presented below is our first group assignment. Written in concert with 20 third graders, My son's third grade teacher Bonnie Raines, and myself, we all feel it is a fine debut effort.

After offering up my services to teach this twice a week in the class, I was initially concerned how to get 20 kids to write a song together. My fears were dismissed when Bonnie put into action her great corralling technique:

After we discussed the many reasons why people wrote songs, the kids were asked to come up with suggestions for subject matter and song type. They were allowed to vote on their favorite, and came up with the idea of a silly song about a superhero kittycat named "Sparky". Sparky now needed something to define him as a hero, and so the idea-taking and vote-casting process took over once again.

To start, I played a simple chord progression for the kids, suggested a melody line, and sang the chorus.

The first verse (the intro of the bad guy) was worked up during our initial session together. The second verse (which has Sparky resolving the conflict) was completed in the following class, and the last two verses were written during the third class. It seems that once you get the ball rolling with a room of vibrant, imaginative, 8 and 9 years old thinkers, it can be hard to settle them into making a concrete storyline out of what was decided upon by vote. They just want to keep coming up with more and more ideas, which is awesome, but makes it difficult to distill a cohesive song. Bonnie was trying to steer them into thinking about why a superhero cat would be called "Sparky" in the first place, and a couple of students thought of some laser-eye prospects for Sparky, but not enough votes were cast for this idea. For the final verse, Bonnie came up with the great "hairball" line, trying to get some part of the song to reference that Sparky is a cat, and the choking chupacabra lines filled out simply from there, completing the song.

An exercise in showing the kids how easy and fun writing a song can be, this first experiment came out very well. We will work on having the children create the actual lines (and rhyming scheme) for future songs, working in small groups and on individual songs throughout the year.

I plan on recording the kids singing this one on Tuesday, and will post that version on my blog when ready!

Enjoy

- Mark Otis



Lyrics:

There's a robot underneath the Empire State Building
He eats grownups, small children, and parking meters
This is so naughty and a serious problem
Someone has to stop it. Who can do it?

Sparky - Superhero
Meow meow - Superhero
Sparky Superhero
Meow Meow - Meow Meow Meow Meow
Meow Meow Meow Meow
Meow

Sparky has a decoy parking meter
he climbs inside and the robot eats him
Sparky takes control and then defeats him
he saves the day – Hooray!

Sparky - Superhero
Meow meow - Superhero
Sparky Superhero
Meow Meow - Meow Meow Meow Meow
Meow Meow Meow Meow
Meow

Chupacabra is trying to ensnare
the whole city in a wig of human hair
He's stealing it from everyone, everywhere
What shall we do? Tell me who can help us?

Sparky - Superhero
Meow meow - Superhero
Sparky Superhero
Meow Meow
Meow Meow - Meow Meow
Meow Meow Meow Meow
Meow

Being a cat, Sparky coughs up a hairball
Chupacabra can't pass up on that at all
Hairball is so big, the chupacabra chokes
and that's all folks – Goodbye chupacabra, and say hello:

Sparky - Superhero
Meow meow - Superhero
Sparky Superhero
Meow Meow- Meow Meow Meow Meow
Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow


copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Uke Musings Update!!

We have updates!! Crazy, crazy updates!!

More lyrics now on this site than have been seen ever before!!

Individual song links to your left!

Song lyrics and notes to your right!

More stuff, more stuff, more stuff!!


Check out this crazy list of sings that you can now sings along to:

AMBITION
BEAVER DAM
BIG BLUE RUBBER HANDS
CAUGHT IN THE SPOTLIGHT
EMPLOYEES AREA ONLY
GARAGE SALE
HABITAT
HEMINGWAY
MENUTIA MADNESS
PARKING LOT
RANTERTAINMENT RADIO
SOME GOT LUCK
SPLIT MY SKULL
TALKING 7 NIGHTS A WEEK TOILET TALK BLUES
THERE'S A MAN (ZOMBIE SONG)
UKE SONG (NOT A ZOMBIE SONG)

Much much more to follow soon!!

All of these songs are guaranteed to be listenable at low volumes, but are more accessible to larger audiences at higher volumes.

- Mark Otis

Beaver Dam

This is a tune with age-old roots, and requires a lot less backstory than I have written here. So: hang on, if you will.

Originally only consisting of what is now the chorus, "Beaver Dam" was a taunting song I wrote when, and for when, my two brother's (Rik and Eel) and myself would go camping/fishing with our Pop, which would always require leaving Anchorage (thankfully) and, therefore, a road trip. A road trip meant (among other things) a bevy of music to listen to, some of which I can still bear to listen to, and some of which I cannot: The pre-disco Bee Gees (Mom gets credit for our appreciation of the disco-era Bee Gees), Gordon Lightfoot ("Gord's Gold", both volumes), Arlo Guthrie ("An Evening with"), Dickie Lee ("9,999,999 Tears To Go"), Ray Stevens ("The Streak", etc.), and, most notably: Jim Croce. I loved listening to Croce, and I feel such a strong connection to my father through that music (though we never really talk about it). I still listen to Jim Croce occasionally, though more and more often it just makes me sad. Being more than happily married and in love (conveniently, to one single person - wait, shouldn't that be that "to one married person"? I better ask my lovely and happy wife), I do not connect with the world of sorrow and longing in many of Croce's songs, as lovely as they are, and therefore I categorize his music as "Dad Music", and more of an historical, umm... record, if you will.

Any-hoo: we listened to a lot of Croce. And around our Father we were not allowed to cuss at all. So I would like to now submit into evidence our singing of the words "..baddest man in the whole DARN town" along to JC's "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown", as it took it's frequent turn in the eight-track playlist. I did not so much care for having to hold my tongue, but did want Dad to see me as purer than I knew I was, and remember singing "DARN" loud enough so that he could hear me NOT swear on purpose.

You see:

Our Mother was the much more liberal parent back then, and the fact that our parentals were divorced meant we spent every-other-weekend with our Pop, pulled into a slightly jarring environment of not having as much freedom as we normally enjoyed; ever on our toes, monitoring our own behavior for some reference or off-color remark which would signal to Dad the hipper, cooler, looser attitudes which prevailed behind his bi-weekend-ly back. We did push the boundaries when actually with him, sometimes leading to trouble, sometimes not. But we knew Mom was having a hard time keeping us to herself as much as possible - with Dad looking to get custody - and I, for one, never questioning Mom's motives at the time, only appreciated her attitudes towards being, well... cooler. I wanted to be with Dad more than we were allowed to, but being a kid, I wanted to be cooler more than anything, and that was one reason I loved living with Mom. I did not wish for the boat to be toppled in favor of a stricter homelife, so I walked around Dad on tip-toes, desiring his admiration in seeing me as a purer person, who was not affected by the more liberal environment of Mom's house. Did I actually think that he would love me more if I was not a cusser or fighter, or of the understanding of things of which I should not be having an understanding???

Well, yeah. And I think us three sons still, to a minor amount, do. I continue to catch myself questioning my choice of some of the rougher words around him.

Speaking of understanding: please be of the mode in which you would have an understanding of this: I loved Dad very much back then, as I do know, and looked up to him with great admiration, desiring a vast amount more attention and time with him than I ever received. It was not until several years later, and goaded by my Mother's ill-will towards him, that I developed a "dis-taste" for my father, which I feel robbed me of several years of being around him as I casually kept my distance. As I grew a little older, however, and started learning some of the deeper truths about humans, I remembered that I loved my Father deeply, and started spending more time with him. I regret now not always basing my actions from within that love.

But enough about me - or, at least, that part of me.

I do not recall the exact section of highway upon which this song sprang from my lips, though I am damn sure it was "North of Anchorage". If you've been to Alaska, you know the location of which I speak. That area is always sunny or overcast, giving you all of the visual cues required to accurately paint, in your mind's eye, the backdrop to this musical creation. Oh yeah, there were a lot of trees and mountains (real mountains, not California mountains) and valleys and lakes and rivers and long stretches of the same thing, interrupted here and there by something else completely, but really only slightly, different. It kinda bored me in a kid-friendly way back then.

Let me show what I can picture, in the foreground:

As Jim Croce was in constant rotation, I can imagine us recently listening to "Leroy Brown". I can hear us not listening to any more music, and whatever conversation there was has been vacuumed up by this particular stretch of the road. I see myself on the lookout for animal life. I can hear myself ask: "when we will we get there", and waiting to go pee at the next stop. I can see...well, well... I can see a beaver dam ahead!

We would sing "beaver dam, beaver dam, beaver dam dam, beaver dam, beaver dam, crow's nest" over and over and over (alternating the "crow's nest" lyric with the names of other animal's abodes), as a not-so subtle way of getting our "damns" in. Finally, Dad (whether tired of hearing the word "dam/damn", or merely weary from hearing our kid-chorus trio sing-songing the same thing over and over and over and over, I don't know) says:

"Alright, boys, that's enough!/."

(Editors note: out father's statement does not actually require an exclamation point, but needs more than a period, hence the joining of the two using the forward slash. He was emphatic, but did not yell. We knew to stop. For a while at least.)

Many, many, many moons later I decided to update this song, this first song I remember writing by myself. The additional lyrics - the verses - were built up over the better part of a year. The hard part was how to fit the new verses around the old chorus-taunt. Eventually it all worked out pretty well, methinks.

This recording made within the last year consists of two layers of me on b-uke, lead and rhythm, and one vocal track. Some effects added aft'wards - (maybe that should be "on the poopside" instead)?

Enjoy. If it gets to be too much, you know the magic words:

"Alright, boys, that's enough!/."

And now for the lyrics!

Rippling River or Crickling Creek
A certain sort of scenario which you seek
Nearby trees and your perfect teeth
Crosscut chewing, tongue in cheek

Fell 'em well slow the water flow
Fill the spills so water nary goes
Down
But backs upstream
That is how it am
When you build your beaver dam

Beaver dam

You've made you mind, so take you time building that floor of mud up
Stopping holes with sticks and stones so they stay shut up
And what's more you got a store:
Roots and tubers - food galore
Upon which you and you family sups
In your...

Beaver dam

The dome upon your home is identifiable to some
As a mound of sticks so round sticking out like a healthy, happy, hippy thumb
Water all around surrounds the door your enter and exit from
Looks so fun floating free; wishing I had one

You sell it well, you know just what to show
Gives me thrills, this back to basic way to go
Now
The fact is, for me, well I know I can
And I am gonna build me a beaver dam






- Mark Otis

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Hemingway

Hemingway, Hemingway
prolly true I never read ya
instead of time to play
you were a do they said ta
doesn't matter any which way

life aint so simple
though the rhyme
that bind us all of all the time
mean more to me
than I can find
anyday
in Hemingway

mind aint so simple
so to be kind
behind us after all this time
a history
of major minds
having heyday
having heyday
hey Hemingway

that is all o a-o ok

Hemingway, Hemingway
prolly true I never read ya
instead of time to play
you were a do they said ta
doesn't matter any which way
today
to Hemingway







- Mark Otis

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Split My Skull

Fire eyed sun god shining through the shadows
crazy tongue speaking and drooling from his lava lips
Some blood brother secret centennial choice
to prove this dude happy say they gonna have to do me in

I got a chance now to save my folks
local yokel turns hero by giving up the ghost
Split my skull on the altar rock
and the sun god gonna let the clock groove on and on

I was a farm boy back then, now a present day, big city man
cause the high priest sent for me said I was meant to be key to the plan
but doubt my heart shouts out and I can picture the flames
and the knife-like sun god teeth and my feet start stepping away

I got a chance now the save my hide
local yokel turns yellow sacrifice denied
I yell don't ya crack my shell, don't ya spill my yolk
the church preaches hell just to control you folks

Half second huddle decision decided
priest thinks what he thunk but I override it
I'm running down the stairs at a high speed pace
looking at the frown on the high priest's face

Priest yells freeze I can't help but heed to his call
I fall knees to the ground get dragged to the altar
He's the one with the sun power you understand if yer
antennae were connected to the greater granduer
gonna split my skull on the alter rock
and the sun god gonna let the clock groove on and on

knees go wobbly neck goes slack
got me drinking a drug from a skin like sack
starburst alchemy and ancient rite
switches me around from night to light

Here come the sealer the big ole' kiss
I'm on the road encoded born to deal with this
My soul is yours fiddle as you will
you want another hundred years, take the kill

Crowd gets tense beyond my ken
taking me back to the beginning to begin again
Fire eyed sun god scraping through the shadows
crazy tongue speaking speaking drooling from his granite grin
they gonna split my skull on the altar rock
and the sun god gonna let the clock groove on and on

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Minutiae Madness

Something else new for tapping along to.

A one-taker on my microtrack recorder, with two more tracks mixed on aftwerds.

Every dot in it’s compartment
Every pebble in it’s place
Lots of pebbles fill up boxes
Wayward dots spill out in space

In our crush to mix it up
We miss a basic truth
you'll never fix it up
cuz you gonna hit the roof

Every jot in it’s compartment
Every pellet in it’s place
Lots of filling up of parcels
I’m wayward darling on the chase

Minutiae, Minutiae, Minutiae
Minutiae, Minutiae, Minutiae
Minutiae, Minutiae, Minutiae
Minutiae, Minutiae, Minutiae

Fill it up stack it up pack it in fill it up
Crush it down, nice and tight
Lock it in, pack it in, stuff it up tight enough
stow away, switch the light

Every dot in it’s compartment
Every pebble in it’s place
Lots of pebbles fill up boxes
Wayward dots spill out in space

In your quest to mix it up
you miss a basic fact
you never get to fix it up
that aint how you supposed to act

Every jot in it’s compartment
Every pellet in it’s place
Lots of filling up of parcels
I’m wayward darling on the chase

Fill it up stack it up pack it in fill it up
Crush it down, nice and tight
Lock it in, pack it in, stuff it up tight enough
stow away, switch the light



- Mark Otis

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Garage Sale

Was massively inspired two weekends ago, playing music with some good friends: Cary (guitar), Tony (stand up bass) and Noah (guitar and stand up bass). The following weekend had myself, Cary, and his wife Amy (on the fiddle) at our house, and it was another great musical time.

Had this song skipping back and forth inside for a little bit now, and - although I don't quite have this the way I want it - I wanted to post it and get some more songs up. Recorded through the computer the mostly vocals whilst strumming track, and simultaneously through my microtrack to pick up some heavier b-uke. Overlayed those two and solo b-uke lines added over those tracks afterward, with crackly sounding hand claps last.

Lyrics need some tweaking, but here is where they are at this moment:



Lyrics:

Tubs of rubbish up for sale
awkward knick-knacks by the pale
its a chime in time that without fail
beckons my smile to your garage sale

|A box of books to hook me in my curiosity gland
is sure to milk my ilk of every penny at hand
but a pile
an L.P. pile
vinyl available in any old style
is sure to leave me crying - o - for more

Erotic ashtrays by the score
what can hold your coals and more
it's no frills but still it's thrills galore
open sesame, garage door

A colored dot with a jot for the price you are asking
or perhaps penciled onto tape du masking
And the price
if not high
could not happen to a worthier guy
I love your converted driveway-store

A box of books to hook me in my curiosity gland
is sure to milk my ilk of every penny at hand
but a pile
an L.P. pile
vinyl available in every style
is sure to leave me crying - o - for more
Tubs of rubbish up for sale
awkward knick-knacks by the pale
its a chime in time that without fail
beckons my smile to your garage sale

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

OK, this was a long day...

...Aerin was awake for most of the night, with earache firmly gripping his head, and I stayed up with him as Marci had some meetings today which she could not miss - meanin': she got some sleep, and I watched Labrynth with The Lum. I actually tried/tried not to watch it, as I was drag-ass tired, and knew that I had a hectic day ahead, which it kinda was. After about 3 hours of sleep, waking at 7:30, I was able to bring some projects together with Aerin hanging around at the shop, until it was time to take him to the docs at 11am. Aerin made some comic strips about his dollies halloween costumes, and a comic about some drooling, burping and hicupping. good stuff.

Afterward: lunch, paycheck pickup, bank, and several craft store errands to make time for, in order that Aerin's Halloween sloth costume can come into being soon.

Home again, set up Rupe with a movie and snack while I set up to dye his hoodie and pant suit, prior to our painting on of the mossy hair. Found some neat dried spanish moss, colored a mossy color thankfully, that I may try to apply.

Marci was to leave work at 5:30, getting home via bike by around 6:15, however when that blessed, time-for-me-to-finally-crash event did not happen at 6:15, I knew she would be home soon, reminding Aerin that when mama got home it would bedtime.

When Marci did call at 6:45, she mentioned that she was at Phil and Emily's (P and E) house, some great friends that live in our hood, I knew that my rest time was soon at hand.

Then she asked me if I wanted bring Rupe over to P and E's neighbor's house, to look at kittens.

- sigh -

Here is our new one. 8 weeks old, female, toilet trained, needing her shots, etc. which will now be a fit-into-Saturday task. Marci later told me that as I was checking out the four kittens available (and this little girl was the last I met), my face lit up with true love when I saw her, and she immediately fell asleep in my arms. This little kit is now happily snuggled up with Aerin on his bed, and he is extremely happy young lad.

10 minutes after we brought this little darling into her new home, Stan calls, letting me know that he and Mom are going to be in town tomorrow for 4-5 days.

What a big day, but what a great ending to it!

UPDATES! UPDATES! READ ALL ABOUT 'EM!

Lyrics added!

That's is right. Now you, too, can understand what I am singing about, when I sing about things that I think I sing about. Even when I'm singing slow (like a sweet idiot), I cannot make heads or tails of what I am saying. So how can I expect you to, too?

Scroll downscreen, and even backwards for a few older entries, to see the lyrical updates to these songs:


Some Got Luck

Caught In The Spotlight

Ambition

Sweet Little Parking Lot

There's A Man

Monster On The Loose


So... scroll down and sing along!

Caught in the spolight UPDATE

Alright, somehow the original posting of this song from yesterday got corrupted, so that the song breaks upon listening to it. Believe me, I cannot make my voice or uke do that naturally, but it would be fun to try.

I have since updated the link, but this now seems messed up, yet in a different spot.

SO: if anyone can hear the song through without problems, please let me know. I will still try to fix it, just not tonight.

Bed time!

Some Got Luck

This'un came forth over this past summer, which (Marci and I are grateful to find) is now cooling into autumn. We love the great summers, hot and all, but it sure is nice to have to wear warmer clothes now and then.

At home with The Buke and myself (Me? Nope. I was not involved either).

I have added the lyrics as suggested by my vast and caring fan base.

- Mark Otis

LYRICS:

"Some got luck dumped on em like a dump truck
others got bothers they cannot drive away
what you going at, bitching bout the weight of it
you know that nothing ever lasts forever anyway

I could go on crying just trying to make the most of it
oh oooo
You say my vying puts you in mind of a pest relying
on getting an nibble out of you

Some heave ho way to go I never normally
rely much on the weather when I take it day to day
Rainfall is all I follow in the mi(d)st of it
If it is turning squall I'm turning anchors away

I could keep you right on line gathering testimony
What good would that do?
You are always straight talk tall, and no baloney
and I aint been further from the truth

Some got luck dumped on em like a dump truck
others got bothers they never drive away
what you going at, bitching bout the weight of it
you know that nothing ever lasts forever anyway"


Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Caught in the Spotlight

I believe I sang this one to Brother Rik a few years back, maybe when we visited AK about 5 years ago. This one's got me on the buke, recorded in me living room on my Microtrack recorder. Sometime in the last month or so.

LYRICS:

"Maybe I deserve it cause I am such a nice guy
but caught in the spotlight I tend to get shy

So keep those accolades and kudos flowing on
I take em all to heart cause that is where they all belong

Bring me gifts to fill my every delight
A simple way of saying thank you for doing all right

To shy to ask for what I truly deserve
you bring me words of praise and I hang onto every adverb"







- Mark Otis

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

Ambition

Written in 2006 (during one of the myriad months available then).

Recorded in Mexico, August 2008, using my M-Audio Microtrack 24/96 (with the built mics). In a rather cavernous room at Quinta Marcela, Marci's folk's country home outside of Sana Miguel de Allende. Nice built in reverb(reverbreverbreverb).

The scat may be a little too upbeat for a lack-of-ambition tune. But if you have no ambition, what are you going to do with your time but play around, huh?

Got the lyrics added below...

- Mark Otis

Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

LYRICS:
Ambition
I once was oh so pro-ambition
Ambition
I had a hot souped up transmission
Along the way I lost my nerve
Flying high is for the birds
much too high that learning curve
life's now much more easy

Ambition
Upon a time was my decision
Ambition
Never asked for no permission
I let my fears grow far too deep
for any goals I cared to keep
Now I hold as my belief:
life is much more easy without
Ambition

Where's that star I used to haunt?
Or those dreams I used to want?
Tucked away by a second thought
and blown away on a breeze"

copyright 2008 Mark Allen Johnson

Sweet Little Parking Lot...

First song written in Hawaii (April 2008) . Had the chorus waiting around for a while. The music and the rest of the lyrics came to light after spending 9 days in Waikiki in a near beachfront condo/hotel.

Lots of parking lots around there, human and otherwise.

- Mark Otis



LYRICS:

In your black top you look so fab
I see much more than a piece of slab
I am running hot, and all I got to say

Is my
Tires won’t mark, my oil won’t leak
My alarm won’t barely make no squeak
I just need a place to while an hour away

Sweet little parking lot
How many cars you got?
Is there space in your heart
Enough for me?

Tho I am no compact
I know you never judge my love
By the size of hatchback

You are gussied up so newly fangled
Stripes all delicately angled
Will my bumper get mangled if I try to stay?

I love your one way traffic flow
Or is it two ways that you go?
Will you give me the boot or tow my heart away?

Sweet little parking lot
How many cars you got?
Is there space in your heart
Enough for me?

I cannot brake the fact
that I am not above the tug
That is pulling me back

Right back to you

I see you by the supermarket
I’m all alone, please let me park it"


Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

There's a Man

The first recorded tune to be played on my new 6 string baritone ukulele, purchased in Hawaii, back in April of this year. Well, not the first recorded one, but the first to make it onto this forum. The lovely instrumental accompaniment is played upon my son's old ("you say vintage/I say old...") FP xylophone, banged away at with an eraser-less pencil end (If you don't know what "FP" means, lets just say it means "frickin' priceless". That's close 'nuff without needing to add any trademark symbols to the text).

Thought about adding some harmonies to this, but since I only have so many hours alone with myself in me head on a daily basis, I figured I could this time to try poke out some of the other songs I have written. Hopefully those will be up soon, too.

- Mark Otis

LYRICS:

There's a man
There's a man
There's a man with some dirt and he wears it on his shirt
There's a man

There's a man
dressed in tails
and the dirt on is shirt is the same beneath his
fingernails

I saw him scratch his way out of the
rain damp dirt near the crematory
I must say I am sorry if this story
gets real gory

There's a man
after me
I'll describe him to a "t"
Z-O-M-B-I-E

He has a friend
so many more
But once I've begun to run it's tough to
keep the score

I've got the first floor door secured and all the windows boarded
to ensure I'll endure
I've got to plan for the second story

(solo)

I've got the first floor door secured and all the windows boarded
It's worse than I first reported
change the channel switch the story

There's a man
and his friends
You must respect I accept the way this
story ends

There's a man
I could fight
Never quite sleep tight
whether win or lose the fight
to this man

My second floor sanctuary's been
compromised by the zombie herd
now the roof top climb
to the helipad
and the whirlybird

There's a man...
There's a man...
There's a man!
There's a man!"


Music and Lyrics Copyright 2009 Mark Allen Johnson

MONSTER ON THE LOOSE!!!

Promised Brother Rik I would get this one online before we left for Hawaii. Based upon the chorus, which also happens to be the title, of a song my brothers and I sang as kids. I came up with my own lyrics, not knowing that some had been saved by Rik, for posterity's sake. I still have not seen the words for his/our earlier version. Did we write that one all together?

Listen carefully for the fabulous scrapings of my musical saw.

Next up: "I'm an elf"!



LYRICS:

"Last night a crack in the sky
a meteor was thrown to the ground
opened wide, I wondered why, inside
there was nothing to be found

eleven foot tall and hairy
drags blood stained knuckles on the ground

There's a monster on the loose

Some say he looks like the science teacher
others say he's looking like the newest kid
I am saying he looks just like that
new guy downtown
you know the one with the sideways eye-way shift

Long fangs and low bangs
make his head look like a face of teeth

There's a monster on the loose

Got someone down by the record store
got someone down by the old millstream
got down and took out the whole damn mall
(Can you repeat that last act? A little bit of community service work can look mighty good on your record)

Styling in his patented plimsolls
howling his trademark howl

There's a monster on the loose"

copyright 2008 Mark Allen Johnson

playing wit' some video and camily famera

"Camily Famera", our new family camera, has been a fine addition to our household. We have documented Aerin's latest tooth loss, Johnding's happiness, and many silly faces, and are looking forward to the underwater photographic capabilities when in use during our upcoming Hawaii vacation. One work week away. What a wait.....

As I pert near constantly think about new music to present, and how to present it online, I played with shooting a video from multiple camera angles using a web cam ("web cam") and Camily Famera. I juxtaposed the two over each other to come up with this lil' thang, a Joe Jackson favorite of mine from a few years ago.

Enjoy!



(Notice the nifty product placement? Sponsorship has it's rewards...)
MOtis