Midi Skirt

Wedding March
Instrumental

The Emperor's New Song
written by Rusty Spell

It's all right to write the first thing that comes in your head, as long as it doesn't sound like the first thing in your head.

And it's all right that Lawrence's bird didn't rise out of the dust. And it's all right we didn't connect like Forster thought. And it's all right that Jesus Jones was totally wrong. 'Cause we're here right now. Yeah, we're here right now. Sure, we're here right now. We're really here right now.

And I love her... She's more beautifuller than grammar. She bought me a new hammer for Father's Day last year. And I love her... though her mother makes me angry and her father wants to hang me on the tree in his yard for Halloween. He'll say I'm decoration so they won't call the police. And I also love his niece. Her name's Anna Dell Louise. I'm not being very sweet, being in love with sets of girls.

Girls. Why songs about girls? About girls and their boys? Do we care about these boys? I guess I do, 'cause it's all that I write in the middle of the night. I think they rule: Too cool for school, where I look like a fool sitting on a stool wearing a dunce hat.

And I want to say the emperor isn't ready quite yet. He's made another bet with his counsellor that all the kingdom's people will get caught in his net and they won't regret that they're in there.

Shaka-Bra...

Dreams In a Jar
written by Debi Spell and Rusty Spell

We walk in the park, holding hands in the dark: I'm dreaming these things in the night. I'm whispering out loud, my heart in a shroud. I'm hoping that I'll get it right.

You haunt me. You taunt me with dreams of passion just out of my reach. You leave me. You tease me. When will I know what's inside? I wish I knew you.

You tremble and shake when I go away: I'm keeping these dreams in a jar. Are you a rock from a piece of my wall, or are you a cold, fallen star?

Michael's Theme
Instrumental

Cut It Out
written by Rusty Spell

I didn't know that I was sounding bitter in my songs, so I'll stop it with that tone and sing in a perfect drone of a happiness that's gone if it'll make you love me.

I didn't know that you would nail your thesis to the door, saying that my life's a bore, and that more of that's in store. You don't love me anymore, plus you hate me.

I will cut it out. I'll do whatever you want. Throw away the 7" collection that I keep inside my vault. I will cut it out. I'll do whatever it takes. Push as hard as you can on my morning wood until my johnson breaks.

Beautiful
written by Rusty Spell

I met a girl with a slit up her blue jeans. She said it was the new feminist mode of dress. She said, "We wear the pants; take it literal take it figurative, but we show the leg cause it's one of the things that we got."

I said, "That's not really fair to be beautiful and masculine. Men can't be both if we cross-dress we're just gay." She knocked me down with a hard punch in my stomach. As she walked away I smelled her perfume in the air.

Ain't it beautiful to be loveable, to be admired no matter what you do? Ain't it beautiful to be adorable, to be right up the alley of the world?

I met a guy who was cheating on his girlfriend. He kept her around when he needed a date for his job. He had a list of the women that he wanted. His girl found it once and then told me that she did.

I said "Well, that's that you can leave him. Glad you found that." She said, "No, I'll stick around. I can't help it that I love him so." I said, "Don't be a dork. He's a loser: you should leave him." She said, "You'd do the same if you found someone as wonderful as him."

Cacophony
written by Rusty Spell

Tra la la... Do do do... Yeah yeah yeah... This is very pleasing to me, but stand up and take your cacophony like a man. I know you can. You can...

Our Hurricane
written by Rusty Spell

Well, the beach it is lonely post-hurricane time. It's waiting for people in cars in a line on the highway, driving, waiting, wishing it wouldn't take so long.

And the houses are shambles, look well past their prime, though some are brand new and were left there just fine while the people are driving and hoping belongings inside aren't gone.

And we left the town with our lives intertwined with problems you had and pretended were mine while I did the same to you, insisting it was never me.

And the palm trees are swaying, the ones that are standing. And I'm simply obeying the morals my grandfather had. 'Cause I'd leave tomorrow if I had my own way. And I'd never come back here, and I'd never have to see you again.

Our toothbrushes are packed while our bathroom decays, and our room's been crashed in on the bed where we lay: A brilliant metaphor for you and me, baby.

And your guitar is broken, my Chia Pet shaved and I can't help but picture the large tidal wave that I'd have let wash me away if I would have stayed behind.

Christmas Afternoon
written by Rusty Spell

Time got lost in my mind, began to rewind to when calls were a dime. And you looked fine in the warm sunshine, lying on your spine, drinking lemon-lime. You would smile and reconcile the minor things which never piled, and all the while I'd never think that it is happening. And now the warmest memory has come and gone. Like Christmas afternoon: It takes too long and leaves too soon. The best time of my life has come and gone.

Why'd you make me cry when you would sigh and tell a lie, which made me die, float in the sky, up much too high for a living guy? I was tired 'cause all the happiness you brought left me inspired, but all the projects that we planned on never happened. And now the things we used to do have come and gone. Like Christmas afternoon: It takes too long and leaves too soon. The best time of my life has come and gone.

I hate this tree. The season doesn't last forever, betraying me. I'll leave the decorations to remind me of this day while all the other people go about their merry way, 'cause it has happened. The best time of my life has come and gone. Like Christmas afternoon: It takes too long and leaves too soon. The best time of my life has come and gone.

I've Got To Go
written by Rusty Spell

When the train blows a whistle, I'll remain as the whisper in your yard when you said you loved me, when I turned, and gave you a big hug and touched you on your pug nose, ignoring what you said.

I told you that I'd stay until I knew hat you'd be all right alone, and now I know that you won't, but I can't help that now. It's been too long. Somehow you'll make it on your own.

Cigarettes will lead me to my death. It's the only truth I know. The rest I'll search for. In a way, I really want to stay, but that way is very small. I've got to go.

In a year you'll think of me and fear you've lost your only love, and he was the worst man of all. How sad, how pathetic and how bad. It really sucks out loud. I've got to go.

Rock-a-Bye Moon
written by Rusty Spell

The earth is all alone and hanging by a chain, a pendant to be stolen, a locket filled with pain. We weigh so much down here, we'll never float away, the only one that's blue among the Milky Way.

But, oh, for me and you to leave here very soon. We'll fall asleep so quickly in the crescent of the rock-a-bye moon. We'll eat cheese every night while going through a phase. We'll see by the sunlight, but never see the days.

We are so close to love. We are so close to war. We're stuck right in the middle and don't know what they're for. We go around in circles. We do it every year. We think we're getting somewhere, but end up right back here.

But, oh, for me and you to leave here very soon. We'll fall asleep so quickly in the crescent of the rock-a-bye moon. We'll summon up Apollo, his oracle, and then we'll slowly count our numbers, we'll end at one from ten.

But, oh, for me and you to leave here very soon. We'll fall asleep so quickly in the crescent of the rock-a-bye moon. The sea there is so tranquil, the perfect place to hide. No one will see our footprints if we live on the dark side.