ThePhanastasio's Song Lyrics and Such.

ThePhanastasio · 05-26-2011, 12:27 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by VEGANGELICA

Phanastasio -

I *really* like this one. You tell an interesting (true-to-life?) story of jealousy mixed with deep admiration and empathy. I like the various emotions you describe having, with harsh criticalness being one of them, although that criticalness becomes some grudging approval as the song progresses to the end, where your allegiance becomes divided between yourself and your competition, for whom you also start to root.

I also like how strong your competition, an un-named, aging actress (?), seems to be since she is always reading the same part as you in auditions. You show her determination and persistence by having her reappear in the song three times, so that the structure of your song physically demonstrates her tenacity and almost annoying presence. Your lyrics manage to be humorous, heartfelt, and serious at the same time.

Very nice.

Thank you very much, and again, I really do apologize that I keep missing replies in this thread.

And yes - this was kind of autobiographical. Kind of therapeutic writing at that time.

ThePhanastasio · 05-26-2011, 12:39 AM

This is just something I was working on. I found a decent progression and melody, and these lyrics came out with so little effort that I was completely astounded. Apparently this tale of disillusionment and the release of fantasy was weighing heavily on my mind and screaming to come out.

Emerald City

If we'd never followed the yellow brick road,
We'd never have found this Emerald City
But when we found the road, it was overgrown
And most people turned around
Most said, "What a pity,"
Shook their heads and said, "What a pity."

We strayed from the path a time or two
And the turns we made were never easy to choose
Sometimes, that walk would turn to a crawl
And our feet blistered over
And we had holes in our shoes
And we bled through the holes in our shoes

We made our way to the Emerald City
Certain it would be a sight to behold
But the wizard's been dead for a long time now
And the horse of many colors
Is growing old
That horse is growing so old

The emeralds aren't here anymore;
Looters have taken the lot
And no one could find smiles for free anywhere
Cause everyone knows
They have to be bought
We all know smiles have to be bought

They say that the lion was beaten to death
And the scarecrow was killed in a fire
They caught the tinman fifteen years ago:
He was publicly executed
For being a liar
That tinman was always a liar

We became disillusioned with fairytales
When we got to the end of the yellow brick road
And found the castle crumbling
Such stories beg for happy endings
And I wish that one could be told
How I wish that one could be told.

ThePhanastasio · 06-02-2011, 01:18 AM

One last smoke, the tip lights up
We're going to be here for a while
I'm too much of a coward
To go up in a flame of glory
And cowards can't go out in style

If they ask
I was a hero
If they ask
I was a champ
Don't tell them
That I went out with a whimper

It's my last cigarette
I'd like to think
I went out with a blaze of glory
But I went out with my tail
Between my legs

If they ask
I was a hero
If they ask
I was a champ
Don't tell them
That I went out with a whimper

And if I cry
Don't let them know
Don't tell them
And if I piss myself
Please keep that mum

If they ask
I was a hero
If they ask
I was a champ
Don't tell them
That I went out with a whimper

I want to go out in a blaze of glory
I want to go out with rounds of applause
But something here
It just keeps me weeping
I'm something of a coward
Keep it quiet

If they ask
I was a hero
If they ask
I was a champ
Don't tell them
That I went out with a whimper

I went out with a bang remember
I went out with a bang please tell them this
I went out with a blaze of glory
I went out with the stoic's ling'ring kiss

If they ask
I was a hero
If they ask
I was a champ
Don't tell them
That I went out with a whimper

Please tell them that I went out in style
Please tell them that I'm not a coward now
Just tell them that my last words had meaning
Don't tell them that I wept
Like a girl

ThePhanastasio · 06-13-2011, 01:49 AM

Here's my drunkest cover ever.

ThePhanastasio · 07-15-2011, 09:59 PM

Just a little bit of what I'm writing on:

Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do
Jesus Christ, think I should tell what I need
Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do
Jesus Christ, I'm a puppet for their greed

We fall, en masse, the prospect is futile
And nobody comes out ahead
The King of Hearts silences us
Then he stabs himself in the head
Is it poker if the King is dead?

Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do
Jesus Christ, think I should tell what I need
Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do
Jesus Christ, I'm a puppet for their greed

...

Work in progress, guys. Work in progress.

VEGANGELICA · 07-16-2011, 11:39 AM

Hello Phanastasio,

The lyrics for your song that I am calling "One last smoke" were sad.

I liked them!

They offer a nice description of how a person can imagine others are thinking badly about her fragility. In reality she is probably the only one who really cares strongly about whether she lives up to her expectations for herself. Most people, I think, are too wrapped up in their own fears of failure and success to really care much about what happens to another.

I interpret the lyrics at the beginning as describing how smoking is a slow way to kill oneself rather than just lighting oneself on fire and going up in a blaze of glory.

My favorite line was about her pissing herself...the ultimate symbol of a terrified, timid human or dog:

Quote:

Originally Posted by ThePhanastasio

One last smoke, the tip lights up
We're going to be here for a while
I'm too much of a coward
To go up in a flame of glory
And cowards can't go out in style

...

And if I cry
Don't let them know
Don't tell them
And if I piss myself
Please keep that mum

...

Please tell them that I went out in style
Please tell them that I'm not a coward now
Just tell them that my last words had meaning
Don't tell them that I wept
Like a girl

Funny, how crying is considered a "girl" thing to do. That is such a crock. I am a proud releaser of tears.

I think the bravest people are the ones who can cry.

Quote:

Originally Posted by ThePhanastasio

Here's my drunkest cover ever.

I'd like to hear your sober version!

Quote:

Originally Posted by ThePhanastasio

Just a little bit of what I'm writing on:

Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do
Jesus Christ, think I should tell what I need
Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do
Jesus Christ, I'm a puppet for their greed

We fall, en masse, the prospect is futile
And nobody comes out ahead
The King of Hearts silences us
Then he stabs himself in the head
Is it poker if the King is dead?
...

Work in progress, guys. Work in progress.

My favorite line is in bold because in my opinion that is very good advice: telling people what you need is wise because if you never tell, you know you probably won't get what you need...but if you *tell* then there is a possibility that someone may listen and care enough to try to help you meet your needs. You never know in advance. The person might not care at all. If you tell what you need, then at least you've tried, and maybe that counts the most.

I feel the rest of the lyrics, beginning with the puppet line, are more melodramatic and theatrical than I'd prefer...esp. the part about the King of Hearts stabbing himself. I know you're in theater, so maybe this feels natural to you. To me it feels contrived.

ThePhanastasio · 03-25-2012, 09:28 PM

Working on this one. Will probably be tweaked a bit, but I'm digging the chord progression that brought the words and theme. Worked out better than I could have expected.

Fingerpainting

We paint pictures with our fingers
and hang them on the wall.
We used to get gold stars,
but now we just get hangovers:
A bad taste in our mouths
the morning after.
We used to paint stars,
giraffes, houses, and rainbows;
now we're painting self-portraits
in blood:
Mine's a ship inside a bottle,
people holding it up, laughing.
Yes, as always I'm all dressed up
and don't have a place to go.
Yours is a boot crushing a flower,
but no one at all is looking;
you always cry when you
paint that picture.
So we'll wake up in the morning
and we'll throw away these pictures.
With stale booze on our breath,
we'll drink our coffee.
We'll pretend that nothing happened,
and we'll pass our day in silence.
Then we'll open up the bottle,
and we'll paint again tonight.

~~someonecompletelyrandom~~ · 03-26-2012, 01:54 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by ThePhanastasio

Here's my drunkest cover ever.

Not bad. You should hear my stuff when I'm piss drunk, there's a lot of random moaning and yelling.

05-26-2011, 12:39 AM	#32 (permalink)
ThePhanastasio Killed Laura Palmer Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: Ashland, KY Posts: 1,679	This is just something I was working on. I found a decent progression and melody, and these lyrics came out with so little effort that I was completely astounded. Apparently this tale of disillusionment and the release of fantasy was weighing heavily on my mind and screaming to come out. Emerald City If we'd never followed the yellow brick road, We'd never have found this Emerald City But when we found the road, it was overgrown And most people turned around Most said, "What a pity," Shook their heads and said, "What a pity." We strayed from the path a time or two And the turns we made were never easy to choose Sometimes, that walk would turn to a crawl And our feet blistered over And we had holes in our shoes And we bled through the holes in our shoes We made our way to the Emerald City Certain it would be a sight to behold But the wizard's been dead for a long time now And the horse of many colors Is growing old That horse is growing so old The emeralds aren't here anymore; Looters have taken the lot And no one could find smiles for free anywhere Cause everyone knows They have to be bought We all know smiles have to be bought They say that the lion was beaten to death And the scarecrow was killed in a fire They caught the tinman fifteen years ago: He was publicly executed For being a liar That tinman was always a liar We became disillusioned with fairytales When we got to the end of the yellow brick road And found the castle crumbling Such stories beg for happy endings And I wish that one could be told How I wish that one could be told. __________________ Phish: Studio Discography Reviewed 100 Albums I Heartily Recommend My last.fm It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken Perhaps they're better left unsung

06-02-2011, 01:18 AM	#33 (permalink)
ThePhanastasio Killed Laura Palmer Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: Ashland, KY Posts: 1,679	One last smoke, the tip lights up We're going to be here for a while I'm too much of a coward To go up in a flame of glory And cowards can't go out in style If they ask I was a hero If they ask I was a champ Don't tell them That I went out with a whimper It's my last cigarette I'd like to think I went out with a blaze of glory But I went out with my tail Between my legs If they ask I was a hero If they ask I was a champ Don't tell them That I went out with a whimper And if I cry Don't let them know Don't tell them And if I piss myself Please keep that mum If they ask I was a hero If they ask I was a champ Don't tell them That I went out with a whimper I want to go out in a blaze of glory I want to go out with rounds of applause But something here It just keeps me weeping I'm something of a coward Keep it quiet If they ask I was a hero If they ask I was a champ Don't tell them That I went out with a whimper I went out with a bang remember I went out with a bang please tell them this I went out with a blaze of glory I went out with the stoic's ling'ring kiss If they ask I was a hero If they ask I was a champ Don't tell them That I went out with a whimper Please tell them that I went out in style Please tell them that I'm not a coward now Just tell them that my last words had meaning Don't tell them that I wept Like a girl __________________ Phish: Studio Discography Reviewed 100 Albums I Heartily Recommend My last.fm It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken Perhaps they're better left unsung

06-13-2011, 01:49 AM	#34 (permalink)
ThePhanastasio Killed Laura Palmer Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: Ashland, KY Posts: 1,679	Here's my drunkest cover ever. __________________ Phish: Studio Discography Reviewed 100 Albums I Heartily Recommend My last.fm It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken Perhaps they're better left unsung

07-15-2011, 09:59 PM	#35 (permalink)
ThePhanastasio Killed Laura Palmer Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: Ashland, KY Posts: 1,679	Just a little bit of what I'm writing on: Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do Jesus Christ, think I should tell what I need Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do Jesus Christ, I'm a puppet for their greed We fall, en masse, the prospect is futile And nobody comes out ahead The King of Hearts silences us Then he stabs himself in the head Is it poker if the King is dead? Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do Jesus Christ, think I should tell what I need Jesus Christ, I just don't know what to do Jesus Christ, I'm a puppet for their greed ... Work in progress, guys. Work in progress. __________________ Phish: Studio Discography Reviewed 100 Albums I Heartily Recommend My last.fm It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken Perhaps they're better left unsung

03-25-2012, 09:28 PM	#37 (permalink)
ThePhanastasio Killed Laura Palmer Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: Ashland, KY Posts: 1,679	Working on this one. Will probably be tweaked a bit, but I'm digging the chord progression that brought the words and theme. Worked out better than I could have expected. Fingerpainting We paint pictures with our fingers and hang them on the wall. We used to get gold stars, but now we just get hangovers: A bad taste in our mouths the morning after. We used to paint stars, giraffes, houses, and rainbows; now we're painting self-portraits in blood: Mine's a ship inside a bottle, people holding it up, laughing. Yes, as always I'm all dressed up and don't have a place to go. Yours is a boot crushing a flower, but no one at all is looking; you always cry when you paint that picture. So we'll wake up in the morning and we'll throw away these pictures. With stale booze on our breath, we'll drink our coffee. We'll pretend that nothing happened, and we'll pass our day in silence. Then we'll open up the bottle, and we'll paint again tonight. __________________ Phish: Studio Discography Reviewed 100 Albums I Heartily Recommend My last.fm It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken Perhaps they're better left unsung