Bryan Wade’s Music

Clinton Greene

The stately stoops the wrought iron gates, the tulip trees in bloom
The sun so cool on the walk to school, and the Macs in the coffee shop smile at the meter cop

The mansions tall the mansard roof Queen Anne our Facebook friend
The school a dream of a mommy team, and the dads on the Citi Bike ride for a cleaner life

The library is overfull the babies have the floor
Let’s sign the search more bike lanes in the church, volunteer at the local Y

The brown-skinned child with eyes of blue, two moms don’t need a dad
The well heels stroll with the rent control, All the kids playing in the grass
drink from the same glass

Silent films underneath the bridge, with soundtracks performed alive
The bearded chin says that art lives again, gone is the tragic flaw

Saint Matthew Mark has condo-ed up, rose window above the bed
We now entertain where they used to abstain
Seek our hearts on the yoga matt with a back perfectly flat

The train from work to after school is double overtime
The mother’s phone, little fingers roam as her second shift begins/

The moon is waning in the orange night, the stars cannot be seen
Little tears of rain on the walk from the train as the lights on the parlor floor wane

Voodoo Doll

Bathe my body In the coldest of ice
Coat my tongue with the Witch’s spice
Take me to the wiccan Take me down
I will pay my price

Draw out the fire, Lay your hands on me
Talk out the poison, Set my body free
This ancient arcana that you hold
Pour it down On the skin that you see

Push your needle into me, Deeper into my vein
Feel the potion burning into my soul
Come to me guru I am your voodoo doll

Help me I’m bleeding, Put a leech on my wound
Its burning it’s seething way down Into my womb
My case is an emergency Heal me now
Or I fear, My blood will bloom

Push your needle into me Deeper into my vein
Feel the potion burning into my soul
Come to me guru I am your voodoo doll

I’ve a gash in my … Twist the tourniquet tight
Will I recover, Am I blessing or blight
I fear I may be communicable Tie me down
I may rave into the night

Push your needle into me, Deeper into my vein
Let me hear you say the words as you fall
Come for me guru I am your voodoo doll

Mister Moon
Tell me Mister Moon, are you jealous of the stars
as they keep their place and know right where they are
Guiding travelers by mapping earth and sky
Do you wish, you could stop your wandering?

Tell me Mister Moon, are you jealous of the sea
With its endless waves and tireless energy
Tides no one can tame, never wax or wane
Do you wish you could be forever full?

Or is it better alone? To be free without a home
Can you see into my soul and feel the hole?

Tell me Mister Moon, are you jealous of the sky
Who makes room for all that may come passing by
Never grounds a gale, never halts the hail
Do you wish you could smile at everything?

Or is it better alone? To be free without a home
Can you see into my soul and feel the hole?
That can never be filled by what it bought or what is built
Do we share a joyful heart of sadness?

Tell me Mister Moon, are you jealous of the sun
Who unites us all and binds us into one
Begging her for light just to show your face at night
Does it burn that no one circles ‘round you?

Or is it better alone? To be free without a home
Can you see into my soul and feel the hole?
That can never be filled by what it bought or what is built
Do we share a joyful heart of sadness?
That can never be filled by what it bought or what is built
Do we share a joyful heart of sadness?

Unborn
Tide pull me down, Claim my heart for trying
Life will not leave me to drown, would rather leave me crying
My breath is yours, Pour into my chambers
And make me Unborn

Waves cast your spell, Wash away my memory
Too many tales could I tell but one will go with me
Moon tow the tide, Pull me down even deeper
And make me Unborn

I had to, had no choice, had to cut that line
How could I stop that heart of mine
No choice, I had to, how could I
Have cut that precious part of my
I had no choice I could not spare
I could not, would not, should not care

Sands hold me true, Color me in coral
Drink me down into the blue, drain away my moral
Claws clean my bones, And after salts have cured me
I’ll meet my Unborn

SCUD
(as originally written, which is different from the above recording)

Welcome to the beaches of Tel Aviv
where we wear our hair as we believe
and every half an hour those choppers chop, chop, chop by
Israel’s New York, Free labor sleeps on the roof and on the floor
Waiting to be shoveled off to a dead seashore

siren

Hottest thing I’ve ever seen, Barefoot girl in fatigues of green
‘Bout eighteen, swingin’ a M16 and eatin’ ice cream
Servin her three years like all the rest
her shirt open to the hollow of her breast
I wanted to grab her and say “I detest the things that you do, my dear”

siren

You, You, You get your hands off my gun!
You, You You get your hands off my gun!
IDF, IDF, IDF, IDF, You, You get your hands off my gun!
It only takes twenty short minutes
To send a bomb over your Mothers
To send a bomb over your Daughters and lay waste to your children