Vin Scully

I.
Because you’re you.
Because love is how you live it.
Because you’re the deserving one.
Because class is never out of style.
Because you get down to business.
Because rhetoric is a language you can plan for now.
Because the kind of question you’re asking is on everybody’s lips.
Because cool memories are no investment.
Because form is always on the tip of your tongue.
Because the sorrow of the past is all done.
Because you’ve got a rocket arm.
Because an opening remark can be misplaced.
Because you’re open to suggestions.
II.
Because he loves to hear from you.
Because he didn’t catch on.
Because he’s sensitive to the touch.
Because he’s one in a million.
Because he’d sample you in a second.
Because he spoke your brand-name.
Because he’s got the cursed Vitruvian strain in him,
only its injected in the wrong way.
III.
Because that about sums it up.
Because the ball’s in your court.
Because there’s always a first time around.
© 1996 Saprophone Music, Amsterdam
All Lit Up (1994)
I forgot
I forgot I lived
I forgot I lived in luxury
Take a look
‘cross this desert town
never seen, never, never seen such a lit up night
I don’t know
if you can drive this strip
without feeling
all lit up
I been to Cairo with the late wife
you got to go through hell just to get something to eat
They got their markets, its like a train wreck
people yelling in your face and stepping on your feet
Drive up to an A&P and right into a parking lot
got those little arrows just to show you where to go
walk thru those sliding doors, you feel the A.C. on
shiny little vegetables all lined up in a row
I don’t know
if you can drive this strip
without feeling
all lit up
all lit up
I forgot
I forgot the girls
I forgot the girls that keep me sleepy
Venus de Medici
Cocoa Butter Tanya
I think they wanna get rid of me
and they keep this hot, they’re gonna
Flagging me down in the middle of the street
They say, “”Pull over, let’s have some fun.””
I’ll die before I’m ready
‘tween the double yellow lines on Route 91
All Lit Up
I forgot
I forgot I lived
I forgot I lived in luxury
I got a picture of Venus right here in this folder
look at the curves on that Roman shoulder
Tanya lays it down at the edge of the Strip
with a tone that’s not homegrown but definitely flown in
Venus is a rock from the stock of Michealangelo
shipped in the night outta Sarzana Cove
Tanya’s legs are like two limos but her arms are Grecian
my mind’s filling in the blanks, no thanks to the deletion
Venus is noble but she’s mobile; she likes the desert air
She’s showing in the glowing of the neon glare
Tanya was designed to be kind at sixty miles an hour
Venus needs two thousand years, uh, just to take a shower
I don’t know
if you can drive this strip
without feeling
all lit up
© 1994 voLsap Music, Amsterdam
Silver Slipper Waltz (1994)
Land your chopper on the roof
we meet for drinks at five
Venus lining up Black Johnnies, Monkey Spanners
with the soda on the side
We go tour roto-blade photocade
We’ll be shooting Strip all day
I can see the future and it won’t get in our way
out among the cacti
we got a plugged-in rococo
let me guide you through a quick review
of who’s really in the know
at the corner pocket table
there’s Julius II
he’s selling back catalog to the TV crew
T. got a UV A/B-filtered body
sweat resistant thighs
she’s been hanging outside city limits
trying to catch a ride
blinded by the sun all day
some kinda pre-Rayban unease
with those double-beam headlights
couldn’t catch her Z’s
one too many Ungated Julios
she was losing her glow in the undertow
’til Howard handed her the keys
V. got Pythant hropometricalbody
Gudean double cubit eyes
she ran a numbers racket
on the back of a papernapkin in a Riviera dive
she was sliding in to metastasis
some kinda modular deep-freeze
she was sinkin’ like granite
’til Howard handed her the keys
she drink sun-aged brandylike its candy
she turns water into wine
she�s our fountain of youth when its handy
but she’s likely to decline
I want a house with running water
I want a chain-link door
I want a walk-in garden with a neon floor
the future turned on a dime and gave us back change
the city lit up like a pyre; all samples out of range
I can see the future but it isn’t here to stay
I can see the future but it won’t get in our way
we thought it all up here at the Slipper
free parking after five
Venus lining up BlackJohnnies, MonkeySpanners
with the soda on the side
© 1994 voLsap Music, Amsterdam
Beauty Escapes (1995)
beauty escapes in the pursuit of safety
grab your jacket, let’s take a drive
love’s a mighty thing but what’s it done for me lately?
let’s head into the valley, up ninety-five
282 ft. below sea level
how low can you go before you disappear?
the nights are bitter cold, the days will blister the devil
how deep the sun burns you when no water is near
no water is near
no water is near
we’ll live forever
every neon sign is young at heart, young at heart
every traffic light controls our gaze
every roadway sign shakes us from our horizo 4ntal daze
beauty escapes in the pursuit of kindness
while I’m sick over nothing, while I’m stalling for time
I wanna drive into the desert ’til noone can find us
’til the radio turns to static,’til the road runs out of lines
two hundred and eighty-some feet below sea level
the mountains grow jagged and the nights are clear
your heart is bitter cold but its been worth all the trouble
how deep the sun burns you when no water is near
no water is near
no water is near
we’ll live forever
no water is near
no water is near
no water is near
we’ll lie together
© 1995 voLsap Music, Amsterdam
I Hate My Dog (1994)
I hate my dog
he walks around in a fog
he’s messing up my place
I can’t stand his face

Bark, bark, woof, woof

I hate him all of the time
I hate him when I rhyme
I’m hating him right now
every “”bow wow wow””

Bark, bark, woof, woof
I wanna throw him off the roof
had to buy him a collar
cost me a dollar
had to buy him some food
it didn’t change my mood
hot breath in my face
hot breath on my mouth
smells like piss on my sheets
he’s chewing up my towels
he’s up in my bed
he’s into my clothes
he’s running around like a hound going
Bark, bark, woof, woof
I wanna throw him off the roof

(1988) © 1994 voLsap Music, Amsterdam