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once again i'm asking how can i express
let alone posses in the midst of unrest and insanity
posing for the cameras candidly
all the time planning my tragic epilogue
critical review you can sing along to
the author of that tune walks among you without recognition
like a shadow of a shadow
hallow being
a madman sight-seeing for kicks
somewhere between a quick fix and an everlasting gaze
is where i spend my days
at times i amaze myself with my innocence
evidence of a sentiment that convinces me
living otherwise is covering my eyes for no reason i can see
other than self-demise
filing experiences where i see fit to
self-doubt is how they get you

taking glamour shots on top of paper moons
as i eclipse the son at the stroke of high noon

here's a paper thin apology for my actions
if they weren't see-through how can i see you in such light?
this barrier should be barely visible
and easily dismissible if need be
i need the feeling that somebody out there needs me
like i need a hole in the head
like i need my soul to be led by its proverbial hand
into the land of analyzed confusion
illusion of a chase
stuck in a self-imposed case of he's gotta have it
walking bad habit
anything my little heart desires
i fire off rapid
check that, i fire off vapidly
blank space
same face that i made on the day that i met you
that i let you invade me
persuade me against my will to get lost in the way that i feel

taking glamour shots on top of paper moons
as i eclipse the son at the stroke of high noon

one day soon
when all that is now
all that is gone
all that is come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but then the sun is eclipsed by the moon
those that are wise will not be surprised
they shall be aware and we will all stare as one
until the course of events has been run
and that light comes back to shine on everyone
hopefully i'm blinded so that i'm reminded
that looking for love makes it harder to find it
especially when it weighs on you so heavily
that you have to make adjustments to walk steadily
words readily prepared can't cut it
when your mind gets flooded with a simple and redundant thought
here in this particular spot
we can see what we've been doing with the time that we've got

taking glamour shots on top of paper moons
as i eclipse the son at the stroke of high noon


from The Weather Underground, released January 1, 2005
written/produced by Chief
cuts by Chief


all rights reserved



Chief and TheDoomsdayDevice Austin, Texas

Chief and TheDoomsdayDevice
:: mc : dj : producer : artist ::

A wordsmith with the heart of a poet and the head of a broadcast journalist. A DJ who is not afraid to venture outside of the norm. A producer with a different vocabulary of influences, and no fear whatsoever about embracing them. An artist searching for the link between the palette and the pixel. ... more

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