Striving For A New Tomorrow

by David P. Smith

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about

Absurd, hilarious, bombastic, bleak, wry and insightful, Striving for a New Tomorrow combines loads of off-the-floor energy with Tolan McNeil’s studio magic to create a jam-packed sonic smorgasborg.

credits

released April 1, 2006

Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Tolan McNeil at Lucky Mouse Studios
except "Teen-Age Drinking" Song and "Sunday" recorded and mixed by Scott Henderson at Sea of Shit Studios.
Crowd recordings by Scott Bennett.

All songs written by David P. Smith
Song arrangements by David P. Smith, Scott Henderson, Mike Irwin, Aaron Mogerman, Tolan McNeil, Alfons Fear, John Pollard, Clark Brendan, Hank Pine, Clay George, Lily Fawn, Ryan Beattie

Album artwork and layout by Betty-Ann Lampman

Thanks to Betty-Ann, Chloe, Dave Gowans, Richard Chapman, Northern Electric, Andrew, Amy, Red Cat Records, Sarah Rhude, Emily Rhone, Patrick Beattie, Ryan Beattie, The Buttless Chaps, David Chenery & The lonesome Valley Singers, Hank and Lily, J. McLaughlin, Ford Pier, Run Chico Run, Dwayne Strohm, Gord and Yvonne and the Fort Gang, Big Bubba Cook, Jesse Ladret and Brand X Media, Ida, and special extra cake with icing thanks to Tolan and Scott.

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David P. Smith Victoria, British Columbia

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Track Name: Jackhammer Man
The Devil should not scare you
Unless your heart's a rotten stump
This guy thinks he fell out of the sky
But really he's a chump

A vicious murder monkey
A fireball junkie
The king cowboy flunkie
Counting blood money
Under a burnt and branchless tree

At the tar truck factory picnic
A golden coin sun
shines benevolently upon
fat kids with big tits eatin barbecue ribs
And the freedom-lovin' folk are dancing in the smoke
of burning meat

And seven men blow blood through a black rubber hose
That's how their garden grows
In the upside down town upside down town
That's how their garden grows
And seven men blow blood through a black rubber hose
That's how their garden grows
In the upside down town upside down town
That's how their garden grows

And I'm a jackhammer man in a jackhammer town
And I'll hammer my hammer till the sun goes down
I'm a jackhammer man in a jackhammer town
And I'll hammer my hammer till the sun goes down
I'm a jack hammer man in a jack hammer town
and I'll hammer my hammer till the sun goes down
I'm a jackhammer man in a jackhammer town
and I'll hammer my hammer till the sun goes down
I'm a jackhammer man in a jackhammer town
And I'll hammer my hammer till the sun goes down

I'll hammer my hammer
Till the sun goes down
Track Name: Fourth of July
On the fourth of July we drove down to Montana
Drank a bottle of rye sittin at the border
Whiskey all night and Maalox in the morning
Watched crows eating breakfast on dead dogs in Browning

And if drinking don't kill me
Her memory will
Sung by George Jones
Twelve times in a row

On the fourth of July we drove down to Montana
In a field fulla fireworks a kid shot us with a Roman candle
Ducking and weaving for cover we ran
Feeling just like two soldiers in Vietnam
But I guess I don't really know
Cause I was too young to go
And anyway
I am a Canadian

On the fourth of July we drove down to Montana
Took more'n a day to get loaded on pissy American beer
Then I passed out on the roof of a metal shed
With fevered dreams burning in my head
And I dreamed the moon wept gasoline tears
And I dreamed Baghdad was on fire
While the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
sang like lusty Greek Gods

And children were devoured by packs of roaming dogs
And grotesque naked men with good old American know-how
Were sucking on the teat of a dying golden sow
Fourth of July and the sky is filled with fire
Illuminating a bloody coagulated quagmire
Fourth of July and I don't wanna die
When stars rain like rockets from the sky

I think I'll dig me a hole just about six feet deep
When the sky falls upon my chicken little fella's got a place to sleep
I think I'll dig me a hole just about six feet deep
When the sky falls upon my chicken little fella's got a place to sleep
Track Name: Sunday
A pale peach sun glows through a sullen drizzle
pecking on a broken bone two crows
shiny like an old black telephone
in the rain

A burly back suit boy comes with holographic Jesus card
bluster tongue blabbing his jaw is working hard
and his face is shining red
got a big bulging head

The drunken barfly's story uncoils like a twenty-one foot tapeworm
all covered with shit
while the naked servant gyrates whipped cream upon her dangling tits
the men are licking it
Track Name: The Clarity of Whiskey
The clarity of whiskey
is rarely sustainable
sitting like stones
at the breakfast table
pretty blue sky
smudged with smoke
we ate bacon and eggs
and nobody spoke

As the end drew near
to our farewell bender
and I balanced on my head
a vague agenda
to leave you
to leave you
Track Name: Holy Pies
The swarming star-striped sky
is the place where they bake the holy pies
and the holiest pies are baked in
the swarming star-striped sky
but if the holy pies start falling from the sky
if the holy pies start falling from the sky

Then the bunnies might choke on honey
and the birds will say "I refuse to fly"
The milky river will run red
and your spinning head
cracks open like an egg

I just found out that heaven's in the belly of the sun
and apparently it's really stinking hot and dark in the
heavenly belly of the sun
but if the holy pies start falling from the sky
the holy pies start falling from the sky

then you'll eat it
and you'll like it
you like it
or lump it
digest it and dump it
you'll eat it and you'll like it
you'll eat your holy pies
and you'll like it
Track Name: Obituary
I know the lady in the obituary
I know the lady in the obit
lookin kinda like a lizard a little like a hen
with a curled and receding lower lip

I know the lady who just died
kept a jar of home preserves
clenched between her thighs
smoked Cameo Menthol King Size
I painted the house
of the lady who just died

Her back porch curtain was blue plastic
cut into flapping strips
she had one lazy eye and wide load swinging hips
"You boys want a Coke?"
leaning from the window she would say
her husband died quite young
his name was Ray
Track Name: Teen-Age Drinking Song
Once I drank a mickey of Smirnoff in about seven minutes
crouching in the bushes of the hospital grounds
I chased it with a can of C Plus
Then I went to the high school dance
and when that liquor hit me
I professed my love to a certain girl
we'd been friends for a while but she wasn't inclined
towards a fuzzy-headed acne-bitten
liquor sodden fella

A lot of people at the dance were drunk
including this one major babe
she was sitting in the bleachers slumped
her head held between her hands
the fabric of her dress stretched between her knees
formed a small basin containing the contents of her stomach

Well I headed to the cafeteria
where I ate some donuts
later that night I puked in my sleep
my Dad woke me up there was vomit in the sheets
he said "Have you been drinking rye?"
and I said "No"
and he believed me not because he was dumb
but because he wanted to believe his son
Track Name: Monday
I think I'm gonna get rid of my heart and get myself a brain
it's a little more complicated it's a whole let less pain
think I'll cut my dick off
send it to the Pope of Rome
inside my empty pants I'll stuff a dried up turkey bone
gotta get up
go to work on Monday

Think I'm gonna get rid of my tongue get myself a gun
ain't so good for talking but it helps to get things done
think I'll light my head on fire
kill an important man
get up
go to work on Monday

I think I'm gonna get rid of my heart and get myself a brain
it's a little more complicated it's a whole let less pain
pretty girl's hate-filled eyes
burn holes in my body
my guts spill on the sidewalk
scatter like a basket of snakes
gotta get up
go to work on Monday

I like Chinese food but this stuff smells like an animal's bum
and the carpet rodent scurries in to gnaw upon the crumbs
Assistant Manager type
says I don't wanna gripe
but I gotta get up
go to work on Monday

I think I'm gonna peel off my skin sell it to a robot
I will be no one and the robot will be me
my naked soul will run away
unfettered and free
and the robot
will go to work on Monday

I think I'm gonna get
think I'm gonna get
think I'm gonna get
think I'm gonna get rid of my
think I'm gonna get rid of my heart get myself a brain
it's a little more complicated
it's a whole lot less pain
Track Name: New Possum Pie
Well I done spent my welfare on chicken strips and liquor
weepin' Jesus on the cross I ain't never felt no sicker
Honey garlic, BBQ
26 of Golden Wedding
I got a hangover like a wound
need a sack to put my head in

I got me an offshore credit card and a really slow care
spent eleven days on the road from Nanaimo to Moose Jaw
livin' on Jolt and Twinkies
learned Judo from a tape
There's a voice inside me saying
"boy, this ain't the great escape

CHORUS
I'm too smart to really care
I'm too dumb to die
pass me another slice of that possum pie
I'll change your diaper
if I don't have to wipe ya
give my liver a punch
big boys don't cry

Think I'll get me monkey suit so's I all look like a flunky
find me a brand new job become a paycheque junkie
amass a wide arry of objects
for my better home
singing knick knack paddy whack
give the dog a bone

CHORUS
Track Name: Calgary Acid Song
Once I dropped a couple of hits of blotter
and walked around Calgary all night
and the glowing purple cityscape
seemed like a bright icon for the future
Till the sun came blazing up
igniting fields of stinkweed
and I felt excruciatingly lonely and vulnerable
like an ant under a magnifying glass
with the rays of the sun burning out my brain
and I went and hid in the photo booth at the bus depot
Track Name: Worst Job
A drunken pornographic stallion
berserk in a china shop
while the fate of mankind is balanced on a beer can cumshot
If the moon had a swimming pool
she'd execute a swan dive
the sun would she a single tear
if he had a solitary eye

The worst job I ever had
was eating shit out of a bucket
the second worst job I ever had
I used my face as a shovel
No - wait a minute
come to think of it
the worst job I ever had
was dusting all the candy bars
in a convenience store

Striving for a new tomorrow
can wear a fella right out
when the trees are growing backwards
down into the ground

There's a lot of bad men in the bad old world
digging deep and dangerous holes
driving cars built of flesh down crooked roads
don't you go down that crooked road
Track Name: Days of the Week
Booze party Saturday
slack-jawed Sunday
Monday Monday
regularly a travesty
two-fisted booze day
Tuesday
Wednesday the sun is a poached egg
wobbling
up in watery sky
Thursday everyone is impressed by
the authenticity of the twinkle in my eye
Friday the sun is a bruise
aubergine
the sky is a one-eyed sailor
when words fail you
don't bother to speak
these are the days of the week
these are the days of the week
these are the days that I'm weak

The lord high king of jack-asses
skull filled with poisonous gases
pandering to his ashtray heart
meanders to the handy liquor mart
there are few things in the universe stupider
than a man with a head as big as Jupiter
daylight unflinching reveals
what darkness kindly conceals
dawn arrives inexplicably bleak
these are the days of the week
these are the days of the week
these are the days of the week
these are the days that I'm weak
and I'm in a daze this week
Track Name: December Rain
CHORUS
December rain came
for seventeen days it rained
rain pounding to the ground
December rain came
down
down
down
down

Come and drink some whiskey with me
in my watery tomb
here's my infected heart
smelling like an old war wound
you can meet the ghosts who dance upon my head
I'd never sleep a wink
if I weren't drunk when I went to bed

CHORUS

Ho Ho Ho I say
on an ill-tempered December day
the lightless sky unfurled
upon a monochrome world
where numerous shades of grey
conspired to make the day
as cheerless as the funeral
of a stolen life
as cheerless as the funeral
of a stolen life

CHORUS

Osmosis
hypnosis
December psychosis
let this rain be my excuse
for these deep deep blues
and when life-size robot Santa sings
I feel the need to buy some things
and if the Canadian Tire girl
happens to go berserk
where can you point the finger of blame

CHORUS