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Picture Palace

by David Burnett

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    Made with love in Barcelona & Madrid.

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1.
I can write my own ticket I’m sure of that And if I’m wrong well then Alice I’ll eat my hat I won’t always be working in a laundromat Eating beans from a can I’ve got a mail order course on the way I’m gonna learn how to fix up old radios Plan to put up a shop right on Main Street And be my own man Can I take you Alice To the picture palace? Can I hold your hand in the dark And sit by your side? Girl I’m destined for glory If that helps you make up your mind Well my father he’s taken his share of licks Spent his days digging ditches and laying bricks Every Saturday night goes and drinks himself sick Staggers home at daybreak But my mother she claims to have no regrets Long as she’s got a nice television set And a fresh pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes There’s no burden too great Can I take you Alice To the picture palace? Can I hold your hand in the dark And sit by your side? Girl I’m destined for glory And I’m leaving my old life behind. I’ll tell it straight — there’s no wind in our favor But that’s not to say we won’t turn it round If you won’t say a word cross your heart and swear Then I’ll tell you a secret I’ve never shared Truth be told Alice sometimes I’m awful scared For what the future may hold Can I take you Alice To the picture palace? Can I hold your hand in the dark And sit by your side? Girl I’m destined for glory But it won’t be the overnight kind.
2.
Well Jim’s been punching holes in the wall again With that rusty old hammer from the shed He swears he can hear all around the house The whispering voices of the dead Meanwhile Patty’s not entirely impervious But she knows better than to try and interfere So she goes back to reading her horoscope And finishing her fifth can of beer And I don’t know why I’m still hanging around This place is a dump, I hate the whole town If I come off as crass you’ll have to excuse me God as my witness it’s all gonna change I’ve thrown away years on last minute arrangements But I’m good as gone once the spirit moves me And Jim is busy wrestling with a garden hose A turning of the tap was all it took And though I know he’d love to have an audience The truth is I can’t bring myself to look Meanwhile Patty’s casting runes on the kitchen floor To find out if the moment’s opportune She’s been mumbling about Mercury in retrograde And the waxing and the waning of the moon And I don’t know why I’m still hanging around This place is a dump, I hate the whole town If I come off as crass you’ll have to excuse me God as my witness it’s all gonna change I’ve thrown away years on last minute arrangements But I’m good as gone once the spirit moves me And Jim is tracking airplanes through a telescope He blames them for this neverending drought But he wouldn’t take the time to trace his reasoning Saying “Sonny, do I have to spell it out?” Meanwhile Patty’s doing a raindance on the trampoline She learned it from a new age magazine She’s been going at it for a couple hours now Without a cloud on the horizon to be seen And I don’t know why I’m still hanging around This place is a dump, I hate the whole town If I come off as crass you’ll have to excuse me God as my witness it’s all gonna change I’ve thrown away years on last minute arrangements But I’m good as gone once the spirit moves me
3.
Might be some out there Can’t say who, can’t say where Uncovered Eden with a lifetime to spare Perfect hearts that never needed repair But there’s no bright blinking sign There’s no chart, there’s no guide There’s no corner where the clever can hide From this aching that we carry inside Of all the possibilities That could’ve been our lives Who would’ve guessed we’d live to see such curious times? And I never thought I would ever be Just another old friend calling to see how you’ve been Now we talk like we know A thing or two about atonement Not many ways this conversation can go When the words we need come painfully slow In our voices, a faint trace Of remorse for the waste Those glowing omens and the visions we chased Linger like a bitter aftertaste Of all the possibilities That could’ve been our lives Who would’ve guessed we’d live to see such curious times? And I never thought I would ever be Just another old friend calling to see how you’ve been It’s no good playing with illusions best kept on a tight leash It’s no good coveting conclusions that lie just beyond our reach And of all the fools under the sun to flaunt the rules there’s not a one Who ever found a way to make decayed love into what it once was Of all the possibilities That could’ve been our lives Who would’ve guessed we’d live to see such curious times? And I never thought I would ever be Just another old friend calling to see how you’ve been
4.
Something strange about this summer Been going about my business every day In a hazier state of mind than I would care to be Emily, I’ve got myself into quite a bind ‘Cause there’s a sound I keep hearing It’s nothing less than my life rushing by I won’t lie, it's kept me up at night more times than I can count No amount of wishful thinking ever drowns it out Let’s dig a hole to China Crack the dull night open wide Come out blinking at the golden sun hung on the other side Dig a hole to China While the gawkers gather round Make a list of every dream you got We’ll go and chase them down I hate my job, hate my apartment But most of all I hate the way I run Every Sunday to buy the Times and read of other lives No surprise they always seem much better than my own There’s got to be a bigger meaning Underneath the pavement and the tar In every particle floating on this dirty city air I can barely see the blueprint, but I know it’s there Let’s dig a hole to China Crack the dull night open wide Come out blinking at the golden sun hung on the other side Dig a hole to China While the gawkers gather round Make a list of every dream you got We’ll go and chase them down
5.
The Interim 03:06
The future’s in the anteroom She’s fond of playing hard to get If anybody knows her mind I haven’t come across them yet I’ve got lots of plans I’d like to put in motion presently Some are lying at my feet And some are looming over me I’m tangled in time Everything I’m hoping to find Lies on a road choked with weeds and undone deeds I’m not one to take up too much space I’m not cheering with the crowd or running in the race I’m not sticking out my neck or risking life and limb I’m waylaid in the interim Fate is like an inventory of Every turn we ever took Just think of all the angels busy Scribbling in ledger books I’ve been trying to clarify This matter for a while now Though it beggar your belief I’m working quick as time and tide allow I’m in one hell of a bind Everything I’m hoping to find Lies on a road lined with regrets and TV sets I’m not one to give in to despair I’m not cutting up my clothes or pulling out my hair But kicking all I can and trying my best to swim Feels like drowning in the interim
6.
I’m a bastard son of the South I lived there as a kid in Mississippi for a time Ran around all day with a bluetick hound Shooting BB guns at bottles and wandering aimless through the pines In another life I never left that little town Married a Baptist girl with freckles on her face Driving ‘cross the county line to buy my liquor Friday night There’s always room for doubt But that sounds about right I’m a Goldilocks hoping to find That perfect bed to sleep in but they all turn out the same Tried to leave my demons behind But they cut for sign and caught me no sooner than I came In another life I stuck around and faced them down Bought a bungalow and earned a PhD Writing some boring book about Lindbergh and his transatlantic flight There’s always room for doubt But that sounds about right I’m a mystic cursed with a cynic’s heart I pray like John Chrysostom but I curse like Charlie Sheen Living’s not a science, it’s an art With no umbrella in this shitstorm sure is hard to come out clean In another life I gave up this electric world To live alone and sleep inside a mountain cave Making soup from wild grass and sipping tea by candlelight There’s always room for doubt But that sounds about right
7.
Holed up while the summer held us hostage Whole days listening to Lester Young Hanging out in the dusty shadows Shaking our fists at the blazing sun Letting me spout off my crazy pipe dreams Well aware they never stood a chance Like when I told you we’d run off to Europe Make our living playing jazz in France Wondering where the action’s at, wandering like two mice in a maze Hopping over fences and stealing down the dark alleyways Thick as thieves Running round spending pocket change Trying to bide our time Holding out for a change of pace Full of plans and grand designs Heading west with the sunlight in our eyes Thick as thieves Running round spending pocket change Building fires in the fallow backyard Burning charcoal and cheap guitars Thumbing vinyl on the record store racks Wrecking wheelchairs and crashing cars Stranded in suburbia, strolling down the same avenue Standing on the curb we a couple kids with nothing to do Thick as thieves Running round spending pocket change Trying to bide our time Holding out for a change of pace Full of plans and grand designs Heading west with the sunlight in our eyes Thick as thieves Running round spending pocket change
8.
Come down Elijah to my living room Warm up your feet by the fire If you tire of the heavenly fold You know there’s a place for you here Doze in the shade of the juniper trees Wander the green fields of corn You were born to live in this land Where the dust devils dance on the plain Come down Elijah That mountain must get pretty cold Come down Elijah Let heaven look after their own Be still Elijah and know there’s no sense In pleading with God for a word Rest assured the answer you seek Is not where you think it lies hid Wrestle with angels but mind you don’t roll Right off the edge of a cliff What’s the difference between a brushfire And that burning bush that you tend? Come down Elijah That mountain must get pretty cold Come down Elijah Let heaven look after their own Come down Elijah to my living room Warm up your feet by the fire If you tire of the heavenly fold You know there’s a place for you here
9.
Dear Uri Gellar I hope this letter finds you well You don’t know me from Adam But I’ve got some things I’d like to tell you about myself I’m like a hologram A hollow version of the person they all think I am But if I could bend a spoon or two I’ll tell you just what I would do I’d go to the office And pick up my last paycheck Finally tell my boss to shove it After twenty long years at his beck and call Then I would pack my bags Drive straight to Vegas where I’d promptly trade these tattered rags For a bow tie and a velvet suit And English winklepicker boots But what can I tell you that you don’t already know? You made the world your EtchaSketch Throw me a bone, I’ll gladly fetch I’m always asking “what’s the point of life if not to live?” And Uri something’s got to give Yes Uri something’s got to give So would you consider Revealing it all to me? If I was your disciple I’d defend your methodology to the last I’d follow faithfully And don’t you worry Uri sir your secret’s safe with me Yours sincerely, Donnie Fry P.S. I await your reply
10.
The Doorman 02:57
I open the door for many a lady and gentleman Knowing full well they’ll never do the same for me The hours are long and most never give me a word of thanks But lucky for me I take to it naturally Some people wonder if I make a bit of difference Claiming that my work’s not all it’s cracked up to be but Don’t you know deep in your heart Do away with the doorman, it all falls apart I’m out of the sheets and onto the street at the crack of dawn Always the first to bid you good morning ma’am And I wouldn’t dare to bore you with talk of my aching feet Others may do but that’s not the man I am Some people wonder if I make a bit of difference Claiming that my work’s not all it’s cracked up to be but Don’t you know deep in your heart Do away with the doorman, it all falls apart Pardon me a moment while I flag a taxicab down Anything you need day or night you know where I can be found Here at my post I watch all the lovers parading by Most of them young with all of their life ahead Me, I live alone and when I get home all the lights are off No food in the fridge no kids and no wife in bed Sometimes I wonder if I make a bit of difference Hate to say my life’s not all it’s cracked up to be but Though it sure isn’t a lot Being the doorman is all that I got.
11.
Johnny Reed was a bully He rode around all day On a moped Looking tough and mean You could hear Johnny coming From a mile away And he always stank Of dirty gasoline Funny the things that suddenly cross your mind Johnny ran with the meth heads They would sit and talk Smoking cigarettes Behind the Circle K And he once beat the living shit Out of this big jock In the parking lot For calling him gay Funny the things that suddenly cross your mind Johnny Reed went and hung himself From a backyard tree In the ninth grade And we couldn’t believe We were young and oblivious And his memory Slipped away as quick As water through a sieve Funny the things that suddenly cross your mind

credits

released February 18, 2022

All songs written by David Burnett

David Burnett: Acoustic guitar, vocals, piano, and string arrangements
Gabriel Szternsztejn: Electric guitar & 2nd acoustic guitar on “The Spirit Moves Me”
Hector Oliveira: Upright and electric bass
José San Martín: Drums
Isabel Juárez: Viola
Irene Celestino: Cello
Mery Steel: Background vocals on “The Spirit Moves Me”

Produced by Gabriel Szternsztejn
Recorded by Oscar Herrador at Stateroom Studios, Madrid, Spain, Autumn 2020

THANK YOU:
Tony Policci, Bonnee & Peter Lieuwen, Dennis Valk, María Cuesta, Ben Watson, Matty Tyack, Cristina Villamia, Tom Jackson, Kyle Burnett, Cristina Poveda

For more songs & stories, visit www.soncanciones.com

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Son Canciones Barcelona, Spain

Quiet songs for restless souls since 2014.

Son Canciones is an independent record label from Barcelona.

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