Born In The Wrong Era (EP)

by Vincent Minor

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05:00
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released May 26, 2009

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Vincent Minor Los Angeles, California

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Track Name: Fanfare
Sit yourself down and watch the canvas wall
over harmony till the curtain call
As the lights go dim with anticipation
It’s about to begin

With the helicopter that rescued you
with its pra-pa-pa-peller over that terrace view
well they all knew you when your thought got loose
though it was hidden in an opera

Everything seems so real when you’re on the mezzanine
Squeeze mother’s hand, boys don’t scream
Staring at the stage watching the masked man kill the maid
and slink down deep in my seat

And so it goes…

The rhythm runs away with no rhyme in it
The story starts to unfold
And though the scenes are rather dark dense and different
The orchestra will grow

Can’t help it anymore
What have we done? They’re coming through the floor
Can’t hold them back
When social belles make disguisable boys

He tips his hat to the quizzical crowd
Watch the magic come out of a fat man’s mouth
His pitter-patter on the legs of laughter
Keeps on kicking you

Anything that enters must make an exit
Nothing ever stays in its place
And as the room changes
As a conductor turns his pages
And the sets reverse around

Below…

The cardboard ocean that’s hung by strings
And the sequined mermaids
Are manned by heads dizzy by the kerosene
That’s burning down the play

Pinch me from this dream
A recurring nightmare
Bookmarking my sleep
Never-ending fanfare
There’s got to be some cause for this insanity
Track Name: Late Night Show
I sow and I reap
I’m my worst enemy
I’m losing memory
All I need is a little hit of E.C.T.

I knock myself out
I always do that
My luck is never learned
And it pulls the wisdom out of my teeth

He’s indoctrinated with a pregnant point of view
He’s constipated on a treadmill
On the late night, late night show
On the late night, late night show

I’ll use my camera
So I can’t distort
or warp what’s really there
‘cause I’ll see witches in cupboards
catching killers

I’ll drink some Chianti
And read some Freudy
Double-dutch with Morrissey
And tap a secret in morse code...

…To Brian in the desert who’s doing L.S.D.
Sugar glider on your shoulder drew maps on me
On my body body, on my body body

Marching bands dance migraine heads to sleep
And a gentle touch of a masculine man
R.I.P. R.I.P. R.I.P. Rest In Peace

So get your masts out
Sail to the jungle of your 9 to 5
I got 5 to 9 stuck on the 405

His thoughts run in circles on conveyer belts
He’s balanced on a thin string when he sees a mouse
When my mouth opens…comes out
On the late night, late night show…
Track Name: A Plane Grave
Planes go down over a safari sunset
The market crashes and the businessmen cry
While sitting on a chair I put my bubble gum under the table
The waitress looks at me like I had just committed murder
And every time I forget then I remember
Something’s are better on the 25th of December

I wish that I followed you down
I wish that I followed you as the engine hit the ground
I wish that I followed you down down down
I wish that I followed you through that cloud

Now a plane crashes over a mirage in the desert
Another man eats an ice cream as the washer and dryer tumbles
I can’t stop laughing while watching Tom and Jerry on the TV
There’s something really sad when I look into that black and white memory
What happens now when you break the composure?
You smoke another cigarette and then you drink like a soldier

I wish that I followed you down
I wish that I followed you through the deafening sound
I wish that I followed you down down down
I wish that I’d followed you through that cloud
I wish that I followed you down
I wish that I followed you as the nose took a bow
I wish that I followed you down down down
I wish that I’d followed you through that cloud
Track Name: Friday The Thirteenth
Saline is dropping like acid rain
My battery’s dying on Saturday
Meter maid tickets make angry faces
It’s a paper prison in a pickpocket parade

Jump to my bed towards a marshmallow cloud
But land on the floor with a nail through my mouth
Bright lights and white coats and hospital sutures
No health insurance, should have killed me then and there

Superstitions with no reprieve
Shouldn’t have left home on Friday the Thirteenth

Oh my god could it get much worst
Tomorrow came with a much bigger curse
The sky is falling it’s a sure death wish
Woke up to a colorblind morning, think I’m going deaf

In this life where there’s no guarantees
Shouldn’t have set foot on Friday the Thirteenth

Thought I’d be smart and prevent a disaster
Take to the stairs and avoid elevators
But what do I know: god put workers to work
Who were painting the floor
slipped down 2 flights and that was it

Life on my left, Death on my right and I’m in between
So I’ll pass it on to the next klutz on Friday the Thirteenth

Friday the Thirteenth
Friday the Thirteenth...
Track Name: Born In The Wrong Era
Sat around watching reality warp
like a static antenna untuned
Making fists then kicking the shit and then this
In an isolated room

What you never understood was the chains you could never remove
You were never too close that’s for sure

All that’s left is the stillness and the scent
of an unmade slept in bed
And I’ve watched waited and then caused all the shock
When the body was pronounced dead

Send Danny this tear that I saved from my pocket that day
But don’t ever point yourself as the blame

It’s damn damn done
Little darling’s dead
You revel in mischief
And it’s out of your hands

What you never understood was the chains you could never remove
You were never too close that’s for sure

It’s damn damn done
Little darling’s dead...