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Magnetic Roots

by Professor Gall

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1.
NOLA 06:39
They have some of the oldest buildings but some of the newest gravestones what makes them rebuild? Every time the wind, the water, and the fire take they're toll? Evidently no desire is too costly to rebuild the spirit of this sacred place where every face is exempt from labels and the rant where the raves are put into a pole position and ageless grace is in full motion -and it's through this code of humanity that breaks the proverbial chain and the wind never blows strong enough to turn that freedom train The tragic history of French nobles slain on the steps of the cathedral every mistress in love left to freeze to death, on the steeple yet the winds of change bring birthrights and race to the table and the ringing of bells make the people resurrect a Good Friday Well, soon the potpouri would create new art forms, like, jazz and the blues the magic in the streets now blazing with the 'Krewe Du Vieux' -and it's through this code of humanity that breaks the proverbial chain and the fire never gets hot enough to torch that freedom train NOLA, o NOLA your beautiful gown flows with the rain NOLA , o NOLA you'll never sink that freedom train
2.
And when we get to the top of the hill I'll find myself and then lose myself and then find myself again 'cause there really is no end and no concrete beginnings and there is no missing link to rid ourselves of this misdirected God and there is no upright monkey, with a past address on Mars only the stars have infinite dirt only the stars have infinite dirt I'm a, a a fake and you're not a real and we're not a here we are I'm a, a a fake and you're not a REAL and we're not a here we are Somewhere Else so we should walk to the ends of this earth and peak at the place where we're supposedly birthed and ask ourselves that simple question where is our humble home Where is our Humble home? Cause I'm a, a a fake and you're not a real and were not a here we are I'm a, a a fake and you're not a REAL and we're not a here we are Somewhere Else
3.
The wind has an innocent conversation with the trees or maybe a dictation of velocities and screams, they scream at me but the semi trucks have they're say too and the motorcycles growl and fade into the night as the modern day enthusiast exudes with delight as we peer into the reflective pools we fall in love with ourselves well Freud was in love..........with his MAMA As the rumbling train has confused a small bear 'cause the scratching of metal has filled the air and the sound waves have tainted the success of her brood and the 'progress of man' that's in parentheses mind you has converted and perverted her heavenly bayou No time to look up at the night light sky it's times to disconnect and stare at those stars on TV one axle, two axles, three axles my friends I want to break down that highway to get my tax break again so what on earth makes us think we can be one with nature with whats left of our heavenly place in a forty foot recreational vehicle a comfy starless living room on wheels with a build in DVD and a remote and a useless shelf and basic Ode to self, HA! and the small bear will dream of being one with nature in a book upon that shelf
4.
5.
A Mirage 04:08
Is this a path that we're on? Or is it just a wash? Are we connected to the soil or each other or disconnected from the path passing on when the nurse log erodes away the roots have to support the trunk without clay living only for the moment in this modern day But no one wants to hear the truth anymore they walk with sugar coated sandals through they're heated garage Well, it's a Mirage (It's The Mirage) collecting materials blindly beyond all means success is always measured by the make of the jeans Now are you a part or apart of the upper class? or have latched yourself onto a lower cast? Well, the dowreys been hidden in a hollow mast And the unsacred cow will live a miserable life devoid of cud and covered in mud reaching with his head through that aluminum fence for hay so you we can supersize it everyday
6.
I'm a fake and you're not REAL and we're not here we are Somewhere Else And when we get to the top of the hill I'll find myself and then lose myself and then find myself again 'cause there really is no end and no concrete beginnings and there is no missing link to rid ourselves of this misdirected God and there is no upright monkey, with a past address on Mars only the stars have infinite dirt so we should walk to the ends of this earth and peak at the place where we're supposedly birthed and ask ourselves that simple question Where is our Humble home? Cause I'm a fake and you're not real and were not here we are Somewhere Else we are Somewhere Else
7.
Funky Water 03:55
Well my boots are strapped with leather but held together with shoe goo well if I had to skin a rat for dinner I'd surely make the ghosts of Lewis and Clark drool 'cause I got fifty cents in my pocket and my mutual saving is minus two Well, my bath water is yellow and dumpster diving for that sequin dress was mighty nice if I can keep my head above the water the night will drift away twice cause I've got nighttrain in my veins and my dress shirt is stained with whiskey and I'm hoping through that day and night you won't even miss me and as I walk across that train tressel I'll remember the taste of Vodka and Caviar and dream of the day I sat in my favorite movie theater pining over Avatar and when I'm walking through the park and the night fog in pleasantly creepy and I'll witness a dog fight that's only partially bloody and when the fightings over in my mind and in my soul I'll use my blowhole, to take a breath up through that funky water

about

The extreme connection and/or lack of connection between cities, nature and each other while under the push and pull of magnetic fields

credits

released April 20, 2013

MAGNETIC ROOTS
* Engineered & Mixed by Kristopher White, The Map Room
* Drew Norman – Vocals, guitar, Banjo, Stompbox, Lap Steel, Organ, Resonator Slide
* Scott Johnston – Saxophone
* Monte Skillings – Trombone
* Sean Hudson – Bass
* John Stewart – Drums
* Andrew Alikhanov – Clarinet
* Tricia Beck – Vocals
* George Turner – Cello
* Mark Chervin – Trumpet
* Don Henson – Percussion, Xylophone, Sonic Landscapes

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Professor Gall Portland, Oregon

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