A Million Rabbits Looking For Their Feet

Give a Damn

Hate You

There is a light inside of me I can't distill to Oh's and Whoa's

No End

A song I started writing in my car, driving away from Children's Hospital where my wife and I had just been informed that our newborn daughter needed surgery on her spinal cord, though the song has nothing to do with that.

The Fairmont Creamery

Noticed there were more on stage than in the crowd

May Not (Want Me)

Reached A Point

Death of a Platypus

Please shoot me up with enough morphine to kill me

Promises

The Kids on Ellis

Sometimes people will prove themselves useless
They will either make time or excuses

Way Back When

There's a million rabbits looking for their feet

Cazenovia

Uploaded this last year, but realized I had gotten the dates of the 12 nights wrong (I had said 12/14-25, when it's actually 12/25-1/5) and my impression of my wife kept saying DAYS of Christmas, when it obviously should've been nights. So I removed it. My original track had me saying "2020 has been a hard year". As luck would have it 2021 has also been very hard so I felt justified in a re-upload. Background music taken from YouTube and used without permission.

12 Nights of Christmas

A Man And His Truck

Out like a lion
Stalking through tall grass
Got one foot on the brake and one foot on the gas
I’m chasing down a high that isn’t gonna last
Stavin’ off the future looking towards the past

Out like a lion
And I’m in like Flint
Standin on the corner wonderin where you’ve been
When I get all stuffed up take my medicine
I live beyond my means that’s why I’m always skint

And you’re not gonna see me until I pounce
I only wanted a gram but they gave me an ounce
And if the place ain’t bumpin’ I’m gonna bounce

Out like a lion
What the hell’s that mean
It must’ve come to someone in a fever dream
And now my heart is racing like a jumpin’ bean
Laden with the memories of HEAVY CREAM

Out like a lion
OLAL
I’m out like a lion
OLAL
I’m out like a lion
OLAL
I’m
Olal
Olal
Olal
Olal

Out Like A Lion

Gone are the days of kickin' ass
Just a fact that you’re forty and fat
And dwelling on your squandered past
Truth time: You never kicked much ass
Mostly played it straight and stayed on the path

Now you’re done with dreams and wishes
And all your energy is drained by laundry and dishes 
At least you’ve got your health for now

Gone are the days of moving fast
You mostly stay in place while the world moves past
Full disclosure: You never moved that fast
Shuffled your feet as the good times slipped through your grasp

And now you drown in dirty dishes
Feels like a miracle to clean the kitchen 
It’s the extent of your ambition

As the laundry's creeping up behind you
Debt collectors are on their way to find you 
And isn’t it garbage night?
Don’t forget about garbage night
Before you say goodnight
Lock the doors and turn out the lights

In the quiet hours on your back
Count your heartbeat and attempt to relax
New day brings another chance 
Try to play it straight and stay on the path

Kickin' ASS!

Hawaiian pizza is my favorite kind of pizza
Hawaiian pizza is my favorite kind of pizza
If you don’t like pineapple then don’t put it on yours
Try not to let tropical fruit get up in your shorts

I don’t care what you eat
Stop trying to lay your guilt trip on me
Eating what you want is the American dream

Hawaiian pizza is objectively better pizza
Hawaiian pizza is objectively better pizza
If you don’t like pineapple then don’t put it on yours
Try not to let tropical fruit get up in your shorts

I don’t criticize the toppings you like to use
It’s no business of mine which culinary path you choose
So leave me to mine

Hawaiian pizza is the very best kind of pizza
Hawaiian pizza is the very best kind of pizza
If you don’t like pineapple then don’t put it on yours
Try not to let tropical fruit get up in your shorts

I promise not to order it for you
I’m a devotee but I don’t care to convert you
Show me on the doll where the pineapple hurt you 

Hawaiian pizza
 Hawaiian pizza
Hawaiian pizza
Hawaiian pizza is great

Hawaiian Pizza

Dramatic re-upload of this track. The two lead vocal lines were clashing horribly, so I reduced it to one with a different setting. Attempted to add a snare drum run throughout, but that too was a dismal failure. In any case, I'm happy with how this version turned out. I started writing this song when I saw a guy ride his bike past me as I was walking down Hertel Ave in 2008. Finally got around to finishing it just now. 

Saw this guy go riding
Past me on his bike
He was going somewhere
That wanted him to dress nice
Wearing a buttoned down shirt
Black dress pants and shoes
I wonder if he’s living
The life that he would choose

But his hair reached down to the middle of his back
In a ponytail attempting to distract
From the coverage that his pate now sorely lacks
The glory days are gone and now it’s time to face the facts

And ooh
I think it’s time to cut your long hair, Mr. Bike Rider, and 
It might be time
Your hairline has receded past the middle of the top of your head
And I think  I think it might be time

I see this guy go walking 
Around here all the time
I saw him once at Denny’s
And it felt like a crime
He’s always wearing band shirts
From 1985
It must’ve been the last year 
He truly felt alive

But as far as hairbands go, that ship has sailed
And as a revolution heavy metal failed
More a walking mullet than a man
I’m sure the guys in Ratt are stoked that they still have a fan

And ooh
I think it’s time to cut your long hair, creepy band shirt guy, and
It might be time
And while you’re at it buy a car and shave your mustache too
And I think the world
Would open up for you

I swore to myself that I would shave my head
As soon as my hair starts to go
For many years I lived within that dread
Now I let my bald flag flow
 
And ooh
I think it’s time to cut your long hair, Mr. Bike Rider, and 
It might be time
Ride down to a barber or the salon of your choice
And gift your thinning hair to Locks of Love
And ooh

Mr. Bike Rider 2.0

The show is over
I'm loading all our things into the van
Another wasted weekend on my hands
It didn't go how I wanted 
But exactly how I planned
A hole in the crowd in the shape of a girl named Sam

I made a flyer for No Show Sam
Who apparently had much better plans
Than to take a ride to Broadway Joe's and see my band

The show is over
I've loaded all our things into the van
There's blood underneath the duct tape on my hands

Jonathan Marc Emerling

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