Name: Amoeba by Phideaux
Duration: 3 min 5 s
Description: Here's a song from a "concept album" I wrote when I was 13 about a schizophrenic person who apparently imagines they are an amoeba in this song which takes them back to primordial times - or something like that...

I remember this song!! Brings me back to hanging out in that bedroom of yours with the psychedelic paisley wallpaper...

It's hard to believe such a grand song like "Thank You for the Evil" has roots from something you wrote at 13; I definitely couldn't have done this at that age

Snowtorch Part One.mp3

Shrinking the violet bleeds hot lemonade
And gaze blackly out on the lucky parade
Sun raining down god bless the shade
Where the dogs all gather for panting

Turning the burning orb screams with a wink
"Fire for all and nothing to drink"
And wrestling with the nighttime he loses and sinks
Singing: "Darkness for all your crying!"

And my poor old Sunshine is dying

So sickness he reigns his jubilant feat
And rides the poor saddleboys Davy and Pete
A cold summer week on Malaria street
Where sleep is the only releasing

And my poor old Sunshine is still breathing

Poor Sunshine

Galatea

Inspired by the book "Galatea 2.2" by Richard Powers
Suggested by William Amato
Additional vocals by Rachel Salter, Gitane Demone and Savannah Pope

Galatea

I) U (An Overture of Sorts)

II) Forgive us What we Are, Love What we Wanted to be.

All these hard lines that make us feel safe
All these soft curves we want to set straight

As I was walking to St. Ives I met a man with seven wives
Brothers sisters have I none but that man's father's my father's son
How sure of ourselves we are how full
How certain we are the pinnacle
Of consciousness and precious worth
Inheritors by divine birth
Masters of Geometry Inventors of Philosophy 
And words...

All these hard lines that make us feel safe
All these soft curves we want to set straight

Nothing is the same as anything else
Your parallels underwhelm
Identity be but a fraud the charcoal wing of the black swan
Groping metaphors for god
To simplify is falsify, the blinking of the closing mind
Narratives like fairy tales swallowed whole like candy whales
Bedtime stories of a frightened child...

All these hard lines that make us feel safe
All these soft curves we want to set straight

Bones in Denial

All just to say that you're barely part way
Stumbling down your dark hallway
First in line in the monkey parade
But clear in the rear of the light brigade
Forgive us what we are
Love what we wanted to be
Who rise from flesh to spirit know the fall
The word outleaps the world and light is all

III) H

IV) Engineer

Oh Mother of Wisdom Oh Father of Light
Lord of the Elements Master of Time
Power and Vision and Fusion and Fission
Bending cruel Nature to abject submission
But deep underneath every rational beast
The wellspring of sorrow sings

The zealot the fascist the racist the freak
The breeder the beater the cheater the priest
The victim the rapist the sadist the greatest
The one that you wish you could borrow their faces
But deep underneath every frightened retreat 
The heart of loneliness beats

 
Irony satire and alienation
The protective mask of faux sophistication
The gambler the shopper the slave to desire
The junkie the puppet the man who starts fires
But deep underneath every soul in the street
The heart of a human still beats

V) Graceful Degradation

See everything for me

VI) Marcel

Another year has passed my love
My brain's all scrambled today
When they ask I say it's all fine
I never know what to say
I love you ultimate
Ultimate love that's how it's always been
A shadow girl following wispy invisible just knowing that you exist
Locked in your temple
Bring down the universe spread it out over the keys
Shuffle through paper Love a sweet panther with no one watching but me
Even if you didn't even know me, I'd love you with all my heart   
Even if you didn't even know me, I'd love you with all my heart

Galatea

Standing outside of the takeout waiting for his chili fries 
The dolt examines wonders of a life 
"How did I make it this far 
Without getting hit by a car 
And why is most of my alone time spent in groups of five? 
Yes, and why is all I do each day to die?" 
And he'll never know why 

Making out some weekends, smoking just because he can 
His company's in fairly high demand 
"How will I keep all my friends 
In the inevitable world's end? 
What if my toe cheese taints the heaven sand 
In Jesusland?" 

He'll never be as clever as he thinks 
And he'll gain less with each Miller Lite he drinks 
And he will try to make sense of the rain 
Folks who give their kids alliterative names 
But there is nothing to know, no, the rhetoric flails 'til it sinks 
His parents will pay for his drinks

The Dolt Examines Wonders of A Life

Here's a song from a "concept album" I wrote when I was 13 about a schizophrenic person who apparently imagines they are an amoeba in this song which takes them back to primordial times - or something like that...

Amoeba

Christopher Behind the 8-Ball 

When past Panic's stormy capes I sailed into the nether shoals
Lo! Beneath the scrutiny of the sailors long gone down before
"Abandon ship! Abandon ship!" they cried to me "All hope is lost!" 

On, sail on, have faith the world is round
And no one here will be there to care if it should prove that I am wrong

The Tropic of Delirium seagulls sing and mermaids strum
A symphony of seashell strings, crystal gin and pirate rum
I almost wound up on the rocks but spied in time the drunken sun

The sea becalmed like a looking glass; playing craps we sat still fast
And mumbly-peg with the Captain's leg. Man he looks like a fillet!
I think we might be sorry yet boys, everyone place your last bets...

Christopher Behind The 8 - Ball

Amnesty
It serves a lot of people well to lock a lot of other people up in jails.
But just remember that we planned when we came to the new land
To leave behind the medieval past.
For thousands of years we climbed up out of hunt or be hunted
Kill or be killed, run and hide or die but maybe we've changed. 
Maybe we're something that we've never been before.
And we can be free to walk under the sun and decide what we need
And be kind.
Maybe we don't need rulers anymore 
And we don't want to be told what to buy 
And we don't have to kill to survive
And maybe there's hope and maybe dreams are still alive somewhere
And when we lock someone in a prison yard
A little part of us becomes a prison guard
And when we strap someone in an electric chair
A little part of us dies with him there.

Amoeba

Phideaux

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