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Recorded Nov 20th, 2017 in Jeff Onore's closet Boston Mass
lyrics
VELCRO
I'm the right guy, the night guy, my charisma I might ply, if you're tight you could try to buy my hospitality. I'll pour white rye, martini dry, under the counter what a pill head buys, my congregation the bar flies, they heed as I philosophize.
So it's 3am I'm shutting down, guy stutters in from out of town, I tell him I'm closed it don't seem to matter, he takes a stool he starts with the chatter. Mumbling about his married life, years ago he had a wife, somebody was cheating escapes me who, but he had this daughter he never knew. She gets in touch, when she's 21, asking for help could he get a gun? He's caught off guard and most surprised, gets sentimental with the tears in his eyes. He's older now, in a better place, says they should meet face to face, then no sound the phone goes dead, trying to collect the thoughts in his head. Got her number on his phone, leaves a message at the tone, traces the call, later that day finds himself on a plane to L.A.
Well turns out she's missing asks around, strip clubs downtown, directed to a pimp that's no good, mean dashed dreams of Hollywood. Didn't know his daughter lying there, like her mama, bleached blond hair, od'ed, her face pale blue, nothing he could do, did not have a clue. Vengeance burned in his mind, no forgiveness was resigned. His worst nightmares had all come true, went after her pimp, nothing to lose. Needless to say I put down my mop, he had my attention, didn't want him to stop. Pour him a drink, myself a double, I'm Velcro it seems for tales of trouble.
Well the pimp was elusive surrounded by guards, to get a clean shot it was going to be hard. Kept them in sight, pimp had a carfull, but my customer in his trunk, he had an arsenal. They pulled up to a light, side by side, says roll down the window of your Escalade. The window goes down, no more glass, he lobs a grenade, steps on the gas. My man thought revenge is sweet, portions of pimp painted the street.
Well he's thinking about burial arrangements, his daughter's apartment was vacant, he lays on her bed, closes his eyes and under the pillow to his surprise a safety box tag attached to a key, he'll go in the morning check it and see. He cases the joint no one around, opens the box what he found, 200 thousand in unmarked bills, 10 kilos and a whole lot of pills. She'd ripped off that pimp, no surprise, but she got found out and met her demise. That's why he be sitting here, my bar's got a reputation, crystal clear. Stash in the trunk, wanted to know, could I use the pills and move the blow? We negotiate, come up with a price, 100 G's which I think is nice. I went to the safe to get the cash he went to his car to get the stash. Wasn't no trouble easy as that, I checked the goods in nothing flat. Everynight is potentially great I guess, I closed up and went home to rest. Assumed he'd retire, 300G's! He's guilty about his parenting and needed his peace. I wouldn't have predicted I'm just a lowly bar owner but I heard that a drug rehab was given 300 thousand by an anonymous donor.
(Recorded Nov 20th, 2017 in Jeff Onore's closet Boston Mass)
Specializing in bright, sunny "bedroom rock español," this Brooklyn singer-songwriter puts a unique spin on lo-fi music. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 18, 2024
During the seemingly endless waves of stupidity and corruption that marked the W years, I was angry and outraged most of the time. Now, the waves of stupidity and corruption are so relentless I've used up my anger and outrage. Sounds like Dawn and I are in similar places: worn out from outrage and now deeply disappointed and disgusted. And she articulates it far better than I Joe de Larios
