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Jimmy Buffett




Альбом Jimmy Buffett


Beach House On The Moon (18.05.1999)
18.05.1999
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. . .


by: Jimmy Buffett

Cameron's getting logical
a Vulcan in disguise
the mysteries of the night
are putting sparkles in his eyes
he's looking for sound reasoning
but the best that I can do
is this transcendental story
that I'll pass along to you

pass the falls they call Victoria
down the river named the Nile
drifts a tiny little handmade boat
it's shaped just like a smile
and steered by a magician
with the knowledge that he needs
to keep him on his destined course
pass the crocodiles and reeds

he's the admiral of the ocean
the lone eagle in the sky
he gave me my first sextant
and he taught me how to fly

it's been quite a lengthy passage
from the dawn of time til now
he has weathered the infernal storms
in his trusty petite dhow
he has soared above collassal waves,
sailed the endless sea
sometimes he resembles you
sometimes he looks like me

I saw him through my telescope
on a cloudless night in June
as he rested between voyages
at his beach house on the moon

there are windows to the galaxies
and hallways to the past
there are trapdoors to the future
and a splintered ancient mast
There are relics from Apollo trips
when the earth men came to play
and a hammock from a distant star
out in the Milky Way

he's the admiral of the ocean
the lone eagle in the sky
he gave me my first sextant
and he taught me how to fly
I saw him through my telescope
on a cloudless night in June
as he rested between voyages
at his beach house on the moon

a striped bass breaks the surface
as the sunset fades away
and our journey from the sea of storms
takes us home besides the bay
we go fishing in the ocean
we go travelling back in time
like the song says teach your children
to go fishing with their mind

Cameron's contemplating
I'm not sure just what he thinks
is my dad some kind of lunatic
with his stories and high hijinks
then he says when I get old and gray
and feel like I'm marooned
he will take me in his rocketship

. . .


by: Jimmy Buffett

she was no marine back from the Philippines
she was their pride and joy, their incarnation
her parents viewed the chief with shock and disbelief
looking for some other explanation

the indian on her back was poised for an attack
she said a tatoo is a badge of validation
but the truth of the matter is far more revealing
it's a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling

permanent reminder
of a temporary feeling
amnesiac episodes that never go away
it's no complex momemto it's not set of revealing
just a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling

Vegas in the rain
drunk on cheap champagne
he hears out of tune synthesized chapel bells painfully ringing
where's his limo ride
who's this foreign bride
is that really Elvis spinning around the ceiling

permanent reminder
of a temporary feeling
forgotten fabrications in the chapels of love
what's this ring on his finger
why is he kneeling
she's just a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling

Chromosomes and genes
spawn these fateful scenes
evolution can be mean
there's no dumbass vaccine
blame your DNA
you're a victim of your fate
it's human nature to miscalculate

to make up for the fight
they go out for the night
sex drugs and rock n roll seem like the easiest answer
but a short nine months later
there's no way of concealing
that permanent reminder of a temporary feeling

permanent reminder
of a temporary feeling
amnesiac episodes that never go away
complex momentos not subtle revealings
just a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
permanent reminder of a temporary feeling

. . .


by: Jimmy Buffett

Missing link crouched upon a promontory rock
Trying to figure out his biological clock
no one around to announce his arrival
so he's got to get to work on his sense of survival

oh, oh it's a dangerous world

Oh but in China they got smart real fast
that's where they invented the manmade blast
they lost a few fingers and some bamboo shacks
but they gave birth to a tribe of pyromaniancs

oh, oh it's a dangerous world (dangerous world dangerous world)
fire in the sky, lava in the ocean
sitting around waiting for the next explosion

back in the 50s they thought it made good sense
to teach all the school children 'bout civil defense
don't be scared (don't be scared)
do not cry (please don't cry)
just dive under your desk and kiss your ass goodbye

oh, oh such a dangerous world (dangerous world dangerous world)

it was a hell of a hustle
paranoia promotion
everybody duck and cover just waitin' for the next explosion

Where're you gonna be when it hits the fan
got a plan
whatcha gonna do if it lands on you
where's your point of view

down at the beach club there's a sales convention
night sky is the focus of that crowd's attention
It's no cosmic collision just a fireworks show
but they feel it in their hearts when those concussion bombs blow

oh, oh such a dangerous world (dangerous world dangerous world)

gunpowder's louder than Newton's law of motion
everybody's waiting for the next explosion

fire on the sky falling in the ocean
sitting around waiting for the next explosion

. . .


by: Bruce Cockburn

Sunset is an angel weeping
Holding out a bloody sword
No matter how I squint I cannot
Make out what it's pointing toward
Sometimes you feel like you've lived too long
Days drip slowly on the page
And You catch yourself
Pacing the cage

I've proven who I am so many times
The magnetic strip's worn thin
And each time I was someone else
And everyone was taken in
Powers chatter in high places
Stir up eddies in the dust of rage
Set me to pacing the cage

I never knew what you all wanted
So I gave you everything
All that I could pillage
All the spells that I could sing
It's as if the thing were written
In the constitution of the age
Sooner or later you'll wind up
Pacing the cage

Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can't see what's round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage
Pacing the cage


. . .


by: John Loudermilk

you call it jogging I call it running around
you say you're losing weight but you ain't lost a pound
while you're out jogging with your other friends
I'm home feeding the kids again
you call it joggin' I call it running around

You call it joggin' I call it running around
It's the best release you say you've ever found
Your friends all smile and agree yeah you were running around on me
You call it joggin' I call it running around

Somebody said they saw you down at the corner getting out of some stranger's car

You come home after running for hours ain't even breathing hard
hmmm
you call it joggin' I call it running around

The soles of your running shoes they ain't wearing down
While you're out running up and down the streets
I'm at home trying to get the kids to sleep
shhh
you call it joggin' I call it running around

(let's take a lap or two)

You been out since 5pm
it's now 30 minutes past 10
You blow in all out of breath
honey you been drinking gin again?
you call it joggin' I call it running around

Draggin that silly old towel all over town
You come home grinning with your hair all wet
smelling like shampoo instead of sweat
mmm mmm mmm
you call it joggin' I call it running around

oh yeah
you all it joggin' I call it running around

. . .


by: Jimmy Buffett

If men came from Venus
and women came from Mars
then I'd be lunching with my boyfriends
while you girls talked about cigars
but that's not how it happened
evolution took a different turn
we may be creatures with some unique features
but we've still got a lot to learn

We made it nearly 20 centuries
but your monkeys with Ph.D.s
spun a web of communications
but it's all still a tangle to me

I can't tell the spiders
from the dangling flies and moths
I feel like like some outsider
who seems to have his wires all crossed

I can't fax you my love
I can't email my heart
I can't see your face in cyberspace
I don't know where to start

I'm light years behind
from the age they call stone
I'm a carbon based caveman
honey just flesh and bone

I ain't no clone
I'm just flesh and bone
Trying to connect with you
I ain't no clone
I'm just flesh and bone
Trying to get my message through

Now we live in this age of computers
They run everything in the world
and I'm a little behind on this technical climb
and you are an internet girl

I've got words but no processor
I've got feelings but I don't know DOS
so I just have to go back to basics
to try to get my point across

Desperate for a glimpse of the future
We use crystals and cards and dice
and that Y2K is coming our way
they're talking about some worldly strife

It's time to think of simpler options
It's time to formulate a big plan B
so if your hard drive does crash
I've got some Kruggerands stashed
come on and sail away with me

I can't fax you my love
I can't email my heart
I can't see your face in cyberspace
I don't know where to start

I'm light years behind
from the age they call stone
I'm a carbon based caveman
honey just flesh and bone

I ain't no clone
I'm just flesh and bone
Trying to connect with you
I ain't no clone
I'm just flesh and bone
Let's run away to Timbuktu

(spoken) oh yeah baby come on run away
don't worry I don't byte
I might nip a little bit

. . .


by: Jimmy Buffett

I don't smoke I don't shoot smack
But I got a spicy monkey riding on my back
Don't eat beignets too much sugar and dough
But I will play for gumbo
Hey I will play for gumbo

It started in my grandma's in her kitchen by the sea
She warned me when where she told me "son the first one's free"
It hit me like a rock or some TaeKwonDo
Cause I will play for gumbo
Oh Yeah I will play for gumbo

A piece of french bread with which to wipe my bowl
Good for the body, good for the soul
It's a little like religion and a lot like sex
You should never know when you're gonna get it next

At midnight in the Quarter or noon in Thibodaux
I will play for gumbo
Yes, I will play for gumbo

I'm not talking quesadillas or a dozen Krispy Kremes
Or a pile of caviar that's a rich man's dream
No banana split or filet of pompano
No, I will play for gumbo
Yeah, I will play for gumbo

A piece of french bread with which to wipe my bowl
Good for the body, good for the soul
It's a little like religion and a lot like sex
You should never know when you're gonna get it next

It could be it's that sausage or those pretty pink shrimp
Or that popcorn rice that makes me blow up like a blimp
Maybe it's that voodoo from Marie Laveau
But I will play for gumbo
Hey I will play for gumbo

Now the Sauce Boss makes his cookin' on the stage
Singing and a-picking for his nightly wage
Sweating and a frettin' from his head to his toe
Playin' and swayin' with the gumbo
Prayin' and buffetin' with the gumbo

A piece of french bread with which to wipe my bowl
Good for the body, good for the soul
It's a little like religion and a lot like sex
You should never know when you're gonna get it next

At midnight in the Quarter or noon in Thibodaux
I will play for gumbo
Hey I will play for gumbo

I will play for gumbo

. . .


By Jimmy Buffett, Roger Guth, Peter Mayer

If necessity was the mother of invention
then I'd like to kill the guy who invented this
The numbers come together in some kind of third dimension
A regular algebraic bliss

Let's starts with something simple
like 1 and 1 ain't 3
any 2 plus 2 will never get you 5
there's fractions in my subtraction
and x don't equal y
but my homework is bound to multiply

Math suks (math suks), Math suks (math suks)
I'd like to burn this text book
I hate that stuff so much
Math suks (math suks), Math suks (math suks)
Sometimes I think that I don't know that much
but math suks

I got so bored with my homework
I turned on the TV
the beauty pageant winners were all smiling through their teeth
and they asked the new Miss America
Hey babe can you add up all those bucks
she looked puzzled then just said "Math Suks"

Math suks (math suks), Math suks (math suks)
You don't even have to spell it
All you have to do is yell it
Math suks (math suks), Math suks (math suks)
Sometime times I think that I don't know that much
But math suks

Geometry and trigonometry and if they don't tax your brain
there are numbers to big to be named
Numerical precision is a science with a mission
and I think its' gonna drive me insane

Parents fighting with their children
and the congress can't agree
teachers and their students are all jousting constantly
management and labor keep rattling old sabres
quacking like those Peabody ducks

Math suks (math suks), Math suks (math suks)
You don't even have to spell it
All you have to do is yell it
Math suks, that's right, Math suks, you got it
Sometime times I think that I don't know that much
but Math suks
all right there goes our G rating

Math suks, math suks, math suks the big one
Math suks, math suks, math suks the big one
Math suks, math suks, math suks the big one

. . .


by: Jimmy Buffett and Mac McAnally

(whistling)
Now I'm not talking 'bout excessive greed
The kind that puzzled the scribes and pharisees
I don't worship it like a golden calf
But change in my pocket is always good for a laugh

Seen it brighten up the eyes of a child
It even makes the Dalai Lama smile
It's no relation to the meaning of life
It's a dang fool husband doesn't spring for his wife

A little spending money
money to burn
money that you did not necessarily earn
Rainy days seem to wind up sunny
Long as you got a little spending money

I got no financial conscience
Can't worry where it went
A lasting treasure a moment of pleasure
worth in every cent

Coin or paper, silver or gold
All Denominations nouveaux or old
Can't have a turkey without oyster dressing
It's the root of all evil the sum of your blessings

Don't need no armored car or time-locked vault
Don't need a shaker full, just a few grains of salt
You may get by looking good and being funny
But life's a little less restrained with a little

Spending money
money to burn
money that you did not necessarily earn
rainy days seem to wind up sunny
long as you got a little spending money
long as you got a little spending money

. . .


by: Mac McAnally

with his head out the sunroof
and his heart in the right place
plan B was foolproof
he drove off to her place
he yelled out his feelings
among other stuff
it was too much tequila
or not quite enough
it was too much tequila
or not quite enough

It's a semi-true story
believe it or not
I made up a few things
and there's some I forgot
But the life and the telling
are both real to me
and they all run together
and turn out to be
a semi-true story

Well the picture is fuzzy
and the details are sorted
it was on the same day that God's Own Drunk was recorded
A walking tall sheriff and a big cadillac
and me and golf shoes on the hood making tracks
this daring young singer was under attack

It's a semi-true story
believe it or not
I made up a few things
and there's some I forgot
But the life and the telling
are both real to me
and they all run together
and turn out to be
a semi-true story

Well the things that I've lived
and I've dreamed
and I've seen
and I've heard
You'll take the good with the bad
and be glad that every word

It's a semi-true story
believe it or not
I made up a few things
and there's some I forgot
But the life and the telling
are both real to me
and they run like the rain
all the way to the sea

. . .


by: Peter Mayer and Roger Guth

Woke up just the other day
fell out of bed and my dog ran away
car won't start and the weather was cold and gray

I got stuck in a traffic jam
My major meeting didn't go as I planned
looks like it's gonna be another one of those days

(chorus)
I got a roof over my head
someone to love me in a 4 poster bed and
I can play this here guitar and
Thank my lucky stars

Politicians speak and it makes me ill
People are dying just for a thrill
maybe it's just evolution gone astray

The climate's too hot, music's gotten cold
I'm living like a health nut but I still grow old
you do what you can on the edge of the Milky Way

(chorus)
gonna thank my lucky stars

wrapped up in the problems of the day
just remember there's no rewind and no replay
so don't you worry cause it ain't gonna fix a thing

(harp)

Woke up just the other day
Thought that maybe I'd be ok
Cause the story I'm been getting ain't written anywhere

(chorus)
gonna thank my lucky stars

(chorus)
gonna thank my lucky stars

. . .


by: Jim Mayer & Jimmy Buffett

Why does the sun set in the west
and why does my heart keep beating in my chest
what ever happened to the Duke of Earl
I gotta PBS mind in an MTV world

Is it ignorance or apathy
I forget these lessons taught to me
Some say life isn't fair
hey I don't know and I don't care

Ambivalent, well yes and no
hey where did all the hippies go
our conversation sounds like actors' lines
is it time for your medication or mine

Is it ignorance or apathy
I forget these lessons taught to me
Some say life isn't fair
hey I don't know and I don't care

Therapy is extremely popular
popin' bubble wrap is radically cheap
you choose which one helps with your problem
I'm gonna get some sleep
I'm gonna get some sleep

(harp solo)

sandy beaches in distant reaches
and all those lovely Georgia peaches
it's never too much and never too late
to pack your bags and get out of state

Is it ignorance or apathy
the worried will all disagree
Some say life isn't fair
hell I don't know and I don't care

If you're looking for a quote from me
I'll be under the mango tree
I just can't say how I'll get there
hey I don't know and I don't care
I don't know and I don't care
I don't know and I don't care

WHITE MAN RAP
je ne sais pas (I don't know)
je ne carer (I don't care - bastardized French?)
and math still suks
uh oh that's the end of this record I gotta go out on the town


. . .


by: Jimmy Buffett, Mac McAnally

Lindbergh left Long Island in 1927
He thumbed his nose at gravity
And climbed into the heavens.
When he returned to earth that night
Everything had changed
for the pilot and the planet
Everything was rearranged

We're a pretty mixed up bunch
Of crazy human beings
It's written on our rocketships
And in early cave wall scenes

How does it happen?
How do we know?
Who sits and watches?
Who does the show?

Some people love to lead
Some refuse to dance
Some people play it safely
Others take a chance

Still, it's all a mystery
This place we call the world
Where most live as oysters
While some become pearls

Now Elvis was the only man
from North East Mississippi
Who could shake his hips
And still be loved by
Rednecks, cops and hippies

It's something more than DNA
That tells us who we are
Its method and magic
We are of the stars

Some never fade away
Some crash and burn
Some make the world go round
Others watch it turn

Still, it's all a mystery,
This place we call the world
Most are fine as oysters

. . .


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