Words   by Don Falcone

This site presents lyrics, poems, articles & other words by Don Falcone,
including those used on CDs by the following recording artists:
Spirits Burning, Spaceship Eyes, Melting Euphoria, and Thessalonians



 


Dig a the, Dig a the, Dig a the earth . . .
Dig a the, Dig a the, Dig a the earth . . .

It's an alien injection
That's what she needs
An alien injection
for all our infections

One little boost
To see the up and the coming
A solution we pray
Help! is on the way

Saw her today, she looked dead
It could be, I heard she died
Scan the paper, touch the ink
She finally got her name in print

That's all I see, that's all I'll read
I don't know time, I don't know space
Lots of creatures just like her
They dance with rhythm, then they pull away

Rattle and reach -- I come apart
Rattle and reach -- to put together again
Rattle and reach -- make images
Rattle and reach -- to dig out . . .

Send her flowers she can't wear
Send a card that she can't read
This happens when the children stay
out too late and really start to play

And the boat that she rows on the delta narrow
is an antique ship that salt water will rip
And the scarf-covered course that once bridled a horse
soon tames a black cat and makes others grow fat

Rattle and reach -- I come apart
Rattle and reach -- to put together again
Rattle and reach -- make images
Rattle and reach -- to dig out . . .

Dig a the, Dig a the, Dig a the earth . . .
Dig a the, Dig a the, Dig a the earth . . .

It's an alien injection
That's what she needs
An alien injection
for all our infections

One little boost
To see the up and the coming
A solution we pray
and Help! is on the way

Rattle and reach -- I come apart
Rattle and reach -- to put together again
Rattle and reach -- make images
Rattle and reach -- to dig out and dig in

(Just give it a day, help is on its way)

I like to wear my alien close to my heart
It's such a cool t-shirt, I bought 2 right from the start
I guess you could say I treat it like a piece of art
This alien that I wear so close to my heart

I've got a (little) round alien ball to boot
She comes to life when I squeeze her roots
I keep it in a box in a closet in a room in a house
in a country in a world in a planet
and I hope she'll live forever
Mmm... I hope she'll last forever . . .

Rattle and Reach . . .

secrets in books put away
some freefalls and lovers
and boxes of winter and play
no breathing, no sleeping . . .

I never realized
the length of string
I don't comprehend
all the rubies, all the rubies

tomorrow's the biggest day
the warmest, the wisest
here comes the moment of sway
no hiding no sliding . . .

I never realized
the length of string
I don't comprehend
all the rubies, all the rubies

this one is me . . . that one is you

one crams the dream
the other the soul
like a cool cream
that takes its toll

these things our hands can hold
these things that can blind us
we hold these things to light
some pass, some don't

all the rubies, all the rubies, all the rubies
for better or worse

no one keeps mum
we tell all, all we know
no one keeps mum
we tell all


Balance is alive
and sensitive to touch
Balance is abstract
It is surreal,
Balance is strong yet weak, faithful yet ignorant.
It is the hope
That vice and virtue
Find themselves, in an
Eternal juxtaposition.
Balance is a disease
Balance is a must.
Balance occupies our minds and our souls,
Refusing to release its hold
Balance is what it is
By birthright, by name.
We have great need for balance.



Be Here Now
(Mantra by Don Falcone)
From Thessalonians "Soulcraft" -- 1993

Let the slide and sway of my voice

Melt the mask

Put in place at your birth

Your body

Is now fully revealed

And disappears

Into the void

My voice mirrors this illusion

My tongue slips

My words drift

And my voice becomes clear

-- It hangs forever

  

(i) Luana Doom!
Luana, Luana, doom!
Luana, Luana, doom!
Luana, Luana, doom!
Luana, Luana, doom . . .

(ii) Luana The Duchess
Duchess of hard
And all of her dukes
Frame by frame, she's still
Living in the song

Duchess of hard
And all of her dukes
Snapshot within our History Web
She's left for dead on the Editor's Block

Her real life forever locked
So, so many lost tick tocks
Time to roll, get ready to go
To the next chapter, but not alone

Get ready for . . . amazing sounds

Galaxina, Doom Fighter
Fantasy abounds
Amazing sounds

To the next chapter now
But not alone
Galaxina, Doom Fighter
Fantasy abounds


(iii) A Preacher For Luana
There's a man with a gun
And he fires lots of word
Is he good or is he bad
What does he want with us

Reading and writing is what he learned
How will he use it
Reading and writing is what he learned
Now he will use it

Sights a girl as evil
Because she wears denim tight
Is he laughing with us
Why does he laugh at all

Reading and writing is what he learned
How will he use it
Reading and writing is what he's learned
Now he will use it (to show the world his way)

You can call him the preacher
You can judge him as he judges us
He's a willing servant to a god
He believes in and trusts

We can call him the preacher
We can judge him as he judges us
He's a willing servant to a god
Who believes in and trusts

Has a home in the sky
Held by string, held by hope
Wrapped around the crowd below
Keep them in good 'n' tight

Reading and writing is what he learned . . .

Sights a good as evil
Says she swears every night
And a boy just as bad
Says he falls right behind

Reading and writing is what he learned . . .

You can call him the preacher
You can judge him as he judges us
He's a willing servant to a god
He believes in and trusts
We can call him the preacher
We can judge him as he judges us
He's a willing servant to a god
Who believes in and trusts

There's our girl with no clothes
And she fires lots of word
Is she good or she bad
What does she want with us

Reading and writing is what we've learned . . .


iv. Luana The Host (& the Carnival for the Defense)
Luana, Luana, doom . . .

It's our carnival of time
Our carnival of space
We take it on the road
To see what we can show

It's not about - art
Or note-ability
We just want to leave a mark
On society

You can be god, you can be a man
and I will be the host
You can be the players, you can be the audience
and I will be the host

It's our carnival of time
Our carnival of space
We take it to the road
To see what we can show

It's not about - art
Or note-ability
We just want to leave a mark

(It's our carnival of time
Our carnival of space)

You can be god, you can be a man
and I will be the host
You can be the start, you can be the end
And I will be the host


The fire's fierce theatre draws herds of folk
All willing to be hynotised;
Anemones of flame and reefs of smoke
Enchant us so, we'd gladly choke
To see the dark so well disguised.

'Oh, look, the Bible's all on fire', we cheered
At its catching. 'Oh watch it flare'.
It was like this of old, when witches reared
Against the stake; we stood and peered
At such Aladdin caves of air.

These mushrooming billows of coral form
The fevered brain of fire on high,
Whose dream of destroying the world by storm
Will, in the ashes, still be warm
Long after its illusions die.

 

cannot see myself today
so I do what I want
I have to sin today
I have to sin today
and now I'm sorry,    sometimes

think I see a clearing in the forest
think I see a like city in your mind
think I feel a lover on my back
think I feel your fingers scratching at that

I must end what I begin today
it's my time
and now i'm sorry,    sometimes

think I see a clearing in the forest
think I see a like city in your mind
think I feel a lover on my back
think I feel your fingers scratching at that

every opera needs a waterfront
and my opera is no different from yours


Future Perfect State
(Liner Notes by Don Falcone)
From Spice Barons "Future Perfect State" -- 1995

 

In my room of privacy
A voice takes me to fantasy
Go to bed boy and we will dream
Go to bed boy from here on out

The hawk in my room
Won't leave me alone
He's here on the wall
He's here in my soul
He's the worse thing that I've ever owned
He cuts to the bone

Learn to tear and learn to die
Anger from the core he makes me fly
Just a start of eyes of fire
Don't know why I never tire

The hawk in my room
Won't leave me alone
He's here on the wall
He's here in my soul
He's the worse thing that I've ever owned
He cuts to the bone

The hawk in my room
Won't leave me alone
Choose your friends well
To get to the heart
The hawk in my room
Won't leave me alone
Choose your friends well
With time to depart


and soon, I will tell, I will tell you,
it is safe to touch, to,

digi, dig, dig a thee earth,
digi, dig, dig a thee earth,
digi, dig, dig a thee earth,

as no one listens

dig,

dig

touch,

we are out,

we are out,

we are out,

earshot

Songs, demos, project
The lyrics to this novel
Songs, demos, project
The only opportunity

The only opportunity
The clips heard here
The only opportunity

Sitting way back on your father's chair
Watching the TV breathing
Feeling the love your mother gave
You know she's upstairs sleeping.
And when you go to sleep, the world is turning
The fire in your dream, it starts to flicker
And when you go to sleep, the world is turning
You are just one spirit burning.
Rush of a car going past your house
And the trees are blowing
Someone on TV is getting shot
And the blood is flowing.
And when you go to sleep, the world is turning
The fire in your dream, it starts to flicker
And when you go to sleep, the world is turning
You are just one spirit burning.

The eye is a window to the world.
Beyond this window is a craft.
It wears wings and makes thunder.
This is our crash.
This is our spaceship eyes.

You're pulling it off again
The sheets that hide crime
You cannot pretend
This isn't the time
This is the real time

You say you want to live
You want the water, the one that gives
And you see it running down your back
Giving slack along our attack
And you hope someone's in the mood
Any he says hey baby can I please
You're my prisoner and you must escape
I've sure you've got some dinner on the take

You're pulling it off again
The sheets that hide crime
You cannot pretend
This isn't the time
This is the real time

Looking at our history
I don't see no mystery
It never matter who would win
We would call off the sin

I could look you in the eye
And I knew I wouldn't . . . .

This is the real time
This is the real time


Robert Calvert, Art Hero and Inventor
(Article by Don Falcone)
First Appearance in Progression Magazine, Summer/Fall, 2000 Issue



Don Falcone -- November 15th, 2000


The Silent Channel
(Liner Notes by Don Falcone)
For "From Here to Tranquility, Vol 5" -- 1995

Don Falcone - November 15, 1995




 

The gift horse is a Trojan horse
Her mouth is full of snake
My love, you may go to sleep
Lay your trust in me, and I'll stay awake

The midnight dream is an endless dream
Whispers die in an ocean of steam
My love, you may go to sleep
Lay your trust in me, and I'll stay awake

Lay your trust, lay, lay
Lay your trust in me.

The train is in your way
She's no good for you
The train is in your way
She may never reach, but stay in view

Your boyhood home is a priceless home
The wind can cradle and metal can shake
My love, you may go to sleep
Lay your trust in me, and I'll stay awake

Lay your trust, lay, lay
Lay your trust in me.


360
(Mantra by Don Falcone)
From Thessalonians "Solaristics" -- 1995/2005


In a circle 
we gather our possessions, 
our earthly goods: we drink gasoline 
and build a flame to burn sharp the past 
until all that remains is the earth 
     and us.          

   

Each time you look, each time you touch
There is a mark you make
Each time you look, each time you touch
There is a love you hate

And it takes years to recover and misplace
Yes it takes years to discover and replace
This mark you make, this mark you make
When you misfire, when you misfire
Each time you look . . .

Please focus, before you shoot
I wouldn't want to see you do me wrong
Don't overlook, or estimate
I wouldn't want to be like that for long
Please focus, before you shoot
I only ask when I'm not strong

Each time you look, each time you touch
There is a mark you make
Each time you look, each time you touch
There is a love you hate

And it takes years to recover and misplace
Yes it takes years to discover and replace
This mark you make, this mark you make
When you misfire, when you misfire

Each time you look . .
This mark you make, this mark you make
Each time you look . .
This mark you make, this mark you make
This mark you make . . .

 


Unidentified Floating Ambience
(Liner Notes by Don Falcone)
For "Unidentified Floating Ambience" -- 1994

Don Falcone



I'm the quiet side of midnight in a deserted room
My laughter the shiver
Released from its tomb

I am
and I'm not
Anything
You can't see

(chorus)
You open your eyes, and you will see
You'll see the walking shadow arrive
You open your eyes, and you will see
You'll see the walking shadow alive

I am the walking shadow
Enter wher your dreams have fled
The nocturnal spectre
No sound like a cat paws tread

I'm a faint line in space
A border where nothing exists
A retinal void
The memory you're unable to resist

I am
and I'm not
Anything
You can't see

(chorus)
You open your eyes, and you will see
You'll see the walking shadow arrive
You open your eyes, and you will see
You'll see the walking shadow alive

I am the walking shadow
I continue when you cease to be
I infiltrate all light
Cause your vision to flee




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