I broke down and used auto tune!!!!!

this was a freestyle I did and ended up putting autotune on it. why, you might ask?
well b/c I can as much as I hate it I also need to understand why its so popular?
again,why is it popular?

math class...daydream by max fisher...produced by crutchboy....streaming at http://owl1978.blogspot.com

this is from the forthcoming digital downable album from max fisher...out in 2012...when the world is dead and gone.

new max fisher song streaming at http://owl1978.blogspot.com

They Climbin latters reaching the top

So high in the air they’ll break they neck if they get dropped

Covered in swag

Blackberries and them Gucci tags

Is that rap? I workin my ass off to skate

Take my old lady on a date

Under 20 bucks baby we gotta save for months

they take int’l flights overnight

we can’t gas up the tank to make it to the bank

but one day I believe we’ll see that light

God reassured my everythings gonna be alright

I know we ain’t promised tomorrow

It could all end in a blink of an eye

So how we treat each other is crucial in this life.




Hook:

Cash lacking debit stacking
Micro managing funds
Maybe baby I’m just dumb
Maybe I’m numb to the nail wounds
Forever son
\come soon!





We the people
Want freedom from
Financial woes
We the people
Want the government to keep there
Hands off our dough
Cash rules everything around a fool
Sheeps wool
Softer
drooling at the wheel, officer
Cut credit cards
Duck debtors hard
The love of money
Roots embedded in that evil
None equal when they lay chips on the table
The greed of men makes them spit them
Fables
Telling fibs
Why poverty got kids
With sunken ribs
And malnutrition bellys
Dehydrated lips
With flies regurgitating shit
But up in them glass houses
They don’t see this kinda of
Shit blind to it or just a crime
If they see through it but I guess if yr money’s
Lite you
Gotta get yr money rightX6

new city gypsys streaming at http://owl1978.blogspot.com

I'm posting rare songs from the first new city gypsys sessions
the new city gypsys comprised of terrible telly (Mariano senter), jay oh yes (Josiah fields), and matter (Matt gilbertson)
production was handled by jay oh yes and later the addition of Drum (Clancy Clark)
overseen by hart larew in the summer of 03 to the fall of 04 in Iowa City, IA this groups sound has a unique focus on the literary arts and the concepts usually had a focus on beat generation Icon jack Kerouac's spontaneous prose
I'll be posting new songs as frequently as possible and digging in the vaults to unlock rare and hidden material from
the dynamic group...

the interview

I went out and bought 54 dollar slacks, 39 dollar shoes, 92 bucks total.
I was ready the 7:30 am shove of my girlfriend awoke me.
I reluctantly rolled out of bed if only she forewarned me of the day.
I put on my day old slacks, and new shoes I was on my second interview
for the latitude Group, they wanted me to see what they do, when I finally
got my tie on straight, nervous- gut wrench feeling in the belly, I made my way to my car.
when I got to 5901 christi ave. in emeryville; went up the elevator to the fourth
floor, made a right went up a flight of stairs and hooked another right: Suite 500.
I walked through the doors there was a big 50 inch flat screen playing shawshank redemption...I thought this isn't good the possibility of the deeply moving innocence of jail time being displayed as justice...in a marketing firm?
this interview was to show me the direct sales appoach to marketing and the foot work of the entry level position of sales. I knew the common sale-pitch, but this was the show. we ended up going to some girls car and heading to San Mateo. My shoes were so uncomfortable. My shirt didn't fit.The day before, my girlfriend and I, went into SF around powell and mission, or was it market st, by union square? My girl bought the slacks. I sat there and worked on the crowd all these young college girls discussing earrings. The trip was made for the reason of going to the asian art museum for the Butanese thangkas this was on our way home, that we made this stop and purchased the slacks. Monday morning
the dull boring start of my second interview. We're in this girl's car and it starts to rain...great footwork...direct sales...in the rain.
by the time we reached the mall parking lot I knew I spent more to go to this job than what the job required. By this time she tells me what they do-I'm not pleased.
"when we get there some people might tell you to leave their stores or say you can't solicit, we just don't let it get us down we just move on." she smiles
" I'm gonna be asking you questions about your day and what you think about the job."
before this leaves her lips
she's on to the next babbling sentence then on to the first
customer (pet smart shop) a pet trainer
"hi can I ask you a ?, nothing crazy I was wondering if you or someone you know likes
to have fun, right? well, I'm w/ city lights crusies and we're celebrating a huge
expansion and we're inviting all our friends to come
and
join us."

title wave the last ocean of sound

the common ground
is in the _________________________________refraction
the light is in the _________________________________dwelling
place of birth :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::the idea
of trinity
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>33333333 is three 3333333333333333
with the
basis of one 1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
as the father

_______________________and who'd of thought we'd
________________________________________________know sound?

or the _____________________________________________________underlining plug of
quiet-still-photo's of
the past?


///////////////////////I remember little
of last night//////////////// and last night remembers little of me.

_______________ only wish to be
saved from -------myself
not by some notion of God
_________________________but by God...
this is the tricky part
we know
what is
........best
yet,
************************what we do isn't necessarily good for the
heart..take drugs, for instance,
we've outlawed certain ones
and built billion dollar empires
off orange bottles
with doctor recommended
dosages... and the side effects?
well, the real killer is our thirst for
cures and putting off death.

when we wait next to the
washer
machine
we see
the shadow
of what is
to come
and
then we know
in part
what is the
destruction of being

the nature of man
and the will of the heart

can we understand the turning
point in life
when we give up on the
desires
and shift the focus
to the eternal
saving grace
of the sun
and bask in the light of his
child...?

our face planted in the ground
and then slowly getting up on the knees
and bowing our heads in humility and
telling God who am I?

hollywood jay ep

mystic bum

opps?....

my fly space ship rides through the past, my astronaut suit is built to last

we travel the space waves
outer rim
everglades

_____________arm yourself
_____________against the Devil
___oh, he preys
___oh, he preys

Oh, you better pray

brethren, 7Th horn in the 3rd
dimension sounded
capture empty
space, just the
way it goes some days

stand behind the yellow line to marvel at time wasted away
whittle little wooden legs to help the dear drummer boy
run away
live lessons of love
under
the
tree
smell
passion
between
the
sheets

but passion withers in the breeze,

like me...

mouth mentioned months
of may the same year our dear drummer boy
got saved, then passed away
oh tormentor, torture the tempted, not the depraved.
witchy hour witch
wanted to switch sour seats with me
the line hangs love over the edge
the negative space is the cliff
do you notice, the notion of men?
their byproduct of pride?
the line is left
the notion of self.

...for the love of a good ole' fashion
price slashing, nice to meet you in the clearance section ass lashing
lesson you learned in suffering, which, in Latin means
passion time for some


action.

the sweet peas...are 3 dollars or two for five.

waking up at six am
slanging farm food
to women with mustaches
and I still grow my
frown and speak soft
when a passer bye
walks in front of my stand





"the sweet peas...are 3 dollars or two for five."

the cure of heart burn and other home remedies

betty boop
:::::::::::::steady troops
the aim is sloppy
and the food taste
like poop
we've had better wasted nights
under glows
and
bug bites

the grill wouldn't light
the vase was cracked

afternoon
belittled by subtlety
sober ganders
people walking market st
MoMO for kentridge exhibit was

wine

pulling weeds and planting cities

she throws her
rite aid bag
at my car window
and starts yelling in German
I thought
by picking her up
she'd be pleased,
but my Christian charity
back fires as usual

I'm stuck
being yelled at
in the
Lucky's parking lot.


This is what
happens when you age
you settle down with a person
you know you love
because you can't stand them
but your inescapably
drawn to them,
we choose to love
not feel in love with someone
when your partner says
"I fell out of love with you"
it's a simple way of saying
they don't want to put forth the effort
to
save
what
is
left
from two people
who gave up on the nice qualities of being
polite and civil
now they can't stand each other's
lack of respect
for the space needed
to feel free and
clam...

this to isn't truth or any form of love.
love and it's highest form is selfless...
which if you'd also realize
doesn't harbour any true attachment
to the other
much less to the self.
its' only outcome is the benefit of love
and the joy and peace
it brings to the giver,
and not the giver as receiver,
but giver as in God
or as in ~God is love.
adequate love is done for the remark of no return
and to see the flourishing growth
of a flower
in a proper meadow
its the stream of laughter
from the child's heart
that's too young
to see the hardship
and sacrifice
of the parent

God has the ultimate sacrifice
the love of his children
hence freewill
the longing for love from his own
which choose not to recognize him.
This is why we state
God is love
the selfless love of a disowned parent
still writing the checks
to keep the
rebellious teen in his/her apt.
friends, to live as love
one must accept the self to be purged
and to relinquish control of its nature
nothing will free us more
than understanding the great
longing of love
other than giving up our need of it
from
any
source
outside
of
God.
the divine love
is what should
control our action,
but rarely does.
the lust that enslaves us
is the reason our
personal relationships
falter
and we tend to go out
and look for the same personality
in the next mate,
then quickly and readily
complain about their faults
not completely understanding why
we've duped our own
reasoning in to
a four corner white padded cell...
I urge you to take action
and rid your vocabulary
of the senseless use of Feeling
to describe your love for another
and see what you can conjure up to describe Love...
it'll be a deeper love one with substance and meaning
not another tear saddened,
madness-driven obsession
with desire and lust
that was readily passed off as Love
if you lack fulfillment
look no further
than you own rationale
why you've been placed in
this garden
pulling weeds
instead of planting cities.

long live the consumer sell out

I'm going to make this the last
vision of fields

the one where the flowers wilt
in Meadows

this one is for her and him
and them.

the sky is blue so they tell
from my room

the door has been closed for sometime
the outside world and its glamour doesn't
feed the soul as reading the old blue book
can...

master of mind
she can't do

the world will and can and is
Choking you.

but never mind sweet and flattering words for they
are sure to fleet

and fly high when
the opportunity
makes itself

the thing to do now is
let the greatest of tears
fall
and let the greatest memories fade

for what is life but
a place we brush up with
then our glory fades with love ones
history herstory
already fades

the grave is stone and dirt and grass
the urn is ash and enclosed dust
nothing really counters the
relinquished heartburn

if you want my opinion
be as a sheep not
a wolf

live how they want
and depression and sadness
will over come you in
a heart beat

if you want to know the secret of joy
then come and sit with me
we can discuss the
properties of man
we can expel doubt from the circle
and make squares

or we can just eat some food and
ask out bodies to hold up till the decay
allows them to rot
many are vain

but none like you
for you seek out
a truth
but deny the source

what would it be like if God
walked in the room?

would he see the
shallowness of your depth
and laugh
or
cry?

he'd probably go to
a cross and die.

the root of beer

to be drunk everynight
encounters a slight wrench in the game plan

to be high everyday
encounters a slight bolt in the engine

to be in prayer every waking hour
leaves one high and drunk


now is the hour
get on them knees


pray

death is life in a counter culture like mine

if the future moves forward I'm back a couple decades
I'm now relieving myself of my car and soon
some of my most prized possessions,
my underground hip hop tapes.
a nerdy collection of people's music
no one ever heard except a couple thoundsand people.

I have no income

I have no future

I'm either planning to move back to the Midwest
as i found my parents will be foreclosing on their home
and moving to Iowa...
I feel a great need to help them or
if a miracle happens I can stay here and work a job, but those
dreams are steadily fading...
I'm no more than a drum beat away
from
losing all my possessions
and becoming a roaming monk.
a lost soul
a mystic man with no home land

America
woe woe to you

she has fallen.

gross the girl's eyes are on water

if the tears indicated
sadness, then this girl was sick.

she hunched over the tabletop and read a letter.
one would believe, he said some splitting remarks...
----------------------------leaving codes

no oxoxoxoxxx

"I was merely a passenger,
a side-stepping-stone on the way to his greatness"
sniffling out her sobs
and snot nose retracting beams of
nasal blockage.

I can't handle when they tell me of there heart ache
just by passing them in public.
leave, go in your room,
tell god.

but here i witnessed it all
and couldn't of been more disturbed
by the thought of never needing or wanting such
access into one's personal life
especially in public, but the tears fell

dream catchers strike out


the suffering is a byproduct of the want of
attention

the byproduct then turns into a life beating blood force

un-rationalized by the discernment of judgement

it messy in the end
and here adjacent from my picnic table I witnessed
this
-------- byproduct.

i threw my brown bagged lunch in the trash.

lets make things easy on ourselves...kill the bias and drowned in the opinion

harder for me to wake up
harder for me to sleep at night
its harder to apply for a job
its harder to breathe
fresh even in the hills
the coughing is nightly
the insanity is what can shake
heart strings, threads, needles sow.
harder to call the people i love
its harder to pray for direction
the slip of liqour goes down with a sort of
ease
the keyboard is easier to type
when know one looks
the bed spends more time on my ass
then the feet
and it still is hard
to ask
for hands out
but thankful when they come

i never thought of life on my planet would be a constant meditation on death

never saw the hardest walk to a cross
then when I decided to pick up
mine
and follow his.

redemption
is the light bulb flickering
before out....

you might not wear a mask but you're ulgy

pride can
look humble

and the bottom tends to
have bitter teeth gashing at feet of
holy highs and righteous rollers

the problem with the critic
is he misunderstands
the lesson

he can teach but never learn
he can tell you of formulas
but never invent
he himself is
a restricted
poem

he is an Amen
more to his own flesh
than his heart is,

poop is the new piss

looks like shit
she says
overlooking the gallery on
telegraph

I mean
what colors and shades does
he think he's using?

and the contrast?

sipping a gin and tonic
I slide up behind her and

comment

wow it almost looks real

ha! do you hear this fool
this poop is the new piss!

ART

the ground is air

last
time
we walked
this far
the
breath


lost
all
hope

gasped
fresh
inhales
a
longing for
smog


open up the road

lost ocean of doubt

it sways
it talks of this
it talks of that

it tells one to stop its course
turn the ship around

it sways
it tells tales
it tells of betrayals

it talks of waves
turning the sound off

it is dark in caves
but the sun is out there

its time to board
and not look
back at the
ocean floor

two days with no sight of the end at hand

wilt warm the brandy is sipped by an expert
the wine is gulped like a fish on dry air
the beer is vats of fryer oil in the gut
the gin is the easiest with bubbles

the party goes on for nights
the days are short
the long nights
are wrong lights to a
decision made by fools with wine glasses
on top of broken televisions

she complains and talks of leaving relinquishing her duties to me
I'd be a full time nanny
with nothing
a slave
and a decent man
of the night where the long wash board
and dishes would pile
and my old heart tickers with fury
over the keyboards
and I still, like a caveman, write longhand

the lonely night of my love
is over and I'm left with a bitter
twinge of aspiration
to keep the gas pedal compressed down\until the
root of disaster fades

or the heaven's open and I pray
so loud the quieting souls repent
or God opens the clouds back and sends me his
son
the glory of his wrath subsided
into the rapture of the end

I go to the frig and
crack the 6th beer open
its time to finish this one.

she lies to you and can't tell the truth to me

she sees another

yet i fully understand why

I gave up being jealous
if needs to feel his touch
and grow cold to mine

i fully understand why.

I'm not of a man anymore

(at least to the worlds standards)

I'm poor in wealth
rich in spirit

I lack nothing of god
but gain nothing from the world
seek first the kingdom

and the world will naturally despise you.

the joy of spirit comes from the holy
not the longings of fantasy
I've become a man and gave up the wrestling
the wandering
the struggle can consume me
and I'll happily laugh at the clouds
nothing really takes my joy away
anymore

poverty is the gift from god
and it is given to those who use it wisely

prepare yourself.

if i was simple, you'd need not tell me

nothing is like the sky
nothing is plain blue like my eyes

if I'm simple you need not tell me.

if long walks to gather my peace
would suffice then my feet would never stop
stepping in line

if I'm simple you need not tell me.

the same cereal in the mornings
make me boring
you need not tell me

the TV always on
makes one dull
you need not tell me

if the only book
you've read is the bible
you need not tell me

if the only simple thing we do
is die

need not remind the deceased
awake the living.

if we are simple, you need not tell us.

if aspirations makes you travel far away
would not the dying longing of heart disappear?

if I'm simple you need not tell me.

if I long for her and she
stands firm in not wanting me
you need not tell me

a flower looks simple from a distant
but until your nose sniffs
and the smell opens up your eyes
then you need not tell me.

I too, was once simple in scope and complex
at length, but when you approach me gentle

then you to can smell my rose
and find the budding of my soul.


if you never change your dream and rot in poverty
the beauty will only be seen from those
that wish to smell

if I'm simple, you need not tell me.

not one color

not one color, but many make our
faces

not simple shades but deep lines
engrave wisdom in wrinkles

not one color can be found on
the body. but dozens

not simple lines or shallow eyes
make sleep restore beauty
but the dreams we sleep on
and the waking hours we chose
to sleep through make us
alive

not one color
not two colors

m i l l i o n s
of shades and complexities
make us; define us

breathe with each other
the blood in side keeps us red

but our faces tell of a different story
one with crying, laughter
heartaches
and everyday letdowns
the girl getting away
the life we'd hope for
that passed

not one color makes us
but many shades.

strong words only cause reaction

time to be a man
time to hold up the cup and
praise man
for his invention

time to be a woman
time to hold up the cup and
praise woman
for her strong will

time to be human
time to hold up the cup and
praise the human race
for their survival

time to be children
time to hold up the cup and
praise the father
for his gift of life

time to be godly
time to hold up the cup and
pray for holiness

God knows we need it.

comedy is a depressed man's form of ...

the ego usually has little to say
but the mouth is always running

he can be charming, but sad
as such thinkers are

the funny face
is a broken heart

the funny bone
is the center of grief

tragedy is the
humorous
epic of downfall

the downfall
is actually the selling
of the joke


and then comes the pause



the pause is the

remedy

it makes everyone
in the room
laugh


its the sad man's
mask

its the way he
closes in on the danger of life and
makes it futile in scope.

cash is the root of a roof

if the money is good
the roof isn't made out of
glass

if the money isn't so
good then you have to share
a roof with people
you love, but think
you're a worthless bum
that needs to get off his ass
and get a job.

the second Coors light goes down
with heart burn and i wonder
if the depression is a view of
my sociological research

self-pity has no room
in the outcome of ambition
or the end goal of the world point
of view

in God's ideal world
we'd own nothing
but our hearts and
give only the love
of our actions


here on earth a bum approached
me for spare change
I handed him 40 cents, my last 40 cents
and i couldn't pay for dinner
but someone who loves me
kept my belly warm
and grace is seen when
we strip down the
riches of comfort.

crisis the
world is in a crisis
I see it not.
we're in a renewal of faith

if I lackluster its because I only see whitewalls

today i read
yesterday i drank

today I hear things
yesterday was yelling

today I'll drink to forget the horror
yesterday I had hope

today is what will become
yesterday was as if the same.

today a toad hops
yesterday a worm wiggled

today the birds play along
yesterday my cat scratched my leg

today is for lovers
yesterday was solitude

today I'll be nothing more than yesterday
yesterday I was believed to be what makes the future today

as it turned out I am
a mixture of gin
and half juice and a promise
of yesterday was broken today

dirty oils on skin

upstairs lives noise
and the TV is watching

upstairs he doesn't sleep
he's a widow

upstairs the chuckle
is alone

upstairs the roof
is all but held together

down here i can't
sleep the thoughts
of retreat haunt
me

down here
i feel captive to hunger
and a slave to sound

down here
the willows sing
of sad sneezes
and coughing
night

upstairs the light is
always on
the children are neglected
and the price for
home is not as the plan goes

haven't showered in days and the way
my luck has it
all wake up in the shower
not knowing how i got there

but feeling absolutely cleansed

glass golden with piss warm wine

blood in the stool

drinking has its privileges

warm wine willows would

blow bottle-tops below lips

the hands switch off the glass
the tongue slurs
and the women lose grip
the clouds cold the front
of the fresh air from my view
each day is worth a wine glass
each day is worth a gulp
each day is worth the
salt in a water so vast

its called an ocean and
the only one who knew the
past secrets of the water
was the drunk

the drunk can swim in the depths
the drunk can wake up and get drunk with glory
as we age some of us drink wine and act civilized

I say

"fuck civilization"

FRIENDS WITH TITLES

we seem to dictate titles to each other

and glorify the mundane

the purple rooster chokes

the looser quotes the newspaper
for his sense of intellectual esteem
and the poet laughs

chuckles a so-what-does-the-trivial
want from death?

the grim critic is the soul within

and the looker of youth is old and ratted
with the lock of love in their hair and the
air is brisk as the rain pelts the tree fig
into dirt and the winter flush face of cold mornings
make the covers a fire place

the title
is the glory of high school reunion
and the bum never makes it back
and the time is a joking matter of luck and
facts get blown out into a place where dreams swallow
the last bit of cheese

titles
make women more viable to sleep with
and the title of the spirit is charming to the holy
but for the famous its a laughing stock
and the willing of poor men that need the money
would say anything for the fame
but the bum wills for a title of drunkard
piss stained smell of nothing and the


last thing men will talk about of the dead is

the human aspects we never lived up to

a title
a saint
a
halo of a man

AM VS PRO

the look it takes
to feel control
isn't the same as
the rest
+++++++++++
the NEWS is told as legend
and the legend isn't much of new

as of late the inexperienced seem
to make headlines

_________I remember when two people met
and made a child and then their dreams faded
and they placed those dreams in their child's eyes but the same
blood pumps through them...

I remember the dream distilled in a bottle of jack Daniels
and the night the burn was numb and the hopes were high
then we too met that someone


and our dream faded into children's eyes

the Professionals know
the way is lonely

the Amateurs know the way is
lonely

the child knows only the dream pumping through their blood
till life wanes

and the next child is born


be a professional and keep the children in the sack and the love cold
and the heart stone

and you might not
know love but you'll know
the dream and the possibility
of a world filled------------ with lonely hope
and an heart filled with indecision's
as the same blood is torn from your family tree to make
a dream accomplished, but never passed.

blood is the thinning of soul

I can barely lift the drink up to my lips.
I can barely hope to eat...I can barely feel my legs
most of the time I'm too drunk or high to
look up and see the glory of God
but JOY will never be robbed of
the spirit
I can barley pray but some how I know God listens
I can barely argue with the girl I know
will never be married to me...
I have little to no cash and even a shorter will and drive to become

I can still mix the drinks and I still sip on the smoke
and I still walk with the thorn in my side
but what I could never do is come out of my shell
and let the world know the hell which is in thought
nor could I ever tell my family what useless matter my body has become
but let not the bitter of the world tear the JOY of heaven from your lips
the drunkard's love of the great wine
leave your lips and let the cup
get you drunk the pipe inhale yr lungs and
let the wealth of the world hang itself
and let us once again get drunk on the belove's cup
devine was rumi's heart ours
polluted with smog and grime that I can barely get the cup to my lips

but I stay drunk....