Tape from California [Live]

Phil OchsPhil Ochs 

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Phil Ochs

Philip David Ochs ( /ˈoʊks/; December 19, 1940 – April 9, 1976) was an American protest singer (or, as he preferred, a topical singer) and songwriter who was known for his sharp wit, sardonic humor, earnest humanism, political activism, insightful and alliterative lyrics, and distinctive voice. He wrote hundreds of songs in the 1960s and released eight albums in his lifetime. more »

Year:

1997

3:50

66 Views

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#2

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Who's that coming down the road
A sailor from the sea
He looks a lot like me
I'd know him anywhere, had to stare 

Feathers at his fingertips
A halo 'round his spine
He must have lost his mind
He should be put away, right away

In the corner of the night
He handed me his waterpipe
His eyes were searching deep inside my head
Here's what he said

Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California
New York city has exploded and it's crashed upon my head

I dove beneath the bed
Fighting, biting nails, turning pale
The landlord's at my window
And the burglar's at my door

I can't take it anymore
I guess I'll have to fly, it's worth a try
Someone's banging on the wall
But there's no party to recall

The singer of the shadows of his soul
So he's been told
Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow

But I'll send you a tape from California
From the mirror of my mantle to the velvet on my bed
Trapped upon a stolen stage, a Barrymore at best(?)
My rhymes are all repeating, ballads growing blind

Words have turned to water, the women turned to wine
The draft board is debating if they'd like to take my life
I'd sooner take a wife and have raise a child or two
Wouldn't you?

Peace has turned to poison
The flag has blown a fuse
Even courage is confused
And now all the brave are in the grave

Century is bending(?)
Have a very happy ending
To the victor go the ashes of the spoil
Seeds in the soil

Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California
The flower-power fuller brush man

Is farming out his friends
I stabbed him with my stem
And then I tapped his toes with my rose
He crawled around inside himself

Now he's crawling after me
Dropping acid in my tea
He wants to save his soul
Rock and roll

One of us must understand
It's not the drug that makes the man
Then a poster of a movie star walked by
He must have been high

Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California
Half the world is crazy and the other half is scared

Maddonas do the minuet for the naked millionaires
The anarchists are rising while we're racing for the moon
It doesn't take a seer to see that the scene is coming soon
So who's that coming down the road

A sailor from the sea
He looks a lot like me
I'd know him anywhere
Had to stare

A fire around his fingertips
A song around his spine
He must have found his mind
He should be put away

Anyway
Surrounded by the slaughter
Now I'm boarding(?) at the border
When the echoes of my ecstasy appear

Wish I was here
Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California

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