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Walking down and I witnessed a crime,
It happens all the time,
Whether you’re an authority,
Or, just some guy parking… like me.

George Smith,
George Smith,
George Smith Towing.

Greed,
You wanna beat me?
I’m not your wife,
Get out of my life.

Making all that bad juju voodoo,
That you do.

Try taking the car out of park,
Not random vandalism,
On the lark.

George Smith,
George Smith,
George Smith Towing.

by Daniel and Gandalf

PART II

George Smith,
George Smith,
The towing that’s owing,
George Smith

Dear George Smith,

Pursuant to your towing,
We find you to be owing,
For crimes against civility.

See, your boy,
Did crushed our joy,
As we were trying to have fun with Fun.

Then, on my way to find New Found Glory,
Your boy got in the way…
Ruined the day…
Ruined liberty’s story.

He threatened us once,
He threatened us twice,
He terrorized men into mice.

Is this your car?
I’m going to lick you,
Puss e!

I’m going to tow this car far.
Er, a… I would if I knew how to tow a car,
But so far,
No.

No know,
I ain’t been edjewmacated on the crimes I commit… throw a fit,
Shall I call the cops?

Please do,
Hang on,
I’ll get them for you.

No need to make threats on whose asses are moped… rather know good comes out on top.

by Daniel

Girl,
I’m just a boy,
Call me up,
Tell me your problems,
I can be your man.

I don’t need no pride,
You are my joy.
Tell me your problems,
I’ll try ta understand.

by Gandalf and Daniel

I’m just driving,
Driving down the road,
The plan,
My master,
The master plan.

My 454 is revin’
My brain is rage-ing,
Mad,
But, not angry.

Shifting past the shit,
Riding the overdrive,
Wave,
Good-bye.

by Gandalf And Daniel

Now that we are hear,
We might as well take advantage of… this opportunity.

The opportunity to see… hear.

Now that we are here,
With hear… I can see. c c c c

corrugated,
perforated,
saturated,
human waste

corrugated,
perforated,
saturated,
with a bad after-taste

rinse it clean,
rinse it clear,
wring the fear,
from the beautiful scene.

corrugated,
perforated,
striated,
through the prism threw.

glistening dew,
upon you,
like a new born pup,
you’re looking up

From The Conjuring Experiment

You don’t need to,
Share the wealth,
Just as you can’t,
Share good health.

But, you can,
Share your love,
Spread it thick,
Or, spread it thin.

The dead,
Or quick?

Rise above,
Evil kin,
Dance and move,
While you’ve the skin.
Rise above,
The lowly sin,
Flying high,
Again.

Lord, despite my moans,
Thanks for these bones.
These bones gonna rise again.
Lord, despite my wine-in’,
Thanks for this skin.
From a puddle of mud,
My blood,
And, I thank you so.
So, here I go,
Spreading it thick,
While of the quick.

I’ll be your blood vessel… flesh castle,
A Holy Grail set for sail,
Flesh castle,
Blood vessel.

From The Conjuring Experiment

Where ever I roam,
I’m at home.

My body — soul’s house,
At least this life,
No, never alone… in the house of God.

God is good,
God is great,
So, I thank Her….

As part of Her,
Wildlife.

Wild life,
Jig and sing,
Constant fling thing.

“You don’t like the tornadoes?
Stop stirring things up down there,”
God said.

Instead in the stable,
Jig and sing,
Wildlife.

“The loose on the loose,
Ramparts running rampant,”
says Mother Goose.

Mother Nature blows in the wind,
“Naturally, the nature to nurture,
could be nurtured. What a rapture!”

Love life,
Wildlife.

The *please do not refrain from the refrain* refrain:
I’m just a church mouse in God’s house.
Wildlife,
Wild life.

Love life,
Wildlife.

From the Conjuring Experiment

Are we living,
Living in a place,
Where humans,
Aren’t humane,
Where the beings,
Aren’t being,
Very sane?

Oh, no,
A hobo,
Hobo jungle,
My fellow man,
Is more savage,
Than human.

Oh, no,
Hobo,
Woah,
Hobo,
Jungle,
Hobo jungle

The city isn’t savage,
It’s our age,
All over the land,
Can’t understand,
Why the rednecks,
Wreak havoc,
Bully the brains.

Why the fast paced,
Ran, run, raced,
Trampled my face….

Can’t we be the kind,
That can be kind,
No need to remind,
To mind….

Mind my business,
Build a fortress,
Rain distress,
Reign distress,
No, not my mess.

No, I won’t go,
So, far….
As to call it,
A hobo jungle…
More of a bungled,
Humanity.

Are we the animals,
Damning all,
To a hobo jungle,
Just a little respect,
Will fetch,
A civil twilight,
As our day,
Fades to night.

Just a little appreciation,
For the federation,
Of humankind,
Leaving the least,
In the lead,
And, the first,
Behind.

From the Conjuring album I Am (Therefore, I Think) by Daniel

A new project (called Conjuring) making music with songs including Singing To Raise The Spirits, Conjure… Or Sorcery? and The Song.

I thought I would show you what I was talking about,
So, here it is kid….

You don’t want it all,
But, you don’t want it all,
To pass you by,
bye-bye.

Music is not about telling everyone else how you feel.
Music is about helping everyone else feel the way you feel.

Have you no sense of intimacy?

Music is about helping everyone feel what you are saying.

Do you remember when,
You asked me why all the Crayon’s,
In the Crayon box,
Looked the same as you?

After all,
Camouflage is a weird concept in space.

After all,
I’m just a person trying to express myself.
Why would you want to step on that?

Do you ever look outside of your self?
Do you ever look outside yourself?

It’s not that I’m the sickest puppy,
In the litter.

How do I know?
I looked in your blindspot.

What happens when you wait,
Until someone can’t wait,
To go to the bathroom?

Shit happens.

What if there was so much noise,
That nobody could hear my song?

Sometimes noise is a good camouflage.
Sometimes it is not.

I’m not that interested in how you fit into the game…
Rather, that you are a game piece.

Where do all those anarchists go?
That bookstore on South Street?

Oh, yes,
The Wooden Shoe.

Can you tell a Fox,
He swells like his own hole?

Ask Rupert Murdoch.

Have you no sense,
Of intimacy?

It’s funny,
When you try to stop,
A laughing-box from laughing.

Kleenex,
Or, tissue,
Who cares?
Will God bless you?

Doy you,
Yourself,
Know a genius,
When you look one,
In the I?

There are only so many people,
That hold a guitar…
Or, magnifying glass.

Chasing the string of a balloon.

There aren’t that many fish,
That can swim in the sea.
Shall I throw you back?