A lot of people have asked questions about the lyrics on the album.  For those interested, I thought I'd give you my take on them.  Of course there are subjective interpretations to the meaning of any song, all of which are equally as valid, I believe, as the composer's original intent.

Arms are Falling (intro)

A lot of truths are simple. They don’t need to be expounded upon.  You only need to REALIZE and FEEL them.

arms are falling down
never be the same
living with the shame
we all fall

love is fading fast
the hurt we do our own
sitting on our throne
so small

love will find a way
it’s sometimes hard to see
it’s there for you and me
it always will

Energy

Some of us live so completely in our own head, we fail to see just how hard we’re actually fucking ourselves.  Some of those people, tragically, live their lives in a constant state of crisis.  This chick is one of them.

energy, buzzing all around the air
see what you want to see, do you care?
tragedy, at your door and on the line
swallow your holiday, you’ll be fine
tell yourself I’ll be fine

mystify, anyone you might embrace
till you can justify your disgrace
live or die, but while you’re hear you might as well
make the best of it, where you dwell
but you live in hell

when you lie
there’s a shadow cast on your torrid heart
you magnify
the length that keeps us all apart

Engage

Different people interpret this song differently.  A few people think it’s a boy and girl thing.  Which is of course a valid interpretation.  In the phrase “I’ll be here” in the chorus, the ‘I’ is not literally me or only just another human entity.  ‘I’ in this case is a metaphor.  The strongest intent I had for the metaphor was to mean that a path to happiness always awaits you, a proper way of thinking; that the helmsman that is your intuition, who knows a deep and unchangeable truth we often neglect to access, is always ready to steer the ship.  What actually inspired the song is a homeless man I became friends with.  He directs a lot of negative energy at himself and others, and it confines his spirit.  I wish him more happiness and less suffering than has been his experience.

if you feel you’ve lost your cause
and all you see is all your flaws
you’re in a broken-down despair
without the strength to fight for air

if sullen thoughts have pinned you down
or if you don a thorny crown
rescind the pattern, lift the weight
there’s no judge to seal your fate

i’ll be here, steady
when you feel ready

should they lie and trump your trust
and you’re trading dirt for dust
kill the stigma, drop the blame
will you profit from your shame?

i’ll be here, steady
when you feel ready

Free Ride

This song is the penultimate song in a rock opera that is far from being finished, if it ever will be.  In the opera, our protagonist is a rebel trying to expose and bring down the totalitarian government he is living under.  His weapon is not a sword or a gun, but the pen and his guitar.  His matériel are his ideas and songs.  The roots for the story are based on a few things: bands that came out of the ‘70s in Africa and Latin America that had themes of liberation and revolution, some political world history, a few dark spots America has had in the history of it’s own governance, and the usual archetypes associated with a dramatic rendering of the elements in this story.  In Free Ride, our protagonist has been captured at last by the guy who is the director of the Ministry of Ideology, a thinktank and military police who operate much like the SS, with the intelligence capabilities of a modern day Mossad.  Our director, smug in the capture of his worst enemy, tries to degrade our hero by telling him that the rebels are failing, and all his efforts have been in vain.  The guitar solo is his declaration of victory.  Then the protagonist speaks to tell the director that he is mistaken, that the rebellion against the government is a war of ideas, not arms.  Being on the wrong side of a humanitarian ideal and part of a regressive political structure, it’s only a matter of time before the regime falls, regardless of who is involved or not.

nobody rides for free
we made sure with the rfid
it doesn’t matter if you cannot see
what we’re doing

your books are just words on a page
not designed to provoke or enrage
the future, it will not be staged
that much differently

and your hopes will lie dead in the sand
with the songs that you wrote for your band
because people just don’t understand
what you’re talking about
yeah, yeah, yeah

(solo)

you’ve got it all wrong
it’s not based on a song
we don’t belong to you
we’re fed up and tired
of filling your purses
you won’t last long anymore

the end is near

Loaded Lovers

There’s so much I can say about this song.  It's better not to.

loaded lovers, gilded age
a quiet search to quell the rage they have
riddled with a moral sense
on a hunt to kill the elephants they’ve raised

magnets pull their energy
their supple selves begin to see outside
floating towards their destiny
of when, and where, and which shall be revealed

and you know it don’t come easy
and you know it don’t come fast

guilty pleasures, bloated pain
a measure of such sad restraint of mind
distracted from their lives’ own work
to help the down, the out, the jerk arise

distance brings a clarity
a vision of what still can be, in time
loaded lovers, gilded age
both of them becoming sage, divine

and you know it don’t come easy
and you know it don’t come fast

stand up, turn around and see
you’re moving away from your destiny
go on, take another chance
I promise you you’re better than your circumstance

Let’s Celebrate Love

If life is a diving pool, you have to stay OPEN and keep getting up on that diving board, no matter what happens.  If you don’t you’re not Really Living.  Fuckin’ celebrate that shit, life!

who would pick up a heart that’s torn into pieces?
you strangled my spirit, yet i still remain
i was in till the final count, and you hastened to reach it
your jabs cut my love, and my soul you did drain

we took off so strong, we soared to the finish
our hope gave us lift, our legs disavowed
came back to the earth and the same city limits
the press of your hand through the crush of the crowd

let’s celebrate love, it is a raft on a river
let’s celebrate love, it is an arrow and a quiver
you gonna jump in with both feet, boy, sooner or later
you can’t celebrate love from a bank on a river

can you think back to when we didn’t count the minutes?
before all the voices of doubt grew so loud
there’s an infinite bridge that time won’t diminish
ash and smoke do become flower and cloud

let’s celebrate love, it is a raft on a river
let’s celebrate love, don’t just stand there and shiver
you gonna jump in with both feet, boy, sooner or later
you can’t celebrate love from a bank on a river

all is forgiven
all is for giving

Foxfire

This one’s about the Iraq war, kids.  The war that was originally called “Operation Infinite Justice” before popular opinion (and belated prudence) caused them to change it.

when your faith becomes absurd
and your lies become the word
everything’s so off the cuff
will it ever be enough?
when our thoughts begin to fray
are you comfortable that way?

why bother to explain
when it goes against the grain?
so you wander through the sand
without regrets, without a plan
when your compass leads astray
do you seek another way?

when your dogs betray your trust
and your silos fill with dust
will you teach us how to pray,
can you make it go away?

there’s no sky

are you comfortable that way?

You and Me

A song about many things.

soon, we can be lovers
soon, we’ll share a laugh
soon, we’ll reveal secrets
draw a nice, warm bath

you’ll promise to love me
you’ll eat from the vine
you turn to the one thing
stripped from your mind

who, who says forever?
who is never off-course?
who could learn from an angel?
and scoff at his boss?

I can’t live for the ages
I must live for now
in a world of rare solace
we’re ripped from the bough

PopPowBam!

There’s this guy who's a misogynist, a hypocrite, a know-it-all, and in general he’s an asshole.  He made it easy to write this tune from start to finish in 15 minutes.

dialectic-skewing, word-war waging
there’s less to you than meets the eye
you’re such a creep and your shit’s so deep
but I have to stop and wonder why

‘cause you’re an alcoholic idiot misogynistic asshole
circular-debating, bullshit-liberating fucking asshole
and if you keep running your diarrhea mouth
you’re gonna get popped in the face!
pop-pow, bam!

nuclear disarming, pesticidal farming
you always know just what to do
always annotating and obfuscating
you’re the third base coach for your lame-ass crew

you do your best to keep us abreast
of the asian sex trade brothel-bangers
but when you grab some tits, or treat girls like shit
it ain’t your fucking doppelganger

‘cause you’re an alcoholic idiot misogynistic asshole
circular-debating, bullshit-liberating fucking asshole
and if you keep running your diarrhea mouth
you’re gonna get popped in the face!
talk shit, get hit
pop-pow, bam!
fuck you!

Ships Lay Ready

A metaphor for the simultaneous enlightenment of all humans!  What a pleasant thought!

in a land where ships lay ready
to fulfill a fated end
asleep in desparate slumber
from which they will ascend

there’s a restlessness abound
you can sense it with your skin
when we realize intention
the countdown will begin

take me on a journey
fly free, see your mind
take me on a journey
we’re free, for all time

where the launching pad receives them
to indemnify the wait
the aperture of eyelids
adjusts to a new state

some will fear and some will envy
the majesty of flight
but if we desire liftoff
the starters will ignite

Renunciation

A great poem I found in the public domain and set to my own melody and music.  Originally was supposed to be sung to the tune of Auld Lang Syne.  Auld Lang Syne itself was a poem set to an old folk tune.  Folk begets folk.  We’re all in this together, people.

when hungry millions are unfed
and the little orphans weep,
i cannot eat in peace my bread,
nor sing my grief to sleep.
when thoughts arising from the heart
are hampered in their flight,
i cannot sit and muse apart
upon a dreamy height.

when craven lies oft seek to blind
the eyes of blazing Truth,
i cannot turn my maddened mind
to songs of love and youth,
nor can i sing in lyric strains
of private, little woes,
when Greed is reaping golden gains
from the bloody seeds it sows.