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We Deserve Better Than This
Wallflowers
The Unbelievers
Deliver Me
Mary Ann
Without a Girl
Sleeping In
What If What I Want Is Not Enough
Mickey Mantle
It Could Happen Today

Handwritten Lyrics and Notes

all songs by Tom Flannery
copyright 2011
recorded January 31, February 1,2 2011

**************************************************

Over the last year I wrote one batch of songs and then decided to put them aside. I was too close to them. So I tried to keep my distance by writing simple pop songs. Scribbled out the lyrics in a notebook and searched for melodies.

The only problem was that I didn’t record them like pop songs, so they sound kinda sad and folkie. If I recorded them on 3 different days they might have sounded like the Ramones. When recording alone it’s all about the mood you’re in when you’re in front of the mic. Plus it’s hard to sound like the Ramones when all you have is an acoustic guitar and everyone in the house is trying to sleep.

So “Edward” is the result. I hope you like the songs. I had a lot of fun banging them out. And they’re free. Whadda you got to lose?

–Tom Flannery
February 3, 2011

Will not leave the house until I learn how to play the piano well enough to sit down and write a song. Getting there.

In a bit…

–tf

We interrupt our regular programming to inform you that I am now learning how the play the piano.

Not by the book mind you….but I’m bashing away on the white keys so far and pulling out things approaching melodies. I really want to use the piano for songwriting. ‘Tis a very expressive instrument.

Stay tuned.

In a bit….

–tf

I’m not that quick to jump on the “hate speech” bandwagon. Let’s face it. If a guy can be talked into shooting someone by listening to Glen Beck or Rush Limbaugh on the radio, it’s a good bet he’s pretty far gone already. Folks who listen to talk radio of any sort are defective enough to start with. The last thing they require is a push off the ledge.

I do feel a bit of a twinge that it’s perfectly legal in Arizona for a diagnosed mental defective to walk into a store and walk out with a Glock 19…..but at least I’m 2,386 miles away from Tucson. I like to look at the bright side. However, Glock sales have surged since the shooting, coincidentally, which probably says more about where we are as a nation than all the rest of this story combined.

We’re pretty fucked, basically. Mired in a pile of shit. That’s what it says. But while rationality may have left the building, Elvis never truly died….so he’ll be back and the old biddies will be tossing underwear at him again in no time. You know that sentence makes perfect sense so there’s no need to read it again.

I used to dive headfirst into political debates but no more. Political bloviatiers are even worse than the politicians they bloviate about. I’ve got my own views, and even if I’m force-fed Fox News intravenously I’m not going to change them. I consider myself reasonably intelligent. I am reasonably educated. I can read (half the adults in this country are illiterate, so reading is not something I take for granted) and I like to think I’m sorta open-minded. I believe in what I can see with my own eyes. I think if somebody falls down you should help them up. If you help somebody up and then they steal your wallet that’s kinda bad form but I think these assholes are pretty rare. It’s been my experience that people needing the most help are often the most helpful. The reverse also seems to hold true, which can really piss a fella off.

Who knows why folks feel like they do? I’m a liberal not afraid to use the word liberal, but I might feel differently about, say, immigration if armed mexican drug smugglers were using my back-yard as a hostel. I might feel differently about guns too. It’s easy to be enlightened when you’re not personally affected, which is why we should always be suspicious of guys who never fought in wars starting them.

No House or Senate member or major political pundit on either side of the aisle is in danger of missing a meal, or of having to choose between that meal or health care for their child. So there’s not a credibility “gap” so much as a credibility chasm. Being lectured at is annoying enough. Being lectured at by a guy making 6 or 7 figures is unbearable. So beware of the screeching head that demonizes those who just happen to be in a way lower tax-bracket. It’s not a crime to be poor in this country, although if Reagan had a third term….

See, I caught myself. If I can do this, surely everybody can.

In a bit…

–tf

Everyday I’m getting ideas. Everynight I sit with a light barely strong enough to illuminate my pen and I try to get the ideas down in one of those marble-covered notebooks that have replaced legal-pads in my world…legal pads having replaced the computer…..which I divorced after realizing that paper doesn’t crash and get lost for no apparent reason.

Someday when it’s not so much fun writing them I gotta record some of this stuff. Pop songs. I want to write the perfect one. Well, the perfect one has already been written (Noel Gallagher’s “Wonderwall”), so I’d settle for the runner-up spot. That might be worth some cash actually.

In a bit…

–tf

I’ve written a lot of songs over the years. Some fall away for ages and I’m nudged back to them periodically. Such is my song “The Indianapolis”, which I wrote back in 2004.

Like most I learned of the story from Quint’s monologue in the movie “Jaws”. To me it remains the greatest monologue in movie history (I’ve since learned that it played a bit loosely with the facts, but at its core the horror was well conveyed).

But there was so much more. I studied. I read (I recommend In Harm’s Way by Doug Stanton). I questioned. I learned the shameful secrets. And in a white-hot fever I sat down and wrote the song in one sitting.

It was soon picked up by a wonderful woman named Kim Nielsen, who organizes reunions for the Indianapolis survivors across the country. She’s also put together a presentation for schools, churches, and civic groups…teaching new generations about one of WWII’s blackest holes. She heard the song and asked if she could use it to make a video montage as part of her program. I was honored.

I bring this up now because there was recently a “Jaws Marathon” on TV, and it’s a movie I can’t help but watch no matter the time, which is why I find myself extremely sleep deprived at the moment, as I’ve stayed up into the wee wee hours the past two nights….watching it 3 times.

And now I find myself revisiting a song I’ve always been very proud of….

The Indianapolis
by Tom Flannery
copyright 2004

Who on earth knows why
some men live and some men die
he was a better man than I
or would have been…we were boys
We were nearly twelve hundred souls
watching how war takes it’s toll
it hates to watch the young grow old
it seeks and destroys

To Tinian we were bound
to deliver the end from above the ground
never knew a thing never heard a sound
get her there on time
then we pushed for more
and torpedoes from the ocean floor
cut us in two with a mighty roar
in war nothing’s a crime

captain said “boys we gotta go”
900 jumped into the water below
those that could not see still could hear
when the Indianapolis….she disappeared

We thought they’d come when the sun it rose
but the sharks they gathered and the world it froze
10 footers from the tail to the nose
well this was not war
Some boys thrashed and some lay prone
some were bit in half some left alone
all we had to give was flesh and bone
tell me what are you fighting for?

For 4 days we died
some floated away when the night flew by
others with madness in their eye
I can still hear the sounds
calls for loved ones in the air
and whoops for things that just weren’t there
the chattering teeth and the Lord’s prayer
with the devil all around

That PV-1 finally came
called the PBY and the ships the same
you learn about luck in war
’cause we weren’t exactly what they were looking for

317 survived
so there’s that many men asking why
how do I live when I’ve watched men die?
where did they all go?
you may seek to blame
state your case…make your claim
stick your goddamn brass up in a frame
because you’ll never know

Now I’m an old man
still never got further than the sand
dreams can bring me back and force my hand
like it was yesterday
Put a seashell to my ear
grandson says “pappa what do you hear?”
I’ll turn so he can’t see the tear
someone tell me what to say

captain said “boys we gotta go”
900 jumped into the water below
317 survived
so there’s that many men asking why

Who on earth knows why
some men live and some men die
he was a better man than I
or would have been…we were boys

Santa bought me a flip video for Xmas, and this is my first clumsy attempt at using it. A brand new song called “Wallflowers” recorded in the bunker. I am of course wearing my lucky hat.

Well, all sorts of things. Regrets mostly. Pretty much a wasted year musically. Wrote about a dozen songs, but didn’t take a serious stab at recording any of them. Gave some away. Threw some away. Some are keepers, but to let them go felt wrong. Bad timing….perhaps because they drew on some bad times. Guitar sat in the corner much of the year, dusted off for one-off gigs here and there and then put right back. Absolutely no momentum was generated. My father’s passing early in the year really knocked the stuffing out of me. Writing didn’t make me feel good. It made me feel sad.

Watching Alzheimer’s disease crawl all over someone is a dreadful sight. There’s nothing spiritual or uplifting about “the fight”. The ending is pre-ordained. There are no survivors. There’s no redemption. It’s cruel and unusual punishment doled out to folks who don’t deserve it. The randomness of misplaced brain wires.

Ironically, all we have left is memories, the very things the disease stole from my father. This can surely turn one cynical, especially one prone to cynicism under blue skies. And so yes, I allowed anger to get the best of me and turned it inward, intentionally not doing what I love to do best to spite something or someone that I don’t even believe in.

But enough is enough. It’s Christmas time. My girls are bouncing around the house like they’re on invisible pogo-sticks, happy and healthy and counting down the minutes until they get to dive into the pile on Saturday morning. Advance word from Santa is that they’ve been pretty good. He’s been mum on me.

I’m currently writing new lyrics like crazy. Keeping up on my blog with Mike Stevens, and have sketched out a new play. I’m hoping 2011 brings no more regrets, a tunnel-full of words, and maybe a few good songs that’ll earn me a billion dollars. I promise I’ll give away half.

In a bit..

–tf

Was going to record a really personal new batch of songs I have….but something is holding me back. I’ve decided to go back to the notebook and write more. Wrote one last night I like a lot (at least for now) called “Wallflowers”.

Who would have guessed who would have known / Friday nights on the telephone

I want to create something accessible. I want to explore things that might mean as much to you as they do to me.

In a bit..

–tf

Woke up this morning with an itch that I couldn’t reach. So I wrote and recorded this song…

We Deserve Better Than This  Wanna see if I can still make you smile
see if maybe we can rest awhile
head down to the lawer’s to deface our wills
share a 6-pack and a sleeping pill
cause we deserve better
we deserve better than this

Nine to five on an assembly line
if it weren’t for nickels we wouldn’t have a dime
love ain’t enough to keep you warm
when the furnace blows in a winter storm
cause we deserve better
we deserve better than this

How many years we count the days
how many friends lost along the way
how many lies underneath the bed
how many slaps upside the head
cause we deserve better
we deserve better than this

They say you get dealt a hand
and it you play it the best you can
well that SOB’s dealing from the bottom of the deck
I’m gonna find his ass I’m gonna break his neck
cause we deserve better
we deserve better than this

My clothes don’t fit me anymore
so I’m wearing what my old man wore
tax refund gone missing my hair gone gray
one of us should leave but we’ll both stay
cause we deserve better
we deserve better than this

Wanna see if I can still make you smile
see if maybe we can rest awhile
head down to the lawer’s to deface our wills
share a 6-pack and a sleeping pill
cause we deserve better
we deserve better than this