Fat A Says Her Jazz

I Grieve.

fatjazz — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 07:57:00 +0000

I grieve.
Because I felt.
I grieve.
Because I loved --still.
I grieve.
Because I hoped.
And I grieve.
Because I thought.

So I grieve.

Unable and Disabled

fatjazz — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 08:33:00 +0000

Hello, Stranger.

I hope we've met before. Life is a bit of a challenge these days. I haven't even picked up my Georg for adorable diminished chords lately. Toilet is quite lonely without us on him. I should know: The porcelain has gone cold.

I posted once that people are dispirited for a reason. They're supposed-to-be artists who are supposed to be in full production of their talent, which I suppose should give people a "Whoa", "Wow", and "Bullshit".

I wondered why I am not really trying to suppose these days, only coming to a conclusion that I don't have the time to "smart guess" anymore; that I'm getting all the needed conclusions for the weeks past and coming. I called it "the surplus of saccharine love".

Happiness is not a goal; it's a by-product. That's Eleanor Roosevelt, then Wikipedia complimented: A by-product is a secondary or incidental product deriving from a manufacturing process, a chemical reaction or a biochemical pathway, and is not the primary product or service being produced. A by-product can be useful and marketable, or it can be considered WASTE.

But waste or not, Love has fucked up my ability to be at my bitterest --which I consider a handicap. At some point, I find myself unable and disabled. Maybe that's why Morissette wrote better songs in the 90's.

Until then, Stranger. I am not in hiatus. I'm just trying to live the life of a woman who can't shit golden eggs. But, for the moment... Thank you.

FATJAZZ

Cottage 22

fatjazz — Sun, 18 Apr 2010 11:24:00 +0000

[ U N D E R C O N S T R U C T I O N ]

Bai

fatjazz — Sun, 11 Apr 2010 20:48:00 +0000

He tasted his first beer on her lips.
She let him drink it, bit by bit.

And it was so much better...

Jeepney

fatjazz — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 17:50:00 +0000

[A "Drive" sequel]

What am I to say? (echo)

Take me away in a Jeepney ride... (echo)

Smooth Pavements and a winding road;
It winds until a path that I do not know (whoa)

I don't know where to go (echo)

So, what am I to say? (echo)
Could you take me away in a Jeepney ride? (echo)

Mistitled

fatjazz — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 20:39:00 +0000

(indie psychedelia in piano bits with clean, blues riffs)

What's the color of your lies?
Is it cream, or off --or just dirty white?
What is that you have to hide
with those lies of a million and a nine?

[ U N D E R C O N S T R U C T I O N ]

You ask: What's the color of my lies?
It is green and blue --but, hell, not dirty white.
That is what I have to hide,
with these lies of a million, in denial.

That Mary Jane

fatjazz — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:55:00 +0000

F#m7 - (Unclipped) B7
[Blues Guitar and Bass Riffs, missing Sax Tenor]

that brain-penetrating, Mary Jane...

She makes you speak your mind,
an overstatement.
She takes so much of your time,
but unintended.
She's your uncommon cure for your comical,
common plane.

MISNOMER: that Mary Jane
She can drive ya much
insane in the membrane...
a headache, that Mary Jane;
and a heartache, that Mary Jane.

that brain-penetrating, Mary Jane...

but LET ME TELL YOU:

don't feed her vanity;
no matter how unusual she may seem.
that Mary Jane is vain,
that Mary Jane is vain

THE ILLUSION OF MARY JANE

that brain-penetrating, Mary Jane...

Cunning Mary Jane
Moody Mary Jane
Mean, Machine
- -break- -
That Maria Jane.

Sultry Mary Jane
Tactless Mary Jane
BITTERSWEET,
but she can sweep you off your feet!

Just six feet high...
You said:
"You've learned how to fly..."
I say:
"Land me, slowly now...
I'd like my feet flat back on the ground."

Land me, Mary Jane...
Slowly now, please, Mary Jane...
Slowly now, Mary Jane...

Mary Jane.

...

Superficiality [Final]

fatjazz — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:49:00 +0000

G#m7 - D#m7 - Dm7 - C#m7
(broken chords, abrupt breaks, fast tempo)

Superficiality, ain’t you lovely?
Superficiality, ain’t you funny?

Let me scrape off a bit of your FAUX skin,
to circumvent the inhibition within.
Can’t you see? I’d like to peek
of what you’ve disowned, that beautiful bare skin.

Why can’t you show the madness of it all?
SO BREAK –your imaginary wall!
Why can’t you break that fantasy wall?
And don’t go trickling with your ticklish, fickle wall…

Ain’t it lovely, YOUR superficiality…
Ain’t if funny, YOUR superficiality…
But you’re just laughing, you LOVE this superficiality…
And you think I’m kidding, you LOVE this superficiality…

Oh!

You love every bit of it.

Oh, No!

You love every bit of it…

Oh, No! No!

You love every bit of it…

You love every bit of it..

Mister… Mister Pretender!

Pretender…

*fade out with abrupt halt*

Don't You Love Me For How You Think I Am

fatjazz — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 23:41:00 +0000

Intawn, Dong.

fatjazz — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 00:36:00 +0000

Intawn, Dong...
Ayaw ko ug ib'gi,
kay abi
kahibalo kuno ko
mo gitara, Ki.

Intawn, Dong...
Ayaw sa ko
ug higti'g pisi,
kay di. sa. ko.

magpaHIGOT...