1. Kenilworth
Sam the Plumber
was a big time wise guy
Who had a store
Right here in my old town
When I was a runt, it was a front
For whatever shit was going down
Oooo… Kenilworth
I’m your prodigal son
Here in Kenilworth
Life goes on and on and on and on
Down my street was a deli
Where the kids would all stop in
To buy a snack
Or cigarettes, or place some bets
You only did that in the back
Between the gardens
Of the Garden State
And the dirty urban sprawl
That’s where I can relate
It was all for one and one for all
“A residential community with industrial strength”
It says on the Boulevard
When industry took a nose dive,
I understand some got hit hard
Here in Kenilworth
The game of football
Is a real important thing
We won the states
A number of times
One of our own
Has a Super Bowl ring
Between the gardens
Of the Garden State
And the dirty urban sprawl
Right off of Exit 138
That’s where I learned
To walk it tall
This was the place I went to school
And met my friends
And got my first real job
Under the shadow of Reagan,
The Pope, And Vince Lombardi
And the mob
When my dad was sick and dying
The town stepped up
And after all these years
Through all the pain the bonds remain
It made my eyes fill up with tears
2. The Maverick
Well you never forget
Your very first set of wheels
And you never forget
The way that freedom feels
My Uncle Joe Lord bless his soul
Gave an old used car to me
It was a 4 door Maverick
A genuine relic from 1973
It had a strange odor
But it had a great motor
An old Ford 302
And that’s all you need
When you’re into speed
And a little bit of mischief too
It was yellow and brown
And as I drove it through town
Everybody knew it was me
You could hear that engine 1 mile away
And the speakers from 2 to 3
Whoa the Maverick had soul
And on the stereo
I only played Rock and Roll
Go you Maverick Go
It wasn’t as cool as Duke’s Firebird
Or Russo’s convertible Stang
And Bud’s Camarro was way too narrow
And we just couldn’t fit the gang
But that maverick
Had a couple of tricks up its sleeve
And no one tried to compete
I could leave the ground
Jumping the railroad mound
Doing 100 mph down 14th Street
Basil had an AMC Matador
That we called “The Mastodon”
That thing was so prehistoric
It made its own oil
You couldn’t kill it with an elephant gun
Demolition duel one day after school
I put a nice big dent in his door
So he kicked his pedal
It was so “heavy metal”
They don’t build them like that no more
“Darkness on the Edge” was my go-to tape
When the world just didn’t seem right
I had Who and Stones, Clash, Ramones
And the murmur of Michael Stipe
When I destroyed my knees
And my football dreams
That car was my wheelchair
Sometimes when home
Didn’t feel like one
The Mav was always there
One night I was driving
Through Echo lake park
And what should my eyes behold
It was 5 cheerleaders
Stumbling home from a party
And the night was getting cold
Well it was a tight squeeze
But I fit them all in
And to show their gratitude
I got a kiss on the cheek
One gave me a peek
And the others said,
“Thank you dude”
It’s the present day, I got bills to pay
And it’s no more fun to drive
But I keep that stereo pumping
Pumping to remind me
That I’m still alive
I tried Nissan, Pontiac, Dodge and Lincoln, Mazda and Chevrolet
But it’s something about
Your very first car
That blows them all away
3. Everytown
A toothless casualty of drink and drug
A hard working daddy with a frosty mug
A nameless loner with an icy stare
A cozy little bar they all can share
Everytown has one
The politician with roots and ties
The creepy old teacher with roving eyes
The glorified outlaw with a wink and nod
And a nice little church
where they worship God
A garbage dump to take the trash
An ATM to zap some cash
A builder trying to fit more homes
Encroaching on the graveyard stones
The athletic field where stars are born
And others get their tendons torn
The playground where you learn the facts
The right and wrong side of the tracks
The crossroads where some deals go down
In the darkest part of Everytown
The jailhouse where men hold the key
For other men to be set free
4. Tin Kettle Hill
Tin kettle Hill
Has been torn down
And they used the dirt
For the railroad mounds
In the year 1903
Now it’s just another part of history
George Washington
Had used that site
As a beacon
In the great big fight
That freed our land from tyranny
Now it’s just another part of history
If that hill were standing still
I’d like to climb the summit
And wake up every patriot
When I fire my cannon from it
Before the white man came around
This land was used as hunting ground
For the noble tribe of Lenepe
Now they’re just another part of history
The first chief justice named John Jay
Lived on this land but he did not stay
A treaty to negotiate
Then he freed the slaves
Of New York State
By the time they tore Tin Kettle down
This place became a modern town
Great Grandma sailed from Napoli
To meet the Statue of Liberty
Now there’s no more farms or factories
No more Redcoats, No more Lenapes
Just like them we’ll all soon be
Just another part of history.
5. Stories
One day the tax collector
Stormed Town Hall
To kill the mayor
The borough clerk and all
Stories my Grandma never told me
About this town
One day they found a body
On my block
The guy who did it
“Dropped a dime” and walked
Now I don’t want to give the wrong impression or anything. It wasn’t all like that. In fact, it was a great place to live. But my grandma…she preferred to tell stories about how they survived the Great Depression…and the heroic exploits of a grandfather I never knew.
But sometimes you have to drag the ugly stuff out of the closet and take a good hard look at it…to get the big picture…that’s all.
My aunt had a son
That went to fight the war
And she never heard or saw
Or spoke of him no more
Jim Doolittle
Crashed his plane right here in ‘29
Later on (He flew) over Tokyo
To avenge their crimes
6. The Malocchio* (Ballad of the 12th Street Gang)
They boarded up the social club
The neighborhood was buzzing like a hive
Charlie went there earlier
And that’s the last time we saw him alive
Angelo and Sweaty Mo
Were in a stolen car
The state police were waiting
So they didn’t get too far
They were made in America
Talking ‘bout the 12th Street gang
Theresa had a lazy eye
Some people thought
That she was deaf and dumb
And when her eye met Angelo’s
She learned to use her body and a gun
She was baptized in a local church
Of a saint that shared her name
The angels said “To hell with you!”
Her eye replied the same
She was made in America
Talking ‘bout the 12th Street gang
Sweaty Mo was semi-slow
But built just like a big old Army tank
They say he got his nickname
On the day he pulled his first job at a bank
He was tense and he was nervous
But he made off with the loot
All the tellers could recall
Were sweat stains on his suit
He was made in America
Talking ‘bout the 12th Street gang
Angelo was ruthless
He grew up poor and finally made his bones
Disposing of some witness
And soon the police were tapping all his phones
But he played it smart
He played it safe
He rose up in the ranks
He branched out into businesses
Much worse than robbing banks
He was made in America
Talking ‘bout the 12th Street gang
Mo was ever loyal
Obeying all of Angelo’s commands
Unlike our sweet Theresa
Who often felt the backsides of his hands
Still she made mean lasagna
And she sometimes cut his hair
But wheels and gears were turning
There behind her wicked stare
She was made in America
Talking ‘bout the 12th Street gang
Charlie was an up-and-comer
Someone saw him stroke Theresa’s face
So Angelo called Sweaty Mo
And told his friend to put Chuck in his place
But little did they know
There was a little more involved
It didn’t take too long
For the murder to be solved
It was done in America
Committed by the 12th street gang
Now after the arrest was made
It obvious somebody’s palm got greased
Still it’s going to take some years
Before Mo and his boss will be released
And Theresa couldn’t wait around
She had plans of her own
To rebuild her broken family
I ain’t talking ‘bout her home
She was made in America
Talking ‘bout the 12th Street gang
Mo’s dirty orange jumpsuit
Was dripping sweat
Down on the bunk below
Where Angelo daydreamed about
The day when he would finally murder Mo
And Theresa always beats the rap
The courts they try and fail
And if looks can kill
Then Angelo is better off in jail
They were made in America
Talking ‘bout the 12th street gang
And they call her “The Malocchio”
Looking out
For the 12th Street gang
*Malocchio = “evil eye” in Italian
7. BOOMTOWN
From Columbia Ave and Coolidge Drive
To the spaghetti streets between
There are barriers on the Cranford side
Now I know what they mean…
In ’39 a housing boom
Began to fill the land
The micks and wops pulled out the stops
And bought homes for about 2 grand
The Cranford folk got really mad
And to keep the riff raff slowed
All except for Orange Ave.
They simply blocked the roads
Boom Boom Boom
When you hear that boom
You’ll know that something’s strange
Boom Boom Boom
When you hear that boom
You know something will change
Now meanwhile on the Northern side
Papa Chupey built our home
Before I lived he up and died
And now he lives in wood and stone
And he lives in all the memories
Of those that knew his part
His shoulders wide
His stubborn pride
And his great big beating heart
These days on the boulevard
It’s like a damn highway
And every single big backyard
Is being sold away
They’ll put a house just where it fits
It’s getting hard to breathe
My old house sits just where it sits
And my mom will never leave
8. Answers
There are no answers in the past
Only reasons
Moments don’t repeat
Only seasons
There are no answers in the past
Only reasons
Yesterday was warm,
Today I’m freezin’
You can go back to some favorite year
Only in your mind
You can go back to some old place
From once upon a time
And you can go back through your old papers
And all the things you wrote
You can call up some old acquaintance
With a lump stuck in your throat
9. The Steps of St. Theresa’s
Sergeant Chuppie was the best friend that you ever could have
He brought all the lost souls
Down to Washington Ave
Selfless he was,
he gave all he could give
A saint to us all
Like Assisi he lived
Then there was Gail, a cripple for sure
Walked all the children
And held every door
She protected the kids on their way home from school
With her crooked grin
She was nobody’s fool
The steps of St. Theresa’s
They carry you up,
and they carry you down
I hear it’s the home of Jesus
A guy that sure gets around
I recall Louie Woods,
Now some called him slow
Never had an enemy
a fight or a foe
Without pay, he’d lend you a hand
He’d fix up your house
And clean all your land
Then there was Archie,
to fight was his game
He defended the sick
The weak and the lame
He’d stood for the sad,
The meek and the poor
I saw him leaving through
That Church’s door
Perperas loved every child she taught
For three generations
Not a lesson for naught
As tiny as those she helped to ties shoes
Was stern and was fair
Showed us love we could use
Big ol’ Sam was a man among men
Sometimes treated badly
For the color of his skin
But Sikes was a giant,
his heart made of steal
For the hungry and sick
He would give up his meal
This town had its share of good deeds done right
Folks shared the joy
And folks shared the plight
Some of these folks I never did meet
But I hear they now sleep
Down on Washington Street
10. Blackout ‘77
77 was my football number
In that crazy year
I was only ten years old
Getting strong and facing fear
Elvis Presley passed away
My parents were in disbelief
I saw my father cry that day
I saw a nation filled with grief
Blackout ‘77
Just another part of history
Blackout ‘77
It was no blackout to me
I found a Newsweek magazine
Talking about this thing called “punk”
I thought it was a real cool scene
My dad just frowned and then got drunk
Disco sucked and Rock was great
I stayed up late for SNL
Carter was the head of state
The country wasn’t doing well
That was the summer
Our house got robbed
The word “pig’ on our wall
Just made me ill
My dad was a cop
That was his job
He went out that night
With the intent to kill
The Son Sam was on the loose
Not too far from my hometown
Con Edison had lost the juice
It seemed as if the world shut down
Blackout!
11. Meltdown
One day a local cop was said to fall
He lost his job from drinking alcohol
Stories I never want to tell my kids
About this town
One day he finally got his life on track
Redemption was won
By never looking back
Stories I’m gonna have to tell my kids
About this town
Well, that’s enough of nostalgia
That’s enough of pining
For the good old days
Cause what is best
And what is good
Is just another passing phase
Oooo…Kenilworth
I’m your prodigal son
Here in Kenilworth
Life goes on and on
And on and on and on
If that hill was standing still
I’d like to climb the summit
And wake up every one of you
When I fire my canon (cannon) from it.
There are no answers in the pastOnly reasons.
OVERFLOW – SONGS FROM 2007 NOT YET ASSIGNED TO AN ALBUM
CAIRO (BY A. Wright)
Running through the desert
I got 10 more miles to go
Kicking up the red dirt
I got 9 more miles to go
To a place that’s shady
I got 8 more miles to go
I wanna find my lady
I got 7 miles to go
I’m getting closer to the sun
Closer to the sun
Why oh why did I have to go
To Cairo?
The god of war – his face I seen
With 6 more miles to go
I killed a man for his canteen
With 5 more miles to go
Thank Allah and Jehovah
I got 4 more miles to go
This trip is almost over
I got 3 more miles to go
Chorus
There’s a gleam on the horizon
I got 2 more miles to go
The pyramids are risin’
I got one more mile to go
Now desert don’t you slay me
I got half a mile to go
Alas my eyes betray me
I got 10 more miles to go
Chorus
Now I won’t see you later
I got no more miles to go
My ship is in a crater
I got no more miles to go
Closer to the sun is she
No more miles to go
A world away – just Mars and me
No more miles to go
I’m getting farther from the sun
Farther from the sun
Why oh why did I have to go
To Cairo?
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SUMMER SONG
(By A. Wright)
There’s a song nobody knows
I still remember how it goes
It was the best song Manny wrote
But the record company wouldn’t promote it
Should have been a single
Should have been released in the summertime
When the album got released
Some critic said it was a masterpiece
But the public couldn’t give a shit
They never heard the song that should have been a hit
Chorus
Sun! Fun! Everyone!
Beach party has just begun
The grills are smoking and the beer will flow
Let’s see what’s cooking on the radio
On the radio
Well Manny isn’t hard to find
He’s on the beach most all the time
He might be what you’d call a bum
Cause he never had his moment in the sun
Chorus
Sha la la la la la- LA LA LA LA!
PICK IT UP
(By A. Wright)
Well I’ve seen a lot of garbadge
And I’ve seen a lot of trash
And I’ve seen a lot of wasted time
And a lot of wasted cash
And I’ve seen a little bit of dirt
On everybody’s feet
And I’ve seen some really useless junk
Cluttering up my street
Pick it up, pick it up baby, PICK IT UP
I’ve seen some evidence of truth
I’ve seen some solid clues
And I’ve seen them lying all around
Like pairs of worn out shoes
I’ve seen some opportunitites
Slip through a million hands
And I’ve seen a little seed of hope
In some cold and barren lands
Pick it up, pick it up baby, PICK IT UP
There’s a broadcast on the air
Coming in from who knows where
And if you just adjust your ear
There’s a chance that you might hear it
Is it coming in?
Pick it up, pick it up baby, PICK IT UP
Now if you’re walking down the street
With worry on your soul
And you see something shining
On the sidewalk or in a hole
Well you better not ignore it
And you best not be a fool
So it might be a piece of glass
But it might be a jewel
Pick it up, pick it up baby, PICK IT UP
RUNNING THE GAME (by A. Wright)
They tread on the humble and gentle
They discard the sick and the lame
They’re overrunning the temple
The ones who are running the game
Exploiting your fear and your weakness
They’ll turn all your pride into shame
They’re filling this world with a bleakness
The ones who are running the game
They’ll slice up the fruit of your labor
For shortage they’ll give you the blame
You better not rattle the sabre
Of The ones who are running the game
Work hard for what they will give you
It does not good to complain
Your life and your home are only on loan
From The ones who are running the game
They’ll force you to buy their insurance
But just try to file a claim
They’ll wear out your will and endurance
The ones who are running the game
They’ll con you with convenience
To shorten the length of your chain
Well never expect any lenience
From The ones who are running the game
Slavery’s never abolished
As long as there’s something to gain
It’s dirty old face has been polished
By The ones who are running the game
They speak of morals and virtue
Then send armies to kill and to maim
Try to speak out and they’ll hurt you
The ones who are running the game
They summon the words of some savior
Use fire and brimstone to tame
What god would condone such behavior?
Like The ones who are running the game
Deep in the heart of the furnace
Deep in the blue of the flame
Is there something waiting to burn us?
Or The ones who are running the game
Well I hope you grow strong and proud now
And I hope that you step on that rung
And I hope that you will start climbing
One day while you are still young
And I hope that one day you meet them
And one day they will know your name
Pray tell would you join them or beat them?
The ones who are running the game
NURSING HOME BLUES (by A. Wright)
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
Can’t stay here today
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
Can’t stay here today
Today I am drowning
In my own misery
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
Now don’t you go and worry ‘bout me
Whoa…down your hallway babe
I hear howls of pain
Down your hallway babe
I hear howls of pain
I’ve got to get going
Looks like rain
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
But every day is just the same
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
Take your medicine pill
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
Take your medicine pill
I’ll look after the family
We’ll take care of the bill
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
I swear to God I will
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
Can’t see you this way
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
I can’t see you this way
Do you know what I’m saying?
Do you want me to stay?
I’ll see you tomorrow babe
Or maybe some other day.
Don’t Strain Yourself
(By A. Wright)
Nobody mourns the bill of rights
Nobody wants to sacrifice
Nobody wants to change their vote
Nobody wants to rock the boat
Don’t strain yourself
I wouldn’t want you to get hurt
Don’t strain yourself
And you’ll get what you deserve
Nobody wants to call the bluff
Nobody seems to have enough
Nobody wants to make a stand
Nobody wants to free this land
Don’t strain yourself
I wouldn’t want you to get hurt
Don’t strain yourself
And you’ll get what you deserve
My country ‘tis of thee
Sweet land of liberty
From sea to shining sea
We take it all so leisurely
Nobody wants to sweat and toil
Nobody’s gonna give up oil
Nobody’s gonna budget ‘til
Nobody wants a dollar bill
Don’t strain yourself
I wouldn’t want you to get hurt
Don’t strain yourself
And you’ll get what you deserve
