I Haven't Wasted All This Time Alone

 

About the songs...

Take a Bullet for My Baby

A gallant gang member, probably doesn't expect to live past 21...this is the heroic death he imagines for himself

My Mom is Crazy

Of course we know who's really crazy here...and no, it's not about my mother, who is no thug and is actually very nice

A Walking Nerve Ending

A resident of a city that's either recovering from or expecting a major disaster, or both...a never ending by trade, and now the world's made for him

Everyone's Going Away

From Christmastime '01, with the dust of the dead in the air, etc.

Caretaker

House sitter / handyman in love with weekender...has grown to love the off-season

Invisible

Sometimes a lonely feeling but let's hope it fades into selflessness, as in "you're invisible now, you've got no secrets to conceal"

Help Me Put Some Meat on These Bones

This person is either starving or lonely or looking for a band, or possibly all three...is there any such thing as a "minor humanitarian disaster"

Moods of Extreme Desire

The title is stolen from Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, a compilation by Paul Reps.  The original sentence goes "In moods of extreme desire, be undisturbed."  I figured there were too many things that could follow that phrase, and gave it a shot

The Great Fire of Mr. Smithton

I can imagine a choir of angels on this one, to add a little grandeur...I hear you can actually live like this all the time

Architect of Open Spaces

This record maybe should've been call The Responsible Party...the space you're facing is yours to fill

The Narrator

A listener on garageband.com said this was a political warning and another called it an indictment of the media...no mentioned the voice in my head, to whom I dedicate this song

Infirmary Ball

Yet another marriage of Love and Death...what God has joined let no one pull apart (we'll go into this later)

Call It Even

A truce without the negotiation...really a song of unbounded friendliness...the music industry is all in your mind, and you're out of your mind

Speeches at My Wake

Waiting for the last minute, or beyond, to speak one's peace...it started as 'speeches at my funeral' but 'wake' rhymed with 'cake,' which I never pass up