1. |
Days of the Week
05:31
|
|||
Days of the Week Joe Woodard
You woke up in a sour manner, a touch of evil in the morning air
Confusion breeds contusions, nothing that a day won't cure
I woke up in a suit of armor, I had it marked up on the calendar
Bad Tuesday, your bad news day, tell me when the fury's over
CHORUS:
Why do the days of the week have such control of our lives?
You don't have to speak, before you know which day's arrived
From Monday to Sunday, from fallow to fun day
We're taken for a ride
By the days of the week, those crazy days of the week
They've got us numb and hypnotized
No one is homesteading the future
No one has eyeballs on the great unknown
But days come and weeks go like dizzy dancers, toe-to-toe
We learned the hard way about feelings
They ride the roller coaster day-to-day
Feel this you feel that, they're
Nothing more than feelings that day
BRIDGE:
Hypnotized, no explanations necessary
Mesmerized, life doesn't seem like it's so scary
In your eyes, I see a new tomorrow
A new sunrise just like the old ones that we used to know
copyright 2003, by Joe Woodard
|
||||
2. |
A World Without Polka
03:33
|
|||
A World Without Polka Joe Woodard
There is something so cold and so bleak
About a world without polka
You can keep your cheek-to-cheek
We'll polka 'til the break of day
This world is like a dizzy puzzle
The pieces fit together
On the table, if you're able
Find the logic--that's the polka
There is something so bitter and so sweet
About the world within polka
It's not only music, don't refuse it
Accordions are phones from heaven
Grab your glib and swanky partner
Head down to the Lodge
Where joints are lubed and limbs are loose
That's the high life--that's the polka
BRIDGE
In a world without polka, there's no reason to believe
We're lumbering through mazes, suffering through crazes
In a world without polka, it's a paler shade of white
The scenic routes have all been closed, the beer's out for the night
There is something so tender and dear
About a room chock full of polka
You bind your feet to bouncing beats
Dance your way to polka heaven
|
||||
3. |
Wyatt's Burp
02:41
|
|||
4. |
Puck's Polka
04:51
|
|||
5. |
Moderate Moderation
04:00
|
|||
(Rota-polka style)
Moderate Moderation Joe Woodard
Intro (with whistling, chromatic harmonica, and/or female voice):
E6 / / AbM7 / / F13 / FM7/6 / F6 / F 6 (b9) / F m6 / F m6 (M7) / Ab + / /
E6 / / AbM7 / / F13 / FM7/6 / F6 / F 6 (b9) / F m6 / F m6 (M7) / Ab + / D +
G13 A13
If I could moderate moderation, oh what a blissful thing
D7 Ab 7 (b5)
I’d wear a different outfit daily
B 7 (b9) E 6 Ab M7
I’d know exactly when to grin, and precisely when to flash a scowl
F13 / FM7/6 / F6 / F 6 (b9) / F m6 / F m6 (M7) / Ab + / D +
If I could navigate conversations, and know when the laughter comes
I’d be a happy campout sailing
I’d know exactly how to please, and understand the need to be the one
E (add 9) D 13 B/C# C# 13
I’m looking at the sky, with eyes so tightly closed
F# m9 C 6 + B sus 13 B7
My feet are gripping earth, but floating in my toes
If I could stop trying to remember, and trying to trace my roots
And be the sunshine on my skin
I’d brush away these pallid blues, oh, you can never know the shape I’m in
It’s like I’m doomed to this moderation, a life in the middle zone
I know exactly what I’m not
But don’t expect me to reveal, the inner truth of how I really feel
I’m looking at the sky, with eyes so tightly closed
My feet are gripping earth, but floating in my toes
2-27-02
|
||||
6. |
Of Waltzes
03:20
|
|||
Of Waltzes Joe Woodard
I could write waltzes for you
Until my heart was turning blue
I dream of dancing a roundelay
Spinning 'til the emptiness goes away
I could sing waltzes for you
Until your ears are turning blue
I sold my soul for a song
Now I'm looking just to pass it along
Picturing us in a room
Softly discussing the moon
Matching my east with your west
Putting this thing to the test
I could dance waltzes with you
Until the hour was turning blue
Call me romantic or coy
Just liberate the heart inside this little boy
|
||||
7. |
We're on Another Level
02:18
|
|||
We're On Another Level (Woodard/Smith)
E/G F/G E/G
C6
We're on another level
D-7 G6 E-7 A7
here in our turnip house
D-7 Ab7(b5) G6
we can't be expected
F-7(b5) Bb7 C6
to feel too dejected
E/G F/G E/G
C6
we're on another level
we're in a turnip world
we won't be required
to say we feel tired
E/G F/G E/G
C/Ab
we're on another level
D-7/A G/Bb C/C#
here with our turnip child
D-7/C# D76/C# G6/C#
it got too disturbin'
C#9 Bb7/C C6/C#
to wind up suburban
E/G F/G E/G
C6
we're on another level
D-7 G6 E-7 A7
here in our turnip heads
D-7 Ab7(b5) G6
you can't mention money
F-7(b5) Bb7 C6
it just isn't funny
E/G F/G E/G
it ain't genteel
C6/C#
we're on another level
|
||||
8. |
Turnip of the Year
01:44
|
|||
Turnip of the Year (Woodard/Smith)
Eb6
It's a prize winner
C13
a real prize winner
F#M7(b5) F-7 E7+ F-7 F#M7(b5) F-7//E7+ F-7
our own turnip of the year
Eb6
It's an eye knocker
C13
it's a crowd stunner
F#M7(b5) F-7
it's a humdinger zinger
E7+ F-7
that is clear
E6 D6
give a cheer
B6
It's made our day
A6
it's paid our way
B6
our own baby it's a dear
(sprechstimme) We all did it
and we're proud of it
(melody...) our own turnip of the year
Eb6
It's a prize winner
C13
a surprise bringer
F#M7(b5) F-7 E7+ F-7
a permanent pop-up dinner
Bb6 B6 (meandering, polka-ish, along...)
it's our own turnip of the year
|
||||
9. |
||||
Spencer the Polka Dispenser Joe Woodard
There is a man, does every little thing he can
For a touchy-feely frenzy
He's the nighthawk's pet
He'll take a stand for the rights of party omnivores
He's a warrior of pleasure
He's a gardener of delights
(Polka, polka, polka party poopers)
Are you a man or a marionette?
Life in a puppet state of bliss
In the gospel accordion to the polka party bible
There is a stage, it's full of open microphones
Vienna to Valhalla, the endless beat goes on
This little town could barely keep from blowing up
But the merriment dispensers are keeping up the fight
He's just the boy with the two big heads, painting the town again
In the gospel accordion to the polka party bible
If the squeeze box is too intense
And the tuba's refrain is too insane
Heed the gospel accordion to the polka party bible
|
||||
10. |
Picture of Health
05:37
|
|||
11. |
Divertimental
04:04
|
|||
12. |
Splinkety Polka
03:03
|
|||
(surfing the Cumbia-Bebop wave)
Splinkety Polka Joe Woodard
Pernickety folks and splinkety polka
Live on the other side of town
Swapping their licks in lickety splitsville
Salivaton on the run
Rickety theme parks, hawking their thrills
Selling adrenaline highs
Snicker at danger, snuffing out anger
Singing major scales at night
Down in the underground, underneath the things we know
What is it, “on the town,” when no one’s really running the Show
Bridge:
You never know a tune until you steal it
And then you have to face the music police
They’re listening and on the patrol
Sniffing around the world for larcenous tunes
Alter the melody and shuffle the beat
And still you may be culpable
Until you confess your original sin, until you confess your original sin
Hocketing tunes and pocketing grooves
Sweat ‘n’ sound confectioneers
Splitting the difference of musical inference
With a mind to keep the peace
Doing our time in splinkety polka
Life in another universe
Swapping our riffs in riffety splitsville
Celebration on the run
|
||||
13. |
||||
Here's to the Heimlich Maneuver Joe Woodard
(A Dance Hall Parable)
Let's hoist back a few until we are in view of forever,
Of forever
They say heaven is a place where nothing ever happens
If you're clever, if you're clever
Meanwhile, back here on earth, the hot pursuit of mirth
Is a fever
Desire is a bad and wondrous river
CHORUS
Here's to the arms that give a little squeeze
Here's to the birds that contemplate the breeze
Here's to the mind that takes its own sweet time
Here's to the Heimlich maneuver
We could be dancing along, with spirits in some other dimension
When flesh turns to butter and skeletons are turning into rubber
You're weak at the knees, your sense are seized by a vision
Or is just a mental collision?
CHORUS
BRIDGE
Here's to the arms that give a little squeeze
Here's to the birds that contemplate the breeze
Here's to the mind that takes its own sweet time
Here's to the Heimlich maneuver
Here's to the lips that say "here's to the lips"
Here's to the sight of swaying little hips
Here's to the floor that holds my love-in-store
Here's to the Heimlich maneuver
We could be lost in a song, delivered like a box of silly putty
When the feeling comes on, a tickle in the bones of everybody
The flailing of limbs can make up for your sins, it's a given
Hugging like your life depended on it
CHORUS, OUT…
|
||||
14. |
Bolka
05:50
|
post-Polka Santa Barbara, California
In 2003, the eclectic band Headless Household went deep into the business of polka, as theme, variation, and landing strip. "post-Polka" was an album of songs from the polka end of the the band's large songbook, and one of the more popular of the band's CDs. In 2009, a splinter band called post-Polka was born, focused on Headless polka tunes, old and new, gigging and recording its future. ... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like post-Polka, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp