Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

I was having a bowl of cereal and thought about when, as a kid, my mom would occasionally get alphabet soup. In that moment, I got the idea for this song, in which the letters floating in the alphabet soup stand for people and their relationships.

Lyrics

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ALPHABET SOUP LOVE Michael Dyer © 2007 In my alphabet soup, the letter "I" is a distant sigh from the letter "U". Oh my, and when the "X" appears, It's so complex; so hard to untie. The letter "A" started our craze, in so many ways, But letter "Z" has overtaken me, and when letter "Y gives no reply, I wanna die. When letter "Q" questions the "U" about cheating with "H", "I", "M", There's nothing to do. What came to be of the letters: "L", "O", "V", "E"? What came to be, of the letters: "L", "O", "V", "E", "R", "S"? Who can guess? They can't be found, even by the shivering "C". Can't be found, even by the drifting "D". On the road, when there's a "T", You gotta choose; you just can't snooze. And when you see "N" next to "O", then you know, You've gotta go, 'Cause the "B" in "L", "O", "V", "E" is gone. 'Cause the "B" in "L", "O", "V", "E" is Gone. What R we but letters, floating in a soup? That twist and swirl, splash and loop, Back on ourselves, Then back on our shelves. What came to be of the letters: "L", "O", "V", "E"? What came to B, among the As and Zs, of the letters: "L", "O", "V" ...
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

One evening I was waiting to pick up my daughter, who was arriving by train at night. As I walked around the parking lot, under lamp light, I saw trails and trails made of thin, glimmering, translucent ooze, from hundreds of snails that were out and about, doing something mysterious (what, I know not). The lyrics in the song, "when moonlight snails leave gossamer trails," was inspired by witnessing this beautiful midnight sight. The song theme came about as the result of thinking about the vastness of the universe and the Greek myth of how Orpheus pursued Eurydice even past death and into the underworld. I also really like the sound of the Irish Bouzouki so I used its sound as a lead instrument on this track, which I think plays well against the electric guitar as a second lead instrument. (I don’t actually own an Irish Bouzouki, so I played keyboard with a synthesized bouzouki sound. The bending of the notes is made by how hard keys get hit so I had to really pound on the keyboard in some places in order to get the right, bouzouki-style sound.)

Lyrics

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DOESN'T MATTER Michael Dyer © 2007 Across the vastness of space and time, Before the Big Bang and reason or rhyme. I'm the one who was foretold. I'm the one meant for your soul. It doesn't matter if you're young or old. Doesn't matter if you're timid or bold. Doesn't matter who's behind or ahead. Doesn't even matter if you're living or dead! 'Cause I'm coming for your love. And we'll join below to above. When dark doors need metal bars. When black holes eat molten stars. When deep whales slip past hovering sails, And moonlight snails leave gossamer trails. It doesn't matter who got less or got more. Doesn't matter if you're a saint or a whore. Doesn't matter if you're crippled or well. Doesn't even matter if you're in heaven or hell! 'Cause I'm coming to inhale, the loving you exhale. They say the void will always be, and consume all galaxies. But our love's reality will exist for eternity. It doesn't matter if you're young or old. Doesn't matter if you're tin or gold. Doesn't matter who's behind or ahead. Doesn't even matter if you're living or dead! 'Cause I'm coming for your love. And we'll join below to above. Across the eons of hopes and fears, Across the eons of joys and tears, Our union was foretold. Our bodies merge; become one soul. So it doesn't matter who got less or got more. Doesn't matter if you're a saint or a whore. Doesn't matter if you're crippled or well. Doesn't even matter if you're in heaven or hell! 'Cause I'm coming to inhale, the loving you exhale.
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

This song was inspired by the fact that "wreck" can be both a state and an action and that you can be wrecked (due to being in love) and also be causing your relationship to become wrecked. It's a light-hearted song and I enjoyed finding odd rhymes for it ("reckon" with "neck in" and "beckon"; "soakin" with "awoken").

Lyrics

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WRECK IN LOVE WRECKIN' LOVE Michael Dyer © 2007 Has your lover, you forsaken? All your best been taken? Have curses, now been spoken? Hearts in pieces, all broken? You stuck your neck in when love did beckon. "Way too late!" Oh, now you reckon. You can't just check out, but just can't check in, when you're ... Wreckin' love, train-wreckin' love, plane-wreckin' love, insane wreckin' love. A Wreck in love, train wreck in love, plane wreck in love, insane wreck in love. All your trust, now eroded, as the lies all exploded. Your love, so devoted, Now just so imploded. You stuck your neck in when love did beckon. But thinking now "Just wait a second!" You can't just check out, but just can't check in, 'cause you're ... Wreckin' love, train-wreckin' love, plane-wreckin' love, insane wreckin' love. A wreck in love, train wreck in love, plane wreck in love, insane wreck in love. Do you feel, just awoken, to a nightmare, clothes all soakin'? Gasping, gagging, weezing, choking, Sobbing, dying, but sighing and hoping? You stuck your neck in when love did beckon. Took the bait and now you reckon, You can't just check out, but just can't check in, 'cause you're ... Wreckin' love, "What-the-heck?!" in love, up-to-your-neck in love, a wreck in love, Wreckin' love, "What-the-heck?!" in love, up-to-your-neck in love, a wreck in love. Love, wreckin' love, Wreck in love, wreckin' love.
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

This song was inspired by a picking pattern that is intricate, because embedded in the pattern one plays the same note 4-times very quickly (what I call a "tetra grace note" sequence). The song refers to life being both complicated and intricate, just like the syncopated grace notes that are slipped in throughout the song. The extremely high notes that you will also hear are played beyond the frets of an electric guitar, using a bottleneck.

Lyrics

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COMPLI-INTRICATED LIFE Michael Dyer © 2007 Lately, my life has gotten so compli-intricated, Even this song, now grace-note intra-syncopated. My obsessive mind is just so compuls-inebriated, Even my dreams are roco-co-llated. A playing mannequin, incarcerated by my sins. Can I extricate my soul from this excavated hole? Sinkin' more each day and date. Maybe that’s just my fate. To be inhalated, sedated, and then too late. How can I reach your psyche when I can’t feel like me? We need a break, but together. How about Waikiki? We need an escape from every clock and key! My compli-intricated life is consuming me, Both slowly and ever so quick-i-ly. Beating me down like a flickerin’ light switch, Like a ceaseless itch, like some muscle twitch. My intra-syncopated life, so much sin mixed in, Playin’ mannequin. Don’t know where to go or where I've been. My blood’s inoculated. My lungs, intubated. My brain’s all saturated with ... thoughts of you. My gut rots/plots its decoherence and destruction. Adherence to appearance, now a reduction, Into insanity. Or is it just my own vanity? We shall just have to wait and see, If you can still stand to love me. Still stand to love me.
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

This song was inspired by the desire to create a song with pig latin in it. For those who have forgotten, pig latin words are formed by moving the front consonants to the end and adding "ay", so "pregnant" becomes either "regnantpay" or "egnantpray". In this song I didn't want the listener to immediately decipher the 'nonsense' words, so I made up a mild variant of pig latin, in which "oh" is added at the end of a word (instead of "ay"), so "pregnant" now becomes "egnantproh". In the song, the female is actually saying (when translated) the following to the male: "Please make me pregnant. Then you'll be stuck with me." The male doesn't know what she is saying but he is still suspicious and so responds: "Don't understand, but it sounds way out of hand... I'm staying clear of any gobbledygook that can hook or cook me." and so on.

Lyrics

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MAKIN’ NO SENSE Michael Dyer © 2007 You’re makin’ no sense. Can’t decipher your wish. Guess I’m too dense. What’s that strange gibberish? Oh, when you say: “I-woh ant-woh oo-yoh oo-toh arry-moh ee-moh.” I don’t know, but I can’t play, ‘cuz it sounds too craz-ay. Oh ‘cuz it does; it does; ‘cuz it does; it does; it does. You’re making no sense. What do you want? Is it some curse or is it a taunt? Oh, when you say: “Ease-ploh ake-moh ee-moh egg-nant-proh.” I don’t know. Don’t understand. But it sounds way outta hand. Oh ‘cuz it does; it does; ‘cuz it does; it does; it does. You’re makin’ no sense. What’s your game? Your mumbo jumbo is drivin’ me insane. Oh, when you say: “En-thoh ool-yoh ee-boh uck-stoh ith-woh ee-moh.” I can’t stay or play, either way. Feels like I’m flying too low. Oh ‘cuz it does; it does; ‘cuz it does; it does; it does. I’m stayin’ clear of any gobbledygook that can hook me or cook me, Or any bunkum or claptrap that can sting or zing me. I’m stayin’ clear, outta sheer fear, ‘cuz what you say, sounds too craz-ay. ‘Cuz it does.
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

This song is about people who behave contemptibly in relationships. It was first titled "Beneath Contempt" and then retitled "Sink So Low" and finally it ended up with a title referring to the pits we sometimes find ourselves in. The pits here are so deep that they are "swallowin' all deams in sight, swallowin' even the birds in flight..."

Lyrics

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DEEP SINKHOLES Michael Dyer © 2007 How could you sink so low, Hand-deliver underhanded blows? How could you lie down in the gutter, Just to lie with some vulgar other? Oh, what you just had to attempt, Reeks like muck and sinks beneath contempt! (Beneath contempt, beneath contempt.) He doesn’t care for your special essence. His desire’s now in its late senescence. For him it was all just pretend. I know ‘cause he was once a friend. Some friend. (Beneath contempt, beneath contempt.) You swore we’d grow old together. You swore we would weather any weather. You painted such lofty goals, But now I see your deep sinkholes. Swallowing all dreams in sight. Swallowing even the birds in flight. Swallowing all our past delights. Deep sinkholes seem to be our blight. Our fright. Our plight. (Deep sinkholes, deep sinkholes.) How could you sink so low, Hand-deliver underhanded blows? How could you lie down in the gutter, Just to lie with some vulgar other? Oh, what you just had to attempt. Reeks like muck and sinks beneath contempt! With a modicum of dignity, I hereby declare our love, officially, Just some lost history. Oh, some past history. We’re history! (Deep sinkholes, deep sinkholes.)
Michael Dyer

Story

Like many people, I am concerned about humanity's effect on the Earth's environment. My first EarthSong appeared as a track in the CD: Nothing Seems Like What it Seems. That song spoke in general about how "they're taking our space way" and "covering the light of day". Earthsong II is a more detailed song, in that it talks about rising oceans, about estrogenic chemicals appearing in the food we eat that can feminize males, and so on.

Lyrics

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EARTHSONG II Michael Dyer © 2007 In every stream around, prescription drugs abound, With frogs hermaphrodite, their loins, such a fright. Strong winds are here to stay, that blow our homes away. All oceans on the rise, small islands their first prize. Asphalt replaces trees, makes room for SUVs. Our oxygen is low, just like the mountain snow. With spider genes in food, what brew is being brewed? A child with genes mal-formed, comes from an Earth deformed. Our estrogenic plates, will men emasculate. Our gas that's octane plus, our girls androgynous. Our fuel, it burns so hot, heats up the Earth a lot. Where are the glaciers? Polar bears, no need for furs. The ozone hole, it grows. Sun burns us while we doze, And gasoline explodes, as every auto knows. Clogged freeways now a curse. A coronary burst. Clogged airways now a curse, a cancer getting worse. The Earth, she does now cry. So many species die. The Earth, she does now cry. She's asking us just "Why?" She's asking us just "Why?" She's asking us just, "Why?"
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

This song was inspired by a technical difficulty with my music-production software. Although the new version fixes this difficulty, at the time that I wrote this song, the software I was using was incapable of specifying different speeds within the same song, but I wanted to write a song that would have fast, slow, and medium-speed sections within it. The meter in this song actually never changes but I counted out 5 beats used during the 'slow' sections and 4 beats during the medium and fast sections. Also the lead guitar plays fast during the fast sections, so hopefully these musical ploys give the illusion that the song is alternatively speeding up and slowing down. I needed a theme that would go along with such changing tempos and the classic theme I chose was that of the man wanting to get physically intimate more quickly than the woman.

Lyrics

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TOO FAST SO S L O W Michael Dyer © 2007 I want to go-it-so-fast, While she … wants … to … take it … so … slow, I want to move-it-past-talk, While she … wants … to … get … to … know … me, Better than I even know myself, but how can I hold myself back? How can I stay on track? How can I take up the slack? ‘Cause I want to race-for-the-prize, While she wants … to just … watch … the sun rise, I want to leap-to-love-her, While she … wants … to just ... float … and … hover. How can I balance that beam, just when I’m about to scream? How can I hold back my dreams, when I’m about to burst all my seams? ‘Cause I want to dive-for-her-jewels, While she wants … to just ... wait … by … the pool. I want to grab-for-the-fruit, While she … wants … me … just wearing … some … suit. Oh, how can she be so cruel? Am I just a sorry-ass fool? How can I slow myself down? Why can’t she speed up her ground? ‘Cause I want to dive-for-her-jewels, While she … wants … to just ... play … it so … cool. I want to leap-to-love-her, While she … wants … to just float … and … hover. I know I’m moving too fast, but she’s just moving so slow. O-oh, how can I last? Can she really not know? Oh, movin’ too-fast. Oh, movin’ … so … slow. Oh, way-way-too-fast. Oh, so … pain … ... fully … slow. Oh, way-way-too-fast. Oh, so … ... so … ... so slow. !
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

We all make mistakes in relationships; in some cases, these mistakes completely destroy the relationship. We wish we could undo the damage, but usually it is too late. Musically, the song alternates between minor and major chords (e.g. Dm A, Cm G, Bm F#, Em B, C#m G# ...). This chord progression causes the key to constantly shift and so it was a bit of a challenge to find suitable harmonies.

Lyrics

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IF I COULD UNDO Michael Dyer © 2007 If I could undo, the damage I’ve done. Only undo, the damage I’ve done. The damage, damage, I have done. If I could make two, from what's left of one. Only make two, from what's left of one. Only undo, The damage, damage I have done. If I could find you, where you’ve run. Only find you, where you've run. Only undo, The damage I’ve done. The damage, damage I have done. If I could make love, where now there is none. Only make love, where now there is none. Only undo, the damage I’ve done. Only undo, The damage, damage, I have done. If I could undo, The damage I’ve done.
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

This song was inspired by my daughter deciding to major in math in college. I began thinking of the algebraic relations of transitivity (e.g., if A>B and B>C then A>C), reflexivity (if A=B then B=A), and distributivity (AxB + AxC = Ax(B+C)) and functional relations, such as composition. For example, if you have two functions f(x) and g(x), then composing them results in f(g(x)) or g(f(x)). Then I just mapped these kinds of mathematical properties onto love, to see which of these properties love has. Usually I play the guitar as the lead instrument in my songs, but in this case, I decide to make the keyboard be lead instead.

Lyrics

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LOVE’S ALGEBRA Michael Dyer © 2007 Love’s got an algebra, all its own. With love’s equations you’ll take her home, Girl of your dreams, but you gotta claw, all the way through love’s algebra. Too bad love’s just not reflexive. That’s can be ever so vex-ive! My loving her won’t make her love me. Too bad there’s no reciprocity. Good thing love ain’t transitive, or when I love her and she loves Ted, Then I’d have to bed poor ol’ Ted. That would be tough, so instead, Love has its inverse, and that is hate. No additives but effective to date. Love plus hate, ya know, ain’t nil, but a broken heart whose love has spilled; A broken heart whose blood has spilled. Love’s not distributive. (Ain’t that primitive!) I love Joy and I love Jane, But try to love 'em both, in the same place. That’s not something to readily face. Love ain’t symmetric. (This is so hectic!) I love her with a passion dis-lec-tic, But she treats me, like any other, young or older, family brother. Love can be composed right under your nose. You hate lovin’ her. She loves hating you. What can you do? You can’t just sue when you hate lovin’ her and she loves hating you. You hate lovin’ her. She loves hating you. What’s the square-root, of your relationship? If it’s two then you’re a foursome. (You scum!) Watch out! You’ll end up with the crumbs; suckin’ on a bottle of cheap rum. What’s love taken to a higher power? Love to that degree is love by the hour. Stay away from polynomial love. It’s just a form of ceremonial love. Better know love’s algebra, or you’ll never reach Nir-va-a-na. Better know love’s algebra, or you’ll miss her sweet er-o-ti-ca. If you don’t know love’s algebra, your kiss will be like ant-ar-ti-ca. If you don’t know love’s algebra, you’ll never get past her mas-ca-a-ra. Love can decompose right under your nose: You hate lovin' her. She loves hating you. What can you do (other than screw?) when you hate lovin' her and she loves hating you. You have lovin' her. She loves hating you. Oh, love’s algebra. Oh, love’s algebra.
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

The idea for this song came to me while camping. As to the strange-sounding lead instrument -- that is the sound of an Irish Bouzouki. I don't actually have an Irish bouzouki. Instead I played keyboard with its sound synthesized. Also, I was at the time listening to some Sarah McLachlan and Chris Isaak music. They both have phenomenal voices and the ability to kind of "break" their voice (in a pleasing, lilting fashion) when switching into falsetto, so I attempted (but not as successfully) to do something similar with my voice in Ethereal Night.

Lyrics

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ETHEREAL NIGHT Michael Dyer © 2007 Ethereal night, your sidereal lights glow over our camping site, And you snuggled with me, in my sleeping bag. Ethereal night, I awoke and struggled, with vague feelings of fright. Did you hear a sound, what might have been a cry at great height? What has happened? What is wrong? Is my love alright? Ethereal night, your mist is cool; your frost a white fur. Ethereal night, I’ve been such a fool. Guide my way to her. Did shouts sound out to break the flight, of a soaring gull, A soaring gull in the dark twilight? Ethereal night, your jagged cliffs climb to such a height. And I see bare forms in black and white, ethereal night. I feel weak and faint. My sight is blurred. My chest is tight. Am I too late? What is their fate? Are they alright? Ethereal night, your dark breath blows black leaves around, And your dark, dark grass now holds a lust-stained ground. Ethereal night, are those silhouettes of woman and man? Ethereal night, could it now be that fate is at hand? My friend’s shaking and my love, she’s down, Laying down on the lust-stained ground. Winds now howl, from the bowels of hell. What might have been only the devil can tell. Ethereal night, please cast a spell; make all material in sight, Just disappear, so she was never here. Just disappear so she was never, ever here. Ethereal night, your dark breath blows black leaves around, And your dark, dark grass now holds, a lust-stained ground. And I want to leap, into your deep abyss, Never to be found.
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

While I have written several songs that are in open tunings, I had never written a song for bottleneck slide guitar; so this song was fun because I got to use a bottleneck. What inspired this song was thinking about how the microscopic world (of eyelash mites and germs) is so different from the macroscopic world that we humans inhabit.

Lyrics

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UNDER THE MICROSCOPE Michael Dyer © 2007 Her smooth pale skin, so reminds him of sin. Her long lashes flutter and flash, like tin-sel in, The midnight air, her soft fair hair, He just has to stare; just has to dare. But under the microscope, there’s little hope. Eyelash mites do bite. What a sight. Her dead flakes of skin are eaten, By dermatophagoides with ease. Who will win? Her dark green eyes, both wary and wise, Hint at such a prize, so he must prepare, Pick-up lines and lies. And her perfumed wrists, Asking to be held, waiting to be kissed. But under the microscope, how can anyone cope? Sweat glands do toil, near specks of salt and oil. Tiny hairs do sprout, towering about. While spores germinate, microbes grow and mate. Her painted toes and nails could tell such tales. Her pierced tongue and ears, mingle passion with fears. Her full breasts and lips, electrify fingertips. Her long, crossed legs, each calf just begs, For a soft caress; nothing more, nothing less. But under the microscope, paint and lip wax elope. Under the microscope, an STD may be, Either near or far, in a tear at the bar. Under the microscope, another world awaits, That seals their fate, beneath all beauty as bait. Her dark green eyes, both wary and wise, Hint at such a prize, so he must prepare, Pick-up lines and lies. And her perfumed wrists, Asking to be held, waiting to be kissed. But under the microscope, they both will grope, For hope of love, beneath and above. Under the microscope, The microscope.

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