Fine words don’t mean too much,
When those fine words are a lie.
Put into print, or taken straight from a mouth,
They have no truth to testify.
What’s true for you? What’s true for me?
Is there truth here to be found?
What is the true measure of a man,
If the yard stick is underhand?
Damn the future, till it lies like the past,
Till the song is as sweet as the voice.
Damn the future, till it lies like the past,
But let the people think they’re making a choice.
Damn the future, till it lies like the past,
Is there anyone left now who can tell.
Damn the future, till it lies like the past,
Till the people get immune to the smell.
Old dogs sing your medicine songs,
Sing them out both loud and clear.
Sing them what they want to know.
And sing them what they want to hear.
You sang them once of all a saviour god,
One who died for everyone’s sins.
Now you sing them a sweet future song,
Of a time when everyone one wins.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
So not too many people will see.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
So you can re-write the history.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
But give out sweets to give it all nice taste.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
Till the things that were, are all now replaced.
Keep them simple, keep them quiet.
Give them things to make them feel there happy.
Give them news, and give them current affairs,
Give them just enough to make them think they’re savy.
Give them dreams and give them hopes.
Give them all their heart’s desire.
Give them peace, but with just a tiny hint of war.
Offer a safe warm place by your fire.
Give them circuses,
And give them soft warm bread.
Give them clowns, religion and the movies.
Give them titillation and a fun time in the sun.
Give them heads you win and tails he looses.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
So not too many people will see.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
So you can re-write the history.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
But give out sweets to give it all nice taste.
Damn the future, till it’s murky like the past.
Till the things that were, are now all replaced.
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Recorded on the Grecian isle of Hydra, this is blissed-out psych pop with stacked falsetto harmonies and luscious arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 9, 2023