1. |
Never been
02:09
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2. |
Killin time
03:02
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Killin time on Hawthorne street. Copyright M.Ziza 2003 (11/11/02)
(drop-D, D69/G69 mainly)
Killin time, parked on Hawthorne street
An endless parade shoots by, it's a 5 o'clock jam
I see a poodle out walkin its owner, yeah its got her by a leash
The twitching man comes back, there's nothin on the flicks
Opposite the park there's a little yellow building
scratchy fibro front, the numbers sprayed on the door
maybe it used to be a shop, a mechanic or a brewry
no one lives there cept for the bin just outside
So while I'm pickin at the crumbs of my half eaten sandwich
A woman scrapes by, in deep conversation...
Now that'd be ok, on any other racecourse
But she argues with the air, Cause there's nobody else around (RPT)
(solo thingy)
Oh as the sky starts singing gently. "Stormy Weath-er"
It plays me its pitter-patter, roof top tune
I'm almost ready dreamin, but the air is still steamin
But not for much longer, it's gonna cool down real soon.
Now it's a grey grey evening
A Grandma is teasing, her sons' little boy, he's dodging raindrops with his feet.
Well the car lights are all on, an I'm almost done.
The drycleaners do a roaring trade....
(Chorus)
Oh.. Brisbanes not a city, it's an urban sprawl landscape
The houses are temples, for the worshipping crowd
with joggers an kickers, drivers an sliders, smakers an wackers
of red blue and brown.
Couples and screamers, scullers an schollars, and pert butt pristine poodled power walkers . . . ...run all over town
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3. |
Letters to you son
04:21
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4. |
Playin with fire
01:35
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Playin with fire -Copyright M.Ziza 2003 (2002)
You playin with fire
you're gonna get burnt
you start a riot and you're gonna get hurt
you're (climbin) flyin alone
oh you're gonna fall
you hang around the dog you're gonna get kicked
there's nothin here for ya
go back to your home
before she leaves you all alone
Not got the desire
to ta-ake a fall
Not got the temprement to scrape an' crwl
I'm (climbin) flyin alone
won't wait by the phone
you say it's heaven
well here comes your hell
You're playin with fire
Oh can't you tell...
sometimes a rose don't have no smell..
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5. |
Shalt not
01:32
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Shalt not. - Copyright M.Ziza 2003 (1998)
c7
Well thou shalt not this
And thou shalt not that
If ya hear a hissing sound,
Ya know yer tyres' flat
f7 c7
So, get out the spanner, and the jack
g7
Flick on the hazzard lights
f7 (c7-g7 turn.)
To let 'em know where it's at...
c7
Just another bummer on lifes big behind
A stray lump of meteor, that sends us all blind
f7 (triffid sound)
Watch out for them plants!
c7
Or you'll end up feeding, the ants..
g7 f7 c7
Oh..., Oh...., Oh.
(ad lib ohs etc)
(Spoken: after last chord)
That'll do!
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6. |
Ziza salad
02:19
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7. |
Of sleep disturbed
02:36
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8. |
Slidey noodles
01:32
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9. |
Smell the cheese
02:35
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10. |
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Two Dentists and a Funeral -Copyright M.Ziza 2003 (21/6/01)
Head at the window, looking down at the funeral, of Robert Menzies.
Up stairs at the dentist, is the chair... that dreaded chair.
Old mans' nostrils looking down at the child....the cavity.
While corpses below in procession, up the road slither past me. (like this)
Draped in blue, dresssed in new shoes - of leather they're squeaky
And after the service, we'll have ice cream and movies...
And a train ride through the suburbs, (old) Bobby never looked so good
His mates that came cryin', while nosed pressed up to the glass I sat, sighing.
Head at the window looking down at the funeral, of Robert Menzies.......
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11. |
IDEA2_DGDGA#D
01:04
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Mark Ziza Brisbane, Australia
...independent soloist, guitarist, vocalist songwriter from Brisbane, Australia.
Playing original music and covers with
a style which has been described as "off the mainstream altogether!"
From Delta Blues sounds to the quirks of a Tom Waits swing tune, Mark has found his own voice and has an unusual vocabulary of guitar techniques lurking at the fingertips.
www.markziza.com
... more
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