Released 1 May 2001 

Recorded and mixed at Quantum Onion Studios, 
San Jose, CA

Songs composed, arranged, performed, recorded, and mixed by Amelia Ray

Cover artwork by Justin Hanks



Talk about your dirty old man  
You got a bird in the bush, and two in your hands  
Someone's on the phone crying, "We need relief,"  
And all you have to offer is a measure full of grief  
Everybody knows, it's the daily news,  
That you're just trying to walk in your Daddy's shoes  

You better heed what your Daddy cried,  
"Try to wipe the dung off your boots before you step inside"  

Driving everybody insane  
You got greed in your eyes and war on the brain  
(more money, more power)  
Just to prove that you're not a heartless fool,  
You do your best Marv Albert at the Cardinal rule  
(marv albert, more power)  
If they try to tell you that your foot's in your mouth,  
You say that's the way we do it in the south  

You better heed what your Daddy said,  
"Don't you let the power of the press go to your head"  

You better do what your Daddy did  
Soon you'll be a foreign power with drunks for kids  


Strange that I have never seen you break  
Strange that you have never seen me take  
You don't believe in everything that you hear, so  
Why would you want to go and leave me standing here  
When you know I just dream to watch you wake?  

Standing in the hall I feel the silence of my home  
I got no place for you to run away to  
I guess that's why you left me alone  
I just don't see how your need to be right  
Can outweigh your need to feel loved  
I guess it's the time  
and the wrong sign  

Il n'y pas de mot ici  
Para explicar a ti  
If you'd trust me, you would see  
Il n'y pas de mot  

If you knew how much I loved you  
(if you knew how much I cared for you)  
Would you put my mind above you  
And bear all and more, unfasten,  
(would you take my hand and lead me to the promised land)  
To the secret of your passion  
Would you feel the hand that holds you  
(I can give you all that you need)  
Reach down into your soul you  
Have so much more to live for  
(Won't you make some time with me?)  
If you let me try to give your...  


She get up this morning, say she don't like my florentine no more,  
packs her bags and asks me can I help her at the door,  
I look around, searching for strength and then I say,  
No babe, I'm not gonna hurt you that way  

She says "The last time I thought it was forever, I was wrong then, too,  
Believe me babe, it's got nothin' to do with you,"  
I make-believe that I am bigger than I am,  
But I can feel her cringe when she hears the door slam  

If she don't wanna be with me, I'll take her down to the ocean, I'll throw her in,  
Wipe the salt from my eyes, this is the end  
If she has this need to be free, I hang my head in misery  
If she don't wanna be with me  

She says, "Can we talk this over like rational people?"  
I say "I lost all sense when I caught you creepin'  
And, anyway the time for talk between us has passed,  
We need to find something that will last  

I'll drive you down to the beach where I can clear my head,  
And maybe, if we're lucky no one will end up dead"  
It seems for a minute I may let her go,  
And, then I think about the spinach on the kitchen floor  

If she don't wanna be with me, I'll take her down to the ocean,  
I'll throw her in,  
Wipe the salt from my eyes, this is the end  
If she has this need to be free, I hang my head in misery  
If she don't wanna be with me  

She can do better, if only you let her,  
She's a go-getter like loma prieta,  
Just like in the movies, she'll be all she can be,  
See that what she should see, but  

If she don't wanna be with me, I'll take her down to the ocean,  
I'll throw her in,  
Wipe the salt from my eyes, this is the end  
If she has this need to be free, I hang my head in misery  
If she don't wanna be with me  

 Iberian Girl  

Walking along, singing a song that I wrote for my girlfriend  
Well, it seems that fall has finally come this way  
I was surprised, she was obliged, asked me why I thought she should stay  
And, for all my thoughts, I found I had nothing to say  

You could see what's gone wrong  
That my love took too long  
Now it seems all I've been working for is gone  

I never thought that I'd be stumbling down this road again  
Well, you'd think I'd learn from all my past mistakes  
But here I am I'm standing face-to-all the pretty pictures under my bed  
And, inside, I hear that nasty little tremor of questions start to quake  

Is it me? I don't know  
Some would say she should go  
'Cause I'm only going to end up saying no  

They say it's not so bad to run around  
But the only time I wanna be in somebody's arms  
Is with my feet flat on the ground  

I paid a doctor to take a camera to my brain  
And analyse all the shots she took  
But the negatives came out a bit too dark  
And then she asked me if I would rather go  
For dinner and a movie one autumn night  
Or just pack a lunch and sit out in the park  

Was that real? who could say?  
Did she mean, "Come my way?"  
Well, we'll find out over wine and cheese today  

Nine Minutes  

Nine minutes from now  
You'll be sitting here saying, "I should be getting down"  
And getting nothing done  
You'll still believe that the answer will come  

Looking for you, specifically,  
Like some census-taker with a mission and a decree  
"That's not jazz," you say and turn the tune up and tap the time away  

Oh, St. John, can you help me?  
I'm so lost and I can't see  
Thought it was over, but it's just getting worse  
Is there an end to this curse?  

I'd have thought it a phase  
If I had been able to get up on the 9th day and walk outside  
Is it better to view the simple things that people do  
Or close my eyes and try to hide?  
I have watched the sun set and divide the sky  
Into what I can and cannot have  
Tell me why I should not cry  

Oh, St. John, can you heal me?  
I'm so afraid  
Do you feel me?  
I try to behave like I'm all that I need  
Please give me something to breathe  

Oh, St. John, who could save me?  
Am I in need, or just lazy?  
I like to believe there's a reason to exist   


I guess I have a penchant for being used  
I let you come around and do what you will with my blues  
But, baby, that's alright  
I'd rather be blue with you than happy with somebody new  

You push all my buttons and tease  
Test my hate and my love degrees  
But, baby, that's just fine  
I'd rather wait for you than play with someone in the meantime  

Sam He Is  

There's a man in Barbados who knows the score  
He gives the people a little, then he takes it back,  
But they still cry, "More, more"  
He owns four shirts that look just the same  
And no one remembers his name  
When he's out on the square, the light in his hair  
He smiles and say, "I am your saviour"  
An old woman stands, takes a flower from his hands  
But she don't know what he gave her  

The people all gather to see the man with the marvelous eyes  
He tells them of the wonder and the healing of love  
And finally of tithes  
They all seem quite convinced that this is what they meant by messiah  
For no matter how close they get, he seems larger and higher  
They all bow down before the man with the score and beg he look down and bless them  
The old woman stands, flower wilting in her hands, and says, "I have a question"  

She says, "Lord, my Lord, why do I call and you not come?" He says, "Woman, I've got to give to all of these people here, so stand in line and you shall get some"  
But when she turns around, the look in her eyes goes from sorrow to rage to a frown  
She picks up the petals of the flower he gave and with one blow she knocks him down  
The people all fall silent at the sight of their leader's demise  
The old woman stands, throws the flower from her hand, and says, "Let's think on this for a little while"  

She says, "Lord, my Lord, why did you send the man with the score? You give the people a little, and, then, you take it back, but we still cry, 'More, more'"  
But when she hears no reply, she lets out a sigh as she watches the crowd disperse  
The man with the score, his body now sore, says, "At least I was well-rehearsed"  
Now when he's seen on the square, dull white in his hair, he smiles and says, "I'm just a player"  
The old woman stands with beads in her hands, and gives up a prayer  

I Wanna Be Your Dog  

I wanna feel like dying every time you call my name  
And not worry if you've been calling someone else the same  
And not wonder who or what came before me  
I wanna rest peaceful by your side at night  
And not think about where you go in daylight  
And not question who or what shares your love  
But I'm too bright for that  
And you're not right for that  
And I'm too weak to try  
And you're too dumb to lie  
And there's all that shit you gave  
And I've got face to save  
Damn this reason of mine  

©2001 Amelia C. Ray/Annabel Is Her Mother Today (ASCAP)