David Heavenor: Music

A song about the struggle for inspiration when only cliches march across the page. The title came from an original demo which I recorded with Simon Jaquet where I was just mumbling gobbledegook for the lyric (through lack of inspiration). Caroline Jaquet on listening picked out the words in the title so they had to stay.

THE IDIOT SLOT

Picked up the book and I opened my voice
Sought for an image it’s not a matter of choice
I looked for true living but its picture was gone
So I’m left with jagged ashes in pretext of a song

I tried the contortion I faked the exchange
But my mind got fixated so I’m back on the page
Imitation’s easy but the price is too dear
It means you’re a liar and you’re losing your tears


So weigh it up now
Ma soeur mon frére.
Tag der zahren, ce jour colère
Roberta Joan, Bobby D
From Saskatoon to the Grand Coulee
Chalk the floor, set the scene
Stretch the scrim, incarnate the dream
Stalk the beauty, fight the stain
Until God’s boy will rise again

Then I laid out my credentials
And relished them in view
But the angels of discomfort trill
Oh boy you’ve far too few
Where are the secrets of deliverance
Objects of your pride
I’m waiting for the phone to ring
In the bunker where you hide

So what do you feel? What do you mean?
Do the sands of time clog up your dreams?
Does the day hang heavy like a hacking cough?
Do you think the gloss is wiping off?
Look to the moon, to the myriad suns
Dance with the Devil, see the kingdoms turn
To the cosmic shysters who erect their plots
Do you think I like riding in your idiot slot?