Deal With Your Disenchantment

by Nicole Skeltys

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1.
And you could turn a sneer into a snarl into a snare For the heart And though she knew deep down it was just art She played her part. You gasped And slid your shouts down the old blues harp Your words wrapped round like lace A world seen better From her covered face. (CHORUS) Well, her heart was torn in two But nothing that a mountain or two Couldn't have moved in you Why bother with a straight delivery? When the crooked walks got you lost At so little personal cost Well she never Quite believed you. She's shaking out her spare change and she’s Throwing it Into your beggars cup down You didn't know what that meant But you looked it up. And you found it was a figure of speech long gone And beckoned On and on. She followed like the Queen of Spades And you tried to evade The questions that she made "Did you see me with my shades pulled tight? Satin dress that didn't fit right Bottle blonde on blonde for you tonight Trembling hand next to yours as I drank and I Saw right through you? (CHORUS) Well, her heart was torn in two But nothing that a mountain or two Couldn't have moved in you Why bother with a straight delivery? When the crooked walks got you lost At so little personal cost Well she never Quite believed you. (HARMONICA BREAK – x2) In Mexico, ah gentle soul Mother Mary and a Barbie Doll Then mystical disclaimer post¬bordello And you shook out your change and you Tried to pretend The feeling was strange But in the end It was mutual. The strokes on your face left her all alone But the inspiration was second to none You opened a window to a smash of sunshine And opened another bottle of wine. (CHORUS) Well, her heart was torn in two But nothing that a mountain or two Couldn't have moved in you Why bother with a straight delivery? When the crooked walks got you lost At so little personal cost Well she never Quite believed you. Well, she's a widow now, and older than you'd care to imagine As the wipers scrape down the horizon You turn around, and there they are Wife and children in the back of the car. There's a carpark ahead that someone will understand So you turn off for refreshments, just like a man. But you didn't try for closer no matter what you said You just lent into the mirror with a '50s slick ahead And you parted Your soul instead. (CHORUS) Well, her heart was torn in two But nothing that a mountain or two Couldn't have moved in you Why bother with a straight delivery? When the crooked walks got you lost At so little personal cost Well she never Quite believed you.
2.
Well I feel scared and I feel lost, and I feel anger too But I just aint dumb enough to take it out on you I guess you just ain't educated, I guess cos they closed the schools I guess cos you voted for greatness, for those that were born to rule Mexicans, Bulgarians, refugees in Nauru If there's one thing you seem to be certain of, they ain't nothing like you There are no simple solutions to your economic pain But you deal with your disenchantment by finding someone to blame. I saw 16 vestal virgins, just dying to be born But on all the Starbucks laptops, the boys were watching porn I saw the Thin White Duke, a ghost riding the rails I saw one million weepers boarding ships that couldn't sail I heard the roar of selfies, on Instant megaphones I bent to hear a blade of grass, that swore it was alone I saw them breathe in Windsor, in London watched them choke They waved at disenchantment, I was trying to see the joke The truthless Mayor's eyes mesmerised through photo opps designed To slip down Twitter alleys while guns marched up behind Men without conviction, started swarming everywhere While the readers got addictions to comments in thin air I heard the tolling bells, though the bell ringer's resigned I heard 10,000 Voices singing nothing all in time Saw White Helmets finding hands reaching through the rubble Resisting disenchantment, they were asking for trouble (HARMONICA BREAK) A golden shower rained hard on power, a Trump card had been laid While the jesters in the New York Times demanded to paid Happy Birthday Mr President, from Russia with love Big Brother’s on the moon and they want to shoot you from above I met a homeless astronaut, who asked the way to Mars I met a girl who faked a smile, and wondered who she was Nails detailed, hairs in braids, and eyebrows that are threaded It won’t deal with her disenchantment, but she’ll certainly look better. The Masters of War, danced to Grime Core, and they'd take your life without asking Religious sheriffs spilled blood in the streets, but no-one's beliefs were the problem 'Je Suis Charlie', said the clown in her tweet, while Boko Harim stole her daughter There's a corporation that will celebrate you, if you sing in a prostitute mannner So you didn't get the sex to which you were rightfully heir? Just deal with your disenchantment, grow up and get out of here.
3.
God Kills Someone Every Day I've got a hole in my gut, a scar on my breast, A rip in my heart, a flat in my tyre Lord, what did I do to disrespect you? Make you so mad, bring down your ire? I've kept myself alive to the tune of the hive Kept my nose completely to the grind But now my days are reeling, because I’ve got this feeling That my faith is about to rewind (CHORUS) Well I hear my conscience say You got it good, So what if you hurt? Oh, so you should Nothing's so sweet it can't be swept away Don’t you know God kills someone every day? There was no way around the heartache highway No exit ramps to be found Just miles and miles of solo driving Till I got to lonely town. I heard there was a place of honour and respect Where men make love to women, but I haven’t been there yet I’ll be the first to buy a ticket if it came on the internet. (Harmonica solo) Then I felt His hand upon my shoulder I knew, yes I knew I was old, getting older There’s truckers to whom I must give way Pull over, take the exit off the cosmic highway. You didn’t come to see me Angel Gabe But I gave birth to Jesus anyway I still take it personal, though I hear the angels say You know God kills someone everyday? (CHORUS) Well I hear my conscience say You got it good, So what if you hurt? Oh, so you should Nothing's so sweet it can't be swept away Don’t you know God kills someone every day?
4.
(CHORUS) I’m old enough to be your mother I sure would like to be your lover But I have got to face reality When I’m fifty nine You’ll be in your prime And you’ll be leaving me for your own kind. We like the same bands And we like the same cult films And when we go out dancin’ We even like to take the same pills You take my hand and flatter me You make me feel so young A love to last is what I need But you just want to have fun (CHORUS) I’m old enough to be your mother I sure would like to be your lover But I have got to face reality When I’m fifty nine You’ll be in your prime And you’ll be leaving me for your own kind. I was watching my papa die When you was learning how to drive And love cannot abridge What time divides. So lets stop this foolish dreamin’ In such innocence begun If I’m old enough to be your mother Then you’re young enough to be my son! (BREAK) (CHORUS) I’m old enough to be your mother I sure would like to be your lover But I have got to face reality When I’m fifty nine You’ll be in your prime And you’ll be leaving me for your own kind.
5.
With your patterned knowledge of the past, And the paisleys, stars and stripes The struggles that entwined them Printed artfully over white Hung in your coffee bars Your loft distressed walls, Their politics kinda bores you But the clothes suit you most of all. (CHORUS) All you wanted was a A place in the world Your flag to unfurl As a tattered skirt girl. You recited your swipes On Tinder by rote You stretched out your body On that big wide digital slope That morning a pensioner Asked “How’d you vote?” You nodded for an answer As your headphones kept you remote (CHORUS) All you wanted was a A place in the world Your flag to unfurl As a tattered skirt girl. Last night’s Uber ride You wept into your change And vowed to hunt down all your friends Who’d escaped the rifle range Of self-interrogation. While the troops you needed fast Were screaming words their kings Had teleprompted to the last. (HARMONICA BREAK) From the CNN desks From the pay on demand They lay back and think of you On Arabian sands It’s a quite a flattering experience It’s an imaginary deliverance White or black, covered or displayed It’s you they want to lay (CHORUS) Pointing at you with their Finger twirls The stenciled street suburbs All yours, tattered skirt girl. Outro
6.
(CHORUS) She heard there was a problem in the Execution of A loophole in existence she’d not heard of That’s where they went, her childhood friends The men she dreamed of She saw them all upon the television. The television Television way back then was tea-time for her soul Though the seconds now have stole Replaced the young with old And what a Prince foretold Is surely Catching up with her. An arm was flung across her head, upon a chenille bed The police had lately said That her Pa was dead The sun looped round but never found Just where her gaze left off Was it on the jewelry box? Or the plastic rearing horse? A gift from an Aunt of course Who didn’t understand where Destiny shattered. (CHORUS) She heard there was a problem in the Execution of A loophole in existence she’d not heard of That’s where they went, her childhood friends The men she dreamed of She saw them all upon the television. The television Plasma rays gilded the days, of slowly sinking beams Through tousled hair daydreams They would repeat, it seems The earnest sci-fi scenes The spacecraft in green screen Blake was murdered first Now feelings in reverse So helpfully rehearsed The end felt more familiar than the start of it. Mascared eyes blinked down from Mars and She loved him the most He played piano ghost She believed him most Ziggy Stardust boast On a saxophone afloat Believed in him more than Broken fingernails and diaphragms Setting sail for the Sons of Oblivion. Past August holiday ferris wheels Down candy floss crossed childhood deals Through Moms that tugged at slipping heels Protecting what they feel From sons that couldn’t deal With anything too real That’s where they’ve come from And that’s where they’re going to. (CHORUS) She heard there was a problem in the Execution of A loophole in existence she’d not heard of That’s where they went, her childhood friends The men she dreamed of She saw them all upon the television. The television That’s what she saw, inside a hand, clasped Round a passing phase Of Spock inside a haze Of Technicolour glaze Her mind could not erase That year’s transported days No lover’s eyes replayed Those distant scratched up rays From cathode tube displays Of actor’s salad days They meant what they could not say Inside every piercing gaze Though she longed for men She got a sense of humour. (CHORUS) She heard there was a problem in the execution of A loophole in existence she’d not heard of That’s where they went, her childhood friends The men she dreamed of She saw them all upon the television And though they’ve gone they live within her vision Her television
7.
Desolation Row (Updated) Well, David, he was a cheater And Stephan was an only child With Pete we made the most of it Like marriage for a while.  Love was fabulous catastrophes Like bowling balls rolled slow Now off the hook, the phones lie down On Desolation Row He was a father in the laundromat Who fed machines with dimes Then lent back in the plastic chair And texted to his wife The heavy eyelids lifted And threw me a direct gaze Sweet brown shoulders, long black hair Statement T-shirt from far off days. Time had pulled those years away But love swept him ashore And I wondered why every man I met Apparently needed more. It’s disappointing how laddered stockings Even now, just grow and grow And you don’t know the half of it On Desolation Row.   Predatory attitudes Were apparently all the rage They wanted to see just what you’d do When you were put into a cage. Celebrities now in prison Doesn’t seem completely fair When sex had no rhyme or reason And step-fathers cruelly brushed your hair.   Well, I hear they like Adele Nice pitter patter on the ears I hear they like Ed Sheeran A reliable way to hear. I guess from Tin Pan Alley, The lover birds have flown At 3.00 am, would I lie to you? From Desolation Row. There’s perspective that I’m twisting for Inside a kaleidoscope A view of life that makes sense to me With one who’ll help me cope But apparently that ain’t meant to be And I’m flipping these thoughts alone The nights run down then wake me up On Desolation Row.   It’s the lottery of truth And she wants to gamble it all She’s leaning out the window Sees Off  Licence in the dawn Grabs her jacket and her phone Sees a billion ports of call Then slips it in her pocket Opens door, then leaves it all.   It’s a funny old coincidence That you’re hearing what she’s saying now When you were late into the office Followed by that teenage pout. It’s a crime, but who is the criminal? They look the same, don’t you know The line-up is accusing you On Desolation Row.
8.
Dear John the musical vineyard in which you toil Makes you unique in your vision, an artist royal They say you’re the ultimate beatnik, you know where its at In your psychedelic clockhouse self-drawn believer hat Mr John Norman, while your thoughts are formin Can I have your autograph? Mike Puleston entered then like he’d never left After 40 years of protest the man had scarcely slept He is a friend to the poor, making justice into law And he knew Bob Brown and he’s an eco-polymath Mr Mike Puleston, there’s no foolin’ Can I have your autograph? Nick Meyers’ Super-8 witnessed all he’d seen 1970s, marine biologists dreams No-one could match his style In weaving, cleaving, tenderly trapping scenes Mr Nick Myers love your film pliers Can I have your autograph? BREAK Stardrops and tearlights ran down her cheeks When all the leading men they all agreed to meet They hailed a cab and off they went, each making history And she Xeroxed all their stories and shared them on the street. Integrity, vision, kindness’ where its at We love the gentle people, we want your autograph Integrity, vision, kindness’ where its at We love the gentle people, we want your autograph Integrity, vision, kindness’ where its at We love, love You  

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A 21st century woman's response to Dylan's classic albums from '60s/ early '70s. All original material.

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released June 1, 2018

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Nicole Skeltys London, UK

Nicole Skeltys has released 12 albums in styles ranging from electronica, psychedelia and folk rock. This page hosts her folk rock/folktronica output including with the Melbourne based Dust Revival Band and the London/ Los Angeles based The Disenchanted. Latest LP 'Deal With Your Disenchantment' is a 21st century woman's response to Dylan's classic albums of '60s/early 70s, all originals. ... more

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