1. |
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The "Industrial Revolution" monologue addresses job loss, child labor, the family, secret basement laboratories and Brasso.
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2. |
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I think you’re gorgeous, but you knew that from the start
I think you’re gorgeous, oh yea, you make my little heart
Beat a thousand times a minute and my brain is really fried
I can hardly live without you, s’like I’ve up and died, you’re gorgeous!
Your hair, your eyes, your nose, your tongue,
They keep me commin’ back
You drive me to distraction, to the point of heart attack.
Cold sweats, the shakes, you’re gonna hear a quiver in my voice
When I demand you sit and beg, you’ll have no other choice.
I think you’re gorgeous, but you knew that from the start
I think you’re gorgeous, you make my little heart
Skip a beat when you get close and lay down by my side
Put your head into my lap and take me for a ride.
A ride, the likes of which I’ve never seen but oft anticipate
Your warm hot breath, your smooth wet tongue, I cannot concentrate
I cannot concentrate on all the things I gotta do, it gets so very hard
I lay down on the floor with you, and then it starts … bombards
My brain with acts obscene, you’re right on top of me
You dog, you nasty evil bitch, its puppy love, you see!
You’re gorgeous!
Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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3. |
Corsetry
03:02
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Corsets are unique to women or so the story goes
Necessary when it comes to wearing tailored clothes.
Application, lacing up and making them look right
I just cannot understand that all eternal fight
To squeeze, so please, I’m on my knees, you gotta breathe.
The girls do not complain, tis true, at least I’ve never heard
Of any at any time admitting that one word had been
Spoken out of turn with regards to this device
Which I must admit, at second glance, is really rather nice.
So squeeze, if you please, I’m on my knees, I gotta breathe.
Helping you to lace it up is really quite a thrill
Steam builds up inside my head and then the whistles shrill
Blasts inside my little brain, causes me to really sweat
A condition known as, oh who cares, I need a cigarette
Oh please, I’m on my knees, I gotta breathe
I need a cold shower.
Now that you are laced all in and fitting snugly tight
I realize the formal dinner is scheduled tomorrow night
It’s such a shame to let all this go to simple waste
Let’s have a glass of wine or two before you get unlaced.
So squeeze, oh please, I’m on my knees, we gotta breathe.
Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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4. |
Suburban Pawns
03:31
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City dwellers, urban blight, gotta flee into the night
Tract housing sprawl, mowing lawns, barbeques,
Look! We’re suburban pawns.
City kind of lets you know what it wants to do.
No mistakes, down and dirty, little gritty, too.
The Mrs. always had inside a funny little dream.
Sunshine, garden, picket fence, so simple it would seem.
Clean air to breathe, a place to swim, room for kids to grow…
We scrimped and saved then up and moved, so little did we know.
City dwellers, urban blight, gotta flee into the night
Tract housing sprawl, mowing lawns, barbeques,
Look! We’re suburban pawns.
Attitudes and platitudes never seem to stop
From people you don’t even know. All want to be on top.
Social climbing, rat racing, try to make amends
All of this amongst the people , HA, they call you “friends”!
Clean air to breathe, a place to swim, room for kids to grow…
We scrimped and saved then up and moved, so little did we know.
Don’t barbeque much anymore, neighbors moved away.
We sit and stare at each other, nothing much to say.
We social climbed and raced the rats, but to no avail.
Two kids in college, dog has died, one kid wound up in jail.
We breathed clean air and swam in place, kids had room to grow,
Can’t scrip, the 2nd mortgage’s due, so little did we know.
City dwellers, urban light, why did we flee into the night?
Tract housing sprawl, burned out lawns, no barbeques
We’re suburban pawns.
Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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5. |
Chill (Soy Un Tonto)
03:58
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Esta caliente. Muy muy caliente
Sweat is runnin’ off my face and down into my shoes
My heart is beating faster and I’ve got no time to loose
I want you back, yes, I’m a fool for walkin’ out on you
Without a work because I had thought that you had been untrue.
My friends had told me that they saw you steppin’ out on me,
I should have asked you then but now all that I can see…
Soy un tonto.
Estas caliente. Muy muy caliente.
I’d like to run my fingers through your long black silky hair,
Kiss your eyes, caress your thighs and touch your face so fair
But you won’t let me near you now and how it breaks my heart
I never knew just what I’d lost until we’d been apart
I cannot sleep and if I do I only see your face
You’re standing there with pure disdain, I’m in pure disgrace.
Soy un tonto.
Estoy caliente. Muy muy caliente.
My temperature is risin’ and my eyes begin to bulge
Cold showers will not do it, in my heart I must divulge
That I’ve always loved you from the start, it’s just you I adore.
To get you to come back to me I’d crawl across a floor
Covered edge to edge with broken glass, the shards I do abhor
… I’ve come to realize that you are mine no more…
I’m a fool.
Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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6. |
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The monologue addresses suffragettes, placards, matrons, mothers-in-law, lounge lizards, tin lizzies, the police and faulty emergency brakes.
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7. |
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Its story time, I'm tellin' you and so you better listen
'Bout Marquis Schulmann, Jules first name
On his brow did glisten drops of sweat with drops of blood
And years of airship gore
Yet 'tis more the Legend of the Blackdog,
Schulmann's airborne airship whore.
''Twas the Colonies received their wrath - the War of Separation
Carnage, mayhem point this sinner's soul toward just damnation
At Bowling Green a hellish storm... incipient reparation
The devil himself proclaimed with pride
Twas his very own causation.
Howling winds and screaming men with gunshots undefined
Airship timbers crack and metal grinds. The fears of all mankind
Belched from earth below and skies above
Through wind and rain and fog
To end the evil life of Schulmann's airship whore Blackdog.
Loud clash of arms and shrieks of men whilst torn into submission
Were not quite heard on ground below
Through garbled ship's transmission
The one clear voice was Schuelmann's voice repentant yet infernal
The wages of sin could only lead to damnation eternal.
A moralistic story yes, reflecting men and war
But to the point tells of the death of Schulmann's airship whore...
The Blackdog.
Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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8. |
White Chapel
02:45
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I’m inclined to go for an evening constitution on a regular basis.
My nocturnal lifestyle is such that I don’t get enough exercise
And I often force myself to indulge in the beauties of the city
Color… the color one sees when looking through inky blackness
Light…gives cause to look at the shadows in the coming dawn with relief.
It’s not often that I get a moment or a chance
To walk cobblestones so clean.
I’m not much of the outdoor type, as you can readily see.
Midnight walks through darkened streets,
Down West End avenues, soiled doves walk everywhere,
They haven’t got a clue. I smile and I nod “hello” to ladies passing by
They smile back and hesitate; I’m forced to wonder why…
Color… white! First Holy Communion, wedding gowns, pale skin…
Light. Ha! Light… that will happen soon enough, but first I must indulge…
Lovely ladies of the night, beware who goes about you
Know you your time is very short
My lust is for your worthless lives, the Advisor will report
That in the light of breaking day, a hapless corpse was found
In less than pretty perfect shape, lying on the ground.
COLOR! There is no color lest you talk about the red of the cobblestones.
LIGHT! Very early morning light, a sight that they will never see.
Mary Nichols, Annie Chapmann, Katherine Eddowes,
Mary Kelly, Elizabeth Stride, victims so it goes.
Alarms will ring, suspects brought in, questions asked in vane
White Chapel’s not the place to be
The Ripper’s struck again.
Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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9. |
Edison or Tesla
02:58
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Edison worked his staff, a man beyond his prime
Tesla, forward thinker, a man before his time.
Did you know that Tesla worked for Thomas Alva E.
Who took advantage of his staff, you just wait and see.
28 years old in ’84, Tesla’s working hard.
Edison’s DC currant won’t go farther than the yard.
Tesla creates AC currant and within the hour
Edison claims it dangerous, it uses too much power!
Edison said: TESLA, you’re AC’s much too strong.
Tesla said: EDISON, you’re DC, it’s all wrong!
Edison said: TESLA, it was just a joke!
Tesla said to EDISON: because of you I’m broke!
Then Edison said to TESLA: Don’t stand there and grouse.
Tesla said to Edison: I’ll work for Westinghouse.
Edison said to Tesla: You’re a geek who’s grapes’ gone sour.
Tesla said back to Edison: I’m gonna build myself a tower!
Marconi claims my radio, Roentgen my x-rays
MY florescent tubes, they work, for those you’re going to pay
Radio control on boats, neon signs they’re mine
And radar, that’s another thing, it’s so very fine
To see the enemy without eyes, you cannot conceive
Of half the things inside my head, you would not believe!
EDISON said Tesla: I’ll block your every move!
TESLA, said Edison: You’re going to have to prove
That your designs are strictly yours, from no one else’s brain.
And that you cannot do, you simp, and so you will refrain
From all your nasty little tricks to stop me, I emplore.
(Tesla said) You pimp yourself, your staff, your friends,
Old Man, I’m not your whore!
Edison worked his staff, he has a place in time.
Tesla on the other hand has been much maligned.
Tesla or Edison, the story’s old and dried.
Edison or Tesla? HA, you decide!
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10. |
Steampunk is Dead
02:32
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Steampunk is dead. Steampunk is dead. Long live steampunk.
If you listen to them closely, and you really ought to try
You can hear them say amongst themselves they know the reason why
Steampunk is dead. (I don’t think so) Steampunk is dead.
“Its been around for much too long, mainstream’s got a hold,
Top hats topped with goggles, the look is getting old.
And the bustles and the corsets are an over-worked detail.
Common sense by everyone should certainly prevail…
Steampunk is dead. But wait! What’s this! I don’t think it’s dead at all!
Just ask the thousands at WORLD’S FAIR if they’re really dead…
They’ll look at you in pity then question what you said!
From attendees to the vendors to the hotel staff included
They’ll talk amongst themselves, you see, as if you’re quite deluded.
Steampunk is dead… NOT!
TESLACON is much the same, with thousands in submersion.
Steampunks dead? HA, not quite, it’s your personal perversion
Of the world the way you want it, it’s your oh, so jaded vision
That you’re most entitled to but that’s your own decision.
No way in hell is Steampunk DEAD!
SYMPOSIUMS, and OCTOPODS and GOOD QUEEN MARY, too
Do draw them by the thousands and just twixt me and you
I do not think that you’re correct with your supposition
I think you’ve got an addled brain, at least that’s my position.
Steampunk is NOT DEAD… IT’S ALIVE!
Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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11. |
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"Coney Island" addresses the idyllic "weekend at the shore"... picnic baskets, the boardwalk, Bizbo the Strongman, family values, the Tunnel of Love, Montauk and a freak hurricane
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12. |
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Lyrics © LMJ3/Steampunkfunk Bizarre
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Steampunk Funk Bizarre/Lord MontyJacques III
International purveyor of Victorian Funk, Rap and assorted lyrical conundrums, Monty mixes Victorian subject matter with danceable funk backbeat. He has created an entirely new Steampunk sound that offers a delicious confection of funk, soul and just plain fun! American based, Steampunk Chronicles' "Person to Watch/2013" has toured the UK, DE, Holland, Luxemburg, NZ with lots more to come! ... more
Contact Steampunk Funk Bizarre/Lord MontyJacques III
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