Well, there’s a house on the dark side of Windermere
With countless broken childhoods inside
Spent twisted refuge there for the better part of a year
Jackhammering my heart to recover what has died
And who’s the blonde girl reluctantly posing for my camera
She and I were the subject of a magnum opus
I once went heels over head for her but now she’s a flash of ephemera
Intentionally falling out of focus
With a martyr for a sister and an untamed colt for a brother
Ain’t no wonder she’s like a chameleon or gecko
Climbing the walls and changing colors this way or the other
What I once loved her for is now just an echo
Here she comes parading the latest edition of herself
Transatlantic jet setting, synonymous with dad’s wealth
Here’s to the old childhood crush, forever in good health
She jumped the last train to bliss
And left me wandering on the tracks behind her
Spellbound through the pines.
You know sometimes quiet is better for the muse
Than all the loud music, rock’n’roll and blues
Starts you thinking about all the lovers you once knew
And sometimes you get so introspective
There’s nothing left but to hurl some invective
At the four walls, ‘cause no one else will listen to you
Cruise down to the pines to try to unwind
But those images clutter up your mind
Try to snag them all before it’s “thar she blows!”
Thumbscrew your brain to solve these riddles
While it’s taking you so long to drive so little
Down these fashtinkeneh South Jersey country roads
It’s not enough to dream your dream
You gotta chase her down and run after her
You gotta sing your song, do your dance
Mesmerize and enrapture her
You’ve got to get out there and capture her
Or else she’ll abscond one night on the redeye
and drop no hints as to where to find her.
Spellbound through the pines
Where the sun rarely shines
Roadside attractions and shrines
34,789 white lines
Spellbound through the pines
Spellbound through the pines
Read between the lines
What’s yours and what is mine.
It’s so hard to think of summer beach town rock’n’roll at times
When you’re in the employee lounge with Xmas music dulling your mind
When the snow falls in waves two dozen times a season
It’s so hard to feel the summer but you’ve got to find a reason
So you go downtown to hear the folksingers kvetch
Yowling and howling in a storm of contrived protest
Or you go on up to West End to watch the moshers get mished
While some turbohardgrindthrashcore band shifts gears into mindsquish
And so you put together a band to join those dispossessed romantics
To stand onstage and rage in your histrionic antics
You know Lakewood isn’t so far away from Point Pleasant Beach
The yeshiva and the boardwalk are just a hagba arm’s reach
But you won’t find no bochurs by the merry-go-round
No learning going on so this place is out of bounds
While the black hats bang their heads to expound their cosmic truth
While they clam up, dam up, jam up to repress their vital youth
The boardwalk rats wander the planks in search of noisy thrills
The teen nomads and arcade animals close in for their kills
And me, I’m just another number on a wheel of fortune
Spinning endlessly in full sight of the amusement park
Till one day my number will hit the lucky mark
In a railroad car diner out on Route 33
In a rotary HoJo’s on the boards down by the sea
In a backseat parked in the abandoned Shore Drive-In
In a backroom off the boulevard, in the old Tides Inn
In a sleeping diesel rigyard out in the boonies of Neptune
In a Wanamassa schoolyard underneath the August moon
In a reconstructed racetrack on Rt 9 in old Freehold
In an overgrown suburban lot on Schoolhouse Road
In a dimly lit casino by the whirlwind roulette wheel
Or by the blackjack table when the tux dude starts to deal
In a sandcastle fleabag in the sleazy rainbow lounge
At the foot of the fire station when the godawful siren sounds
On a shoulder off Rt 34 in Earle when the charges go off
In a song-and-dance meeting when the squeaky wheel group coughs
In the Bar A smoky upstairs squeezed between the bar and rail
In the dark depths of the Pinelands way off the beaten trail
In the Land of Screaming Chevvies around the upturned ship’s bottom
In the honky-tonk Shangri-La where all the promises are forgotten
In the belly of the abandoned temple to the sound of the howling organ
At the scene of the latest mayhem behind the police cordon
In a shelter from the noonday heat under the Casino Pier
Where the sand drops to the sea and the lines of sight are smeared
In between the bowling pin pilings neatly stacked
In the calm beneath the amusement sounds filtering through the cracks
Where secret debts are paid
Clandestine deals relayed
Commitments up for trade
Illicit feelings conveyed
So-called reality delayed
Cost of twelve years defrayed
Foundations are laid
To smash through the blockade
Where schemes are promulgated
Where dreams are consummated
Where vows are abrogated
Where love is dedicated
WHERE THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD IS DETONATED!
I’ll jump off my mooring and make up my mind
And finally figure out this spellbinder
Spellbound through the pines.
©2024 The Hesh Inc.
This is a record of my wanderings and observations as I tried putting my life back together after getting upended by divorce in Boston and moving to an uncertain but hopeful future at the Jersey Shore. I was exploring my new environs while trying to come to terms with what I had left behind.
Musically, this started off as a meandering monologue à la Lou Reed circa his New York album, but within several years after my arrival at the Shore, I had joined a reggae band, the Midnight Ravers, and became much more familiar with the reggae and ska genres than I'd ever imagined I'd get. So in a projected recording of this song, the first verse would be Reedian musing/brooding, but then the reggae would kick in for the next several verses. The last verse ("In a railroad car diner ...") would be a furious , ass-kicking ska jam, culminating in an explosive sound effect right after "... DETONATED!" and I finish the last several lines in a manner akin to Manfred Mann's Earth Band at the end of its biggest hit. The song occupies a central part of my Soul In Exile magnum opus, in the "dark night of the soul" portion, the second of its three parts. The whole opus probably won't be recorded as I had originally envisioned and anthologized it, but it will likely be recorded as part of a series of EPs that make up the continuation of the series I started with my first album. Hopefully I'll be able to gather together the reggae musicians I had such a good time with in the Ravers and give it an authentic spin instead of trying to simulate the legendary one-drop.
Comments