justintyhme

Today the angel 
That was watching over me
Packed her bags and headed home

Everybody tells me
Hey life goes on
But I really just don't know

But now I know oh I know
How it feels to be this all alone
And my angel oh my angel
Oh my angel my angels headed home

They all tell me that’s just part of life
It don’t help me much
It still cuts like a knife

And sister
She’s gonna miss her
First time that she calls her on the phone

If you listen to the stuff we put on here over a year ago.  It’s obvious we used too much vocal effects.  It’s like taking pills….little by little we use less and less.  I have come to the conclusion reverb is amateur schtuff to hide imperfections and that a pro sound for vocals is compression and EQ only. 

I’m looking for someone who has done pro recordings to see if they concur.

He found it in the Badlands
Sparkling in the desert sand
Just an old shot glass
My friend

Told me bout a movie star
Met the reaper didn’t get that far
And all his Hollywood buddies
Met at the place he crashed his car

And they all gathered in the sand
Each had a shot glass in his right hand
They were drinking coke and crown
They held it up and drank it down

I’ve got a feeling you’ve been here before
Was it you who met the reaper at the door
Every night you saddle up that white horse in your dreams
Put on your long tall hat and chase your memories

I’ve got a silent movie
Playing in my mind
It’s been tainted
By the stains of time

I’ve been all around the world
And I’ve seen all kinds of signs
Never comprehending
All the things I’ll never find

Every time I hold it up
I’ll toast the memory
Every time I drink it down
It knocks me to my knees

Every night it’s the same old thing
He’s there before the first bell rings
All night long he plays the dogs
And he says he can beat the odds

Rabbit runs the dog gets burned
Bumped in the corner in the second turn
Throws his tickets on the ground
The bartender buys him one more round

Chorus

We played golf at Papago
You could see the track from the 18th hole
Across the street the credit window
He’d get money than he should owe

Buy a program, figure the stats
He’d say that’s just a matter of math
Throws his tickets on the ground
The bartender buys him one more round

Chorus

S.R.P. turned off his lights
Lost his job and lost his wife
She took the kids and moved to Idaho
He’ll be back to the track again I know
Shouting 1 3 8 dog come ‘on greyhound go

Lost all my direction
Like a feather in the wind
I lost my concentration
From the moment you walked in

Reality's perception
My illusion's wearing thin
If I’m not the man your after
I’ll always think I should have been

Loneliness my affliction
My cure was so long gone
Then I saw you on the dance floor
Dancing to the song

Chorus

All the busted pieces
Of my life are scattered round
Some are lost forever
And never will be found

In the bag that holds my puzzle
There are pieces that are wrong
They could never fit together
There’s some that don’t belong

Bartender, pour me one
Just like the other one
Tonight I’m hanging
With my old friend Jose Cuervo

Chorus

Any day any day
I’ll find a way
Just like John Wayne
I’ll save the day