The Krakatoa Sessions

by Megan Lynch

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1.
I've been making like a pendulum Just swinging to and fro Oh, he loves me He loves me not You know, it's like to give me vertigo This time I think, "You'll reap just what you sow. You've got yourself one bad stud." Then you go and nip it in the bud Ever since the first time I saw you My heart's been hammering in my chest But every time I make headway with you My superego says, "Give it a rest" I wanna serenade you but I come out Sounding like Elmer Fudd Who'd blame you if you Nipped it in the bud? You think my life is cigareets, whiskey & I'm a wild, wild woman But how can I show you That ain't the way I'm living? 'Cause I drink Dubonnet I keep cigareets at bay And I've got a sex life like Doris Day So if I sidle up to you I'm just pretending you're a single man I'm just hoping and praying For the day that I won't be an also-ran Maybe someday you'll be free And my name won't be mud Then you won't have to nip it in the bud
2.
02:59
Do you ever wish that you could dive into the dirt? It would swallow you whole Hide you from the hurt When you confuse your mouth With another orifice You've been embraced In a moron's emetic kiss Oh, who could have known That the words that I said Would burn Like a molten arrowhead? I know now Just how they cut deep But I didn't let them steep Before I let them through What a bitter brew What a bitter brew Open your mouth And insert your foot I watch the water gurgle Like a tongueless mute I could lunge back For that moment in time And wish that I were as Wordless as a mime
3.
Kohl-rimmed eyes Oh, how romantic! Those kohl-rimmed eyes They've got me frantic I croon I swoon I moon Those eyes, that face Have brought me to ruin Black slapshoes Who could've known That my heart they'd bruise? I thought it was my own That hat Brickbat Those spats I know you'll give them Tit for tat I fall in love just like falling out of bed It's a habit But with each pratfall I thought I'd laugh 'til I was dead Dagnabbit White-washed face It's got me sighing All over the place I'm nearly dying I yearn I burn I'm a furnace As my stricken heart Quickens its pace Slight pursed lips They're so inviting Those dancer's hips And there's no fighting I saw They draw They're law They're nothing short of worthy of awe When I saw your bean on that silver screen It was magic Though smooth as silk You're a vanished ilk I find that tragic

about

What started as a demo to get work singing on songwriters' demos evolved into some kind of bizarre hybrid with me singing my own songs but in a more produced style.

credits

released September 9, 1998

Vocals - Megan Lynch; Music, arrangements, production by Brendan Lynch
www.meganlynch.net
twitter.com/may_gun

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Megan Lynch South Pasadena, California

Megan Lynch is equally at home singing her original compositions, Tin Pan Alley, rock, pop, country, blues, light opera, and various world musics. She uses a full palette of thrums, yelps, croons, yodels, growls and ululations in order to paint the picture called for by the song. ... more

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