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Wilco A M Demos 04 Pick Up The Change.mp3
4shared.com ext: .mp3 2 MB date: 2012-05-25
Source title: wilco a m demos 04 pick up the change (2.8 mb) download
Wilco A M Demos 04 Pick Up The Change
http://rapidlibrary.com/files/wilco-a-m-demos-04-pick-up-the-change-mp3_37637597.html
Wilco A M Demos 04 Pick Up The Change.mp3
4shared.com ext: .mp3 2 MB date: 2010-06-23
Source title: pick up the change - 4shared.com download free
Wilco A M Demos 04 Pick Up The Change
http://search.4shared.com/q/AigCAw/1/pick+up+the+change
Video results for:pick up the change mp3 
JoePro - So Real Part improv, part fragmented verses, all put (More) Part improv, part fragmented verses, all put together and recorded in less than an hour.
Free mp3 download:
http://www.zshare.net/audio/111827995a117eb9/
Another recent song: "Unsung": http://www.zshare.net/audio/107079399ce59b5f/
"So Real" Lyrics:
I'm like a fucking budding flower with the dew drops still on me
you can pick me up and flaunt me if you want to
I'm sitting here, so unknown, so ungrown
with so much going for me and so much to go
Ive got so much life in me, life that hasnt even surfaced
Ive got worlds of life in me, galaxies and universes
Ive got so much time its fucking beautiful, Im just a kid
I still have yet to begin, no'n to lose, so much to win
but I feel like I'm fucking going insane
through the pain and strain of feeling my hope drain
I feel now like I can't possibly succeed
at ANY fucking thing I try
is this the way the world hangs out people to dry?
are you telling me I shouldn't even try?
cause for so much blinding hope and huge attempts
I'm pretty much still in the same place in any sense
and its gotten to the point where my fragmented thoughts
can only stay out of insanity by banging on pots
by clinging to some shred of a beat
so I can keep telling myself I've still got something ahead of me
but what can you do to change a world that ignores you
it would even be better if it deplores you
so at least you're making a difference at least you've been aknowledged
you ain't just being sucked into the monotonous scheme of college
I aint just the realest rapper, Im the realest person you'll ever meet
I aint a picture perfect image encased in gems so fresh and neat,
the way you see me in videos is the same as in person,
I dont wear a different suit for the million different shots or the verses
what is this rhyming this rapping
this need to write
the need to accomplish enormous feats of might
this need to hear and see and touch and taste beauty
this need to succeed is above all my duty
this need to put beats down on the sheet
and feel 'em rip through the surface and come alive for me
Im describing it as best I can
but my mind works a million miles an hour faster than my hand
ITS SO FRESH BECAUSE ITS REAL, SO REAL BECAUSE ITS FRESH
just wait for me to get this dark and heavy shit off my chest
and you'll hear the rest, like you never imagined rap
how bout that, its all about emotions, in fact
so how far away are we...
from this new deity
IM OVERDUE still approaching so belatedly
Just listen to my music, i dont care if you know the sense in it
or if it just gives you a thrill because of how intense it is
or because of whichever part of your life it gives emphasis
but it makes you real no matter for what reason you intended it
I dont need drugs I got my own special recipe
I get high spinning the beats about my destiny
but its a physical addiction, it controls the rest of me
governed by necessity it holds me so messily
This need: the need to feel the beat beneath my feet
to stand alone in a valley with the beat surrounding me
to go alone to the moon and to the bottom of the sea
it awakens all other passions I've never even seen
I CAN FEEL IT WANTING TO BE FUCKING ERUPTING OUT OF ME
but a line is only a single pebble in the pond surrounding me
SO FUCKING LET IT BURST I DON'T CARE IF IT HURTS RESOUNDINGLY
So strap me to the table and attach the cords
and turn the knobs up all the way
I've fought with so many different swords
I could die or get born today (Less)
Janet Kuypers part of poem "Burn It... Janet Kuypers performed this poem in the live (More) Janet Kuypers performed this poem in the live Chicago feature at the Beach Poets (Loyola Beacg, Chicago) August 14th, 2005. Because this is a live venue on the beach, there were no microhpones, and since Janet Kuypers has a bit of distance between her and the camera (and there is also a bit of wind off of Lake Michigan in Chicago) it is often not very easy to hear the poems from this show. But if you want to either see the full show, or hear studio mp3 recordings from this show, go to the web page http://www.janetkuypers.com/janetkuypers-dot-com--files/beach-poets08-14-05.htm to get the sudio clips, or even the chapbook that was released on the same day with this event.
This is the original poem:
Burn It In
Once I was at a beach
off the west coast of Florida
it was New Year's eve
and the yellow moon hung over the gulf
like a swaying lantern.
And I was watching the waves crash in front of me
with a friend
and the wind picked up
and my friend just stared at that moon for a while
and then closed his eyes.
I asked him what he was thinking.
He said, "I wanted to look at this scene,
and memorize it, burn it into my brain,
record it in my mind, so I can call it up when I want to.
So I can have it with me always."
I too have my recorders.
I burn these things into my brain,
I burn these things onto pages.
I pick and choose what needs to be said,
what needs to be remembered.
Every year, at the end of the year
I used to write in a journal
recall the things that happened to me
log in all of the memories I needed to keep
because that was what kept me sane
that was what kept me alive.
When I first went to college
I was studying to be a computer science
engineer, I wanted to make a lot of money
I wanted to beat everyone else
because burned in my brain were the taunts
of kids who were in cliques
so others could do the thinking for them
because burned in my brain were the evenings
of the high school dances I never went to
because burned in my brain were the people
I knew I was better than
who thought they were better than me.
Well, yes, I wanted to make a lot of money
I wanted to beat everyone else
but I hated what I was doing
I hated what I saw around me
hated all the pain people put each other through
and all of these memories just kept flooding me
so in my spare time
to keep me sane, to keep me alive
I wrote down the things I could not say
that was how I recorded things.
When I looked around me, and saw friends
raping my friends
I wrote, I burned into these nightmares with a pen
and yes, I have this recorded
I have all of this recorded.
What did you think I was doing
when I was stuffing hand-written notes into my pockets
or typing long hours into the night?
In college, I had two roommates
who in their spare time would watch movies in our living room
and cross-stitch. I never understood this.
In my spare time, I was not watching other's stories
or weaving thread to keep my hands busy
I was sitting in the corner of a cafe
scribbling into my notebook.
I was sitting in the university computer lab
slamming my hands, my fingers against the keyboard
because there were too many atrocities in the world
too many injustices that I had witnessed
too many people who had wronged me
and I had a lot of work to do.
There had to be a record of what you've done.
Did you think your crimes would go unpunished?
And did you think that you could come back, years later,
slap me on the back with a friendly hello
and think I wouldn't remember?
You see, that's what I have my poems for
so there will always be a record
of what you have done
I have defiled many pages
in your honor, you who swung
your battle ax high above your head
and thought no one would remember in the end.
Well, I made a point to remember.
Yes, I have defiled many pages
and have you defiled many women?
You, the man who rapes my friends?
You, the man who rapes my sisters?
You, the man who rapes me?
Is this what makes you a strong man?
you want to know why I do the things I do
I had to record these things
that is what kept me together
when people were dying
that is what kept me together
when my friends went off to war
that is what kept me together
when my friends were raped
and left for dead
that is what kept me together
when no one bothered to notice this
or change this
or care about this
these recordings kept me together
I need to record these things
to remind myself
of where I came from
I need to record these things
to remind myself
that there are things to value
and things to hate
I need to record these things
to remind myself
that there are things worth fighting for
worth dying for
I need to record these things
to remind myself
that I am alive (Less)
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