Ben Sidran Tribute EP

Don't Cry For No Hipster

Don’t cry for no hipster he knew what he signed up for
The look and the feel that run down appeal
The passing ship the distant shore
Don’t cry for no hipster he saw the writing on the wall
It still gives him hope another slippery slope
A deeper truth he can’t recall
But when young becomes old and cool turns to cold
That’s when we’ll see if that truth set him free
Until then don’t cry for no hipster he had his day he had his night
Call it what it is in a life like his it’s usually wrongs that make it right

He’ll tell you I’m tired of being so hip it’s like waiting for that ship 
That don’t never come in but check out the grin.
No don’t cry for him, don’t cry for no hipster he’s got his hat he’s got his cane
In a world this square disasters everywhere if you can’t laugh at life you’re through
But if you have to cry if you have to cry then make it tears of joy
Because we’re here and then we’re gone and gone is one thing he can do

Thank God for the F Train

When you're dying on the platform from the heat and the smoke

And the skinny girl from Teaneck thinks it's all some kinda joke

Waiting on the G train and the AC is broke

But thank god for the F train

Some people ride to work some people ride to war

Some people got no idea what they're riding for

Some people get on board just because they shut the door

But thank god for the F train

It might be raining on the surface, coming down in sheets

Forget the car service, nothing's moving on the streets

You gotta get to midtown and there's no service on your phone?

Well get yourself a ticket and join the underground

There's a drummer down in Chelsea trying to get to union hall

There's a real estate broker trying to make that conference call

There's a guy selling umbrellas before the prices fall

They all thank god for the F train

There's a politician out hustling up some votes

There's a statistician counting up some goats

Me, I'm wondering what those girls are hiding in their coats

And here comes the river, you think this baby floats?

You can thank old Ronald Reagan for screwing up the skies

And you can thank the boys at NORML for trying to decriminalize

And you can thank that place in Redhook for those fine key-lime pies

But thank god for the F train

About Love

Well, ever since the day that time began

There's been this thing between a woman and a man

Well, I don't know but I do believe it started in the garden with Adam and Eve

Samson and Delilah had their fling until she cut his hair and clipped his wing

It don't matter how the story's told love stays young, it can't grow old

Let me tell you about love let me tell you about love

Let me tell you about love about the moon and stars above

It's what we've all been dreaming of let me tell you about love

Well, Bonaparte and Josephine I believe they had a pretty good scene

Until she said, Bony boy, we're through that's when he met his Waterloo

Julie baby and Romeo fell in love and stole the show

I know they are history but there ain't been nothing like you and me

Let me tell you about love let me tell you about love

Let me tell you about love about the moon and stars above

It's what we've all been dreaming of let me tell you about love

Now Sheba she was a beauty queen the purtiest thing that you ever have seen

Solomon he was a mighty wise until Sheba she done caught his eye

The world would be in a dreadful fix if it wasn't for the love between the cats and chicks

This world wouldn't amount to much without a hug and a kiss and a tender touch

Let me tell you about love let me tell you about love

Let me tell you about love about the moon and stars above

It's what we've all been dreaming of let me tell you about love

Wake Me When It’s Over

Wake me when it’s over tell me when it’s real

Shake me when we get there when they finally do the deal

Wake me when it’s over tell me when it’s done

When they finally voted you can let me know who won

Maybe I’m right, maybe I’m wrong

But too many people just won’t get along

Got nothing to say but saying it louder and louder and louder

And every day hold someone hostage make somebody pay

Wake me when it’s over when the circus leaves our town

When the lions ate the tamer and then finished with the clowns

Maybe I’m right, maybe I’m wrong

But too many people just won’t get along

Got nothing to say but saying it louder and louder and louder

And every day hold someone hostage make somebody pay

The King of Harlem

The rhythm of New York now that’s what he was talking about

The street of New York the beat in the street of New York

Like the heat in New York in the bathhouses, in the back rooms

In the chicken joints and the cotton clubs beneath the buildings, behind the bridges

Beneath the smoke and the moon beneath the beneath but tunneling up

Tunneling up from the dry feet of New York the beat of New York

Now that’s what he was talking about Pena negra that tortured thing

At the heart of the thing deep beneath the thing but rising rising

Like the Charleston Charleston, Charleston the beating heart of New York

That’s what he was talking about the New York Charleston

That wounded pulse at the heart of New York that’s what he was talking about

Throbbing, throbbing beneath the howling moon where the King of Harlem liked to play it

On a wooden spoon up from the streets up from the feets where that great arsenic lobster

Finally learned how to fly and now the moon is just a slice of radiance divine up in the sky

That’s what he was talking about that’s what he was talking about

Go tell Dali go tell Bunuel go tell the millionaires it’s time to sell

The final foot is on the stairs it’s time to drink the silver whisky

Throw the glass into the brine because it’s time it’s time, it’s time, it’s time in New York

You got no time Baby you got nothing but time you’re hushed by time, crushed by time

Now that’s what he was talking about Pena negra that tortured thing at the heart of the thing

Deep beneath the thing but rising, rising from bathhouses and backrooms

Like refugees they arrived on broken ships and departed with little more than their wits

Ay! Dios mio a broken moon and the word was rising, rising

That’s what he was talking about now that’s what he was talking about

Go tell Dali go tell Bunuel go tell the millionaires it’s time to sell

The final foot it’s on the stairs the spire of smoke is in the air

El mascaron! El mascaron Mirad el mascaron from Africa to the backrooms and backstairs

Of cotton clubs and chicken joints in the moment of dry things and dead things

The beat of New York no retreat in New York from the heat in New York relentless relentlessly

Without mercy across wired bridges above skyscrapers Un milagro! Assesinado por el cielo

A broken moon Howling! Howling El mascaron, el mascaron

A wounded pulse a broken tune now that’s what he was talking about

A is for Alligator

Maybe there’s a way to let the alligator play inside the bathtub

Maybe there’s a way that we can play inside the bathtub too

Maybe there’s a song that you and I can sing along about the bathtub

But if there is it’s just a song about the day that we were alligators too

Once there was a time when all the animals would climb inside the bathtub

The monkey and the lion and the zebra and the alligator too

Once there was a game that all the animals would play inside the bathtub

But now the only game we play is you eat me or baby I’ll eat you

Maybe that’s the reason people finally had to build themselves a zoo

They call it New York City but it’s just another alligator stew

Now you and I are alligators too you and I are alligator stew