Slow Dance

by Art Sorority for Girls

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1.
01:34
2.
02:43
3.
03:14
4.
04:55
5.
6.
03:19
7.
02:55
8.
04:06
9.
05:12
10.

credits

released 12 October 2011
Words and music by Daoud Tyler-Ameen. Recorded and mixed by Major Matt Mason USA at Olive Juice Music. Additional tracking by Casey Holford at Good One Music, Dan Costello at Brooklyn Tea Party, Mark Ospovat at Emandee Recording and Niklas Jansen at Bear Cave Studio. Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side Music. Photo by Sarah Talia Himmelfarb.

Performed and arranged by DTA with Angela Carlucci, Mike Campbell, Andrew Hoepfner, Dibson T. Hoffweiler, Casey Holford, Susan Hwang, Niklas Jansen, Matt Katz, Matt Keesan, Yoko Kikuchi, Sam Langevin, Sara Lautman, Isabel Martin, Dylan Pasture, Kyle Resnick, Matt Roth, Stefanie Schrank and Björn Sonnenberg. Horn arrangements by Kyle Resnick and Kevin Kelly.

With love: Mom, Sarah, good friends. In memory of Helen and Emma.

©2011 Daoud Tyler-Ameen | Alpha Sigma Gamma
www.artsorority.com

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Track Name: Slow Dance
We slow dance in slow motion
We coast on charm and looks
And it feels like here’s no one watching
And it feels so, it feels so, it feels so, it feels so good
Track Name: Norma Jean
Dear Sir with love: Tell my father I can’t see him anymore
And to his lovely wife, I hope I get to meet you soon
Dear Sarah Jane: We can hide the body under my front porch
Honk twice at midnight if you think we’re best off sticking with the plan
I wouldn’t be so shy, but my girlfriends are always dying
I feel their fathers’ eyes; they choke me when I try to fall asleep
Dear Highland Park: Since it seems I won’t be coming out this year
Take my engagement ring and place it on the grave
Dear Norma Jean: Every song gets better once you’ve heard it twice
I tried to tell you, but the words came out like poison pills again
I wouldn’t be so shy, but my hands are both made of metal
And I would explain it, but I talk through a distortion pedal
Hard-to-get is hard when every kiss feels like reverse transcription
Arguments are over once they’re overacted and overanalyzed
Track Name: My Father
My father calls on Sunday evenings
Children are suffering somewhere, living in a boldfaced lie
And they all probably have my eyes
My father says he’s turned his life around
The devil was dragging him down
But he prayed until the dark lord vanished
Now his screenplay’s almost finished
My father’s got great taste in ovaries
Over and over he’s charmed his way into a nice girl’s heart
But he always leaves before the hardest part
You wonder how I got so feminine
Well, what have I learned about men?
You laugh at that and I do too
You say you’re sad, but glad I told you
And now I kiss your shoulder
And now you stroke my hair
Your daddy buys you ice cream
My daddy’s on the welfare
My father swears we’ll be together soon
Maybe once in a blue moon he sends along a birthday present
It feels so trite, but hey, what doesn’t?
My father calls on Sunday evenings
Pauses for effect and says, “Church was great today!”
Track Name: Josephine
I’m too old to get divorced
Better stay the course
‘Cause before long, I’ll be waking up tired every day
I’m too old to make new friends
Better make amends
Time to empty out the junk drawer
For those kinder words I used to say
And so I make my case on scented stationary
Sad and sweet, like a canary with a cold
Did I break my promise?
I’ve just been so nervous
Think I lost a hair for every lie I told
But I’d hate to think that this might be
The last thing that I say to you
I still could run away with you
If you’ll meet me in a dream
And I’m so silly since I met you, honey
I sing myself asleep
You have made an old man happy, Josephine
And I remember Central Park
You were waiting for the carousel to start
Sidesaddle, so you wouldn’t tear your homemade skirt
You had a ponytail and a pink t-shirt
And I remember visiting
The dorm on 57th Street
And the other girls on the frisbee team
Who thought I was your dad
And it’s safe to say that this might be
The hardest thing I’ll ever do
Perhaps someday I’ll send for you
Assuming I’m alive
All those silly things we told each other
We meant them at the time
Now we mean them more than ever
Track Name: Cecil B. DeMille, pt. 3
This is the last time we back down
It’s getting too big now to ignore it
We saw the knock-down, the drag-out
We knew the dead men who paid for it
We’ve heard the tough talk of dead letters
But this is the ding-dong, the doorbell
What do you do when the stock plummets?
You break out the eight-track and raise hell
We are the tick-tock, the time bomb
We wanna protest, but can’t show it
This is the recluse, the goth girl
This is the rebel, the punk poet
We are the ones who react first
We never speak till the last moment
We’ve seen the wise ones at their worst
We know what happens if we blow it
We are the sunset, the soft kiss
We are the children who came from it
We are the names on the NOC list
We are the tune that you’re still humming
This is the wasteland, the malltown
These are the things we can do for it
We are the backbeat, the breakdown
We are the buildup, the last chorus
This is the love song you write down
When you wake up with no plans and no money
This is the joke that you pass down
When you hear it the tenth time, it’s still funny
We are the ones who react first
We know what happens if we blow it
We know for a fact that it gets worse
And there’s nothing to do now but keep going
Track Name: Victoria
In Culver City, they would say that you were dead
A committee would convene to pick your casket from a catalog
The power structure comes to rear its ugly head
But the chorus in the kitchen will be cheering for the underdog
Stay wrong, stay wrong, stay wrong
Don’t be frightened by the premises we ponder on the premises
Roll on, roll on, roll on
Antiperspirant is integral to everything we’re fighting for tonight
So sell yourself a self-effacing alibi
It’s a practical alternative to living in the present tense
Consult the experts on assisted suicide
They will bludgeon you with circumstantial, anecdotal evidence
Sixteen, sixteen, sixteen
Now we strain to hear the echoes of the pre-Madonna radio
Stay mean, stay mean, stay mean
‘Cause if the girls decide to talk to us, then what will there be left to talk about?
Accept the profits and return the pity prize
You’ll be sorry when the nation gets a Christmas card from Avalon
The years will teach you not to carp or criticize
Lest you find yourself rewarded with a parcel from the pentagon
And you’ll remember from the battle of the bulge
How to preach the ways of history books and save yourself the sabotage
Forsake the glory war and practice to indulge
Just remember to repent before you wrap yourself in camouflage
Victoria, your name is in our hearts
Victoria, will you come home and save us?
Track Name: Anna
Anatomically Correct
She used that body like a cashier’s check
You folded like a tablecloth
Whenever her T-shirt came off
Anaphylactic Shock
She shook your ticker to its very last tock
Your nerves all shot like silly string
The end was near, the end was nothing new
I’ve got Anamorphic Widescreen
And I can’t complain about the view
The Animaniacs are everywhere
And everybody knows they don’t stay true
But I can’t help pretending — Anna, I love you
Remember when the shit got rough
And Anabolic had to act so tough
There ain’t no shame in confidence
But there damn sure is some in violence
So never, ever lend CDs
‘Cause Anaconda’s gonna squeeze, squeeze, squeeze
Like everything’s her property
She won’t say please, she won’t say sorry
Anorexia Nervosa
The thinning hair, those hollow, hungry eyes
The Animaniacs are everywhere
And everybody knows that they tell lies
But I can’t help believing — Anna, I’m your guy
Track Name: We Are Seven
When the bells ring on Sunday, we go to the park
And we watch the week ending
And the bells keep on ringing until it gets dark
Hear the constables cursing
And the building we live in is tiny and old
Like a Volkswagen beetle
And the district attorney, he lives right next door
And he waves from the window
And we are but seven, and seven we are
And we each are named after a different car
And the man who delivers our mail has a scar
But he tells us he likes it
And the baby is Chrysler, and she’s only two
And she lives in a cradle
And we haven’t quite figured what mom and dad do
When they leave in the morning
And the buses are always a little bit late
But the shops open early
And the bells ring exactly at seven past eight
And again at eight-thirty
When the weathervane spins, we all lay in our beds
And the thunder sounds just like the bells in our heads
And the sunsets are yellow and purple and red
And we’re happy to see them
Track Name: The Graduate
Graduate to better things: square feet and income tax
You go back to where you came from
And you can’t seem to relax
Before you know it, everyone you know lives in New York
Once they find your favorite coffee shop
You just can’t go there anymore
And mixtapes get much harder once your friends have indie cred
The weekend’s twice as lonely when you spend it half in bed
And the Facebook folks get worried you don’t love ‘em anymore
But it’s nothing against them
It’s just getting accustomed takes some time
There’s a party in your memory
Where you met your college queen
But you’ve left the party circuit
For the after-party scene
And finding someone friendly’s not as tough as you expect
But distraction gets the best of you
Sometimes this city stinks like sex
And when you’re feeling confident, you drop it like it’s hot
And sometimes you’re a gentleman, and sometimes you are not
And your girlfriend’s friends don’t seem to know how beautiful they are
And it’s out of the question
But it’s hard not to mention, so let ‘em know
First-timer, new guy
Firstname dot lastname
I know I’ve seen you somewhere
What are you up to these days?
And everyone needs time to get it right, or so you’ve heard
You’re on your second internship and looking for a third
Your ex-classmates are writing for the magazines you read
And the Gmail logo’s permanently burned into your screen
And sometimes San Francisco seems like it’d be worth a try
You might as well get comfortable and let it pass you by
But you know damn straight no other place you find will feel like home
It’s a grand old adventure
Nothing gained, nothing ventured
Track Name: Tree Of Sympathy
The tree of sympathy is older than us; older than we can count
The tree of sympathy has pretty much figured it out
The tree of sympathy is full of advice; filled with good things to say
The tree of sympathy feels better for letting you stay
The tree of sympathy is delicate; wisdom comes with a price
The tree of sympathy is vanishing before your eyes
The tree of sympathy was beautiful once; that was before the day
The tree of sympathy gave half of its beauty away
The tree of sympathy forgives you
The tree of sympathy will miss you more than you’ll ever know
The tree of sympathy feels better for letting you go