Happy Birthday

by Seth Ashley Cowan

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released 09 April 2010

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Track Name: Island
I'd be happy on an Island, far away from all the people here.
I'd be surrounded by the ocean, and the waters would be crystal clear.
But, I'd miss all of my friends and family, so I'd paint faces on the rocks and on the palm trees.
And, we'd talk about whatever we want to, and then we'd party nightly.
'Cause, on my Island these would be the only things that we would have to do.

I'd feel guilty 'cause I'd have to build a house out of the friends I made.
I wouldn't want to have to chop them down. They would probably feel betrayed.
So, I would just borrow some leaves in stead, build a hammock, and sleep with the stars over my head.
And, I'd dream about a home in the city, 'cause there's nothing but the rocks and trees surrounding me and it might make me blue.

Feeling less guilty 'bout the trees now, I'd build a boat and paddle to the shore,
rent an appartment in Chicago, pick up the life that I had had before.
Grocery shop and take the bus where I have to go. Go out on the town with the city lights aglow.
Call up My friends whenever I want to, but when the weather's nice, my little Island, I will always think of you.
Track Name: For Mr. Thomas
From faded newsprint used to wrap a fish
Inscrutably the muse selects your face
While I sit drinking namelessly in a nameless bar
Five thousand miles and thirty years away

With all the usual ceremonial you were crowned one night
King of the field where doctors nail the cows
To make of the cock`s quill the right of language
And the pricking heart a sword against the hours

Let smirking scholars writhe in their favoured bondage
To hold you plaintiff to the charge of art
Exhibit A: he falls on legendary lines
Singing mother I want a bullet in the heart

The judge in me sucks eggs and jerks the sacred meat
For the boy in me still dreams in Milk Wood town
Like two provincial bastards playing the galleries
I hold your photo to the mirror upside down

As bacon wafts through hungry streets, your ghost pervades
Just like an old ex-boxer aged twenty two
Staged up like Falstaff or the wild Welsh Rimbaud
You`d laugh to see these monochromes they make of you

Ah Mr. Thomas let us ramble through the midnight fair
Let us throw old bottles at the ferris wheel
Let us paint library on the library let us raid the moonlight
Let us steal away whatever we are supposed to steal

While the border guards check cards with their poker faces
Never mind who is winning but the stakes are rare
If this jack of thorns they let us hold outbids the joker
Let us sneak higher till the frost clings in our hair

Let us watch while the days grow daily more mundane
That rough god go striding with his shears
Hack wide the bellies of the swollen mountains
And rip molten heroes forth to their furious tears
Track Name: Bt the Light of the Quarter Moon
Instrumental
Track Name: Heavy Like A Feather
Instrumental
Track Name: Rainbow Falls
I'd like to see the sun from where ever it is I lie,
without the walls or windows between me and the powder blue sky.
Where the wind is kind of whistling through the bushes on the hill.
I can't quite put my finger on the tune but I get the feeling that I will.
I can see how green the grass grows on each side of the crystal clear blue river.
And the water fall's a shimmering with sunlight beams refracting into every color.
The water pounding on the rocks will be my little choir singing if this is where I'll be when you recall.
Each flower blooming in the spring will be a little church bell ringing if my scattered ashes lie at Rainbow Falls.

I'd like to see the clouds through the branches of the trees,
and try to name the shapes they make, floating on and sculpted by the breeze.
And, every single Autumn I'll watch the season spread
from a little patch of yellow leaves into a hundred shades of fiery red.
And, when the snow starts falling and the river slowly hardens, turning into ice.
The animals will hibernate and I will find the solitude and stillness rather nice.
The snow lies down like linen spread across the smokey mountain if it's e'er to be my place of rest after all.
Each memory for those who know me be this frozen fountain if you scatter my remains at Rainbow Falls.
Track Name: Happy Birthday
Am I getting old
if I feel young
Well, Happy Birthday anyway
for whome this song is sung.

Closer to death
but one year wiser
the rickety wrack of brick-a-brack
on which my years are hung

But, paper hats and cocktails
won't take me back
to the comfort of the past.

And, a giant cake with a hundred candles
will never make this
pleasant moment last.

But, it fills me up inside
to hear you say
that I'm valued as a friend
and Happy Birthday.


So much time
that has been wasted.
Adventures nearly taken
and fruits left untasted.

But, all I've done
is who I am.
The piece of art the collage
upon which ever action is pasted.

But, memorials and photographs
are just Exhibit A
so the jury still deliberates.

All the loneliness and pride,
all the things I try to hide,
I can only seem to intimate.

But, it fills me up inside
to hear you say
that I'm valued as a friend
and Happy Birthday.


I hope you know
how much it means
to find a human being
amongst so many machines;

and, who can see
a sense of style,
objet de art, and fancy cars
don't amount to a hill of beans.

But, once a year you can see it clear
the friendships that fade
and relationships that are torn;

But, there's one or two who think of you
and let you know
they appreciate that you were born.

And, if fills me up inside
to hear them say
that I'm valued as a friend
and Happy Birthday.