Showing posts with label Lyrics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lyrics. Show all posts

Turbine Lyrics

Video: About the Lyrics


18th and 19th century text compiled by Byron Au Yong (bibliography below)
I PRELUDE
1A By the Trees
soft
whispering
the stream there
trembling
round your steps

1B In the Gazebo 
clear
whispering air
timid call
swell
melting

1C Near the River 
bitter
light
strength
beneath the sky
serene

1D Around the Plaza 
balmy zephyr
frozen
come
rest
with slow steps
II GRAND PLAZA
2.1 Gilman 
through dark
channels
feel the cool
wheels rolled
iron arms
feel the cool
breaking out
roar
2.1A Dickens 
and
jerked about
turned on
poured off

2.1B Twain 
wheels 
first bridge
fine dam
pump-house

2.1C Power 
welling through the pipes deluging thirsty streets 
cleanliness
neatness
comfort
pure

2.1D Finch 
intersect
right lines
right angles
squares
trees
space

2.1E Murray 
power
steam
gracefully
peaceful city 
2.2 Quadrille Chorus 
Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce, and Pine 
2.2 Quadrille Caller 
right & left four
balance & turn
ladies chain
half promenade
forward & back
cross over
chassez de chassez
back again
all round
back to back
read to the right
chassez out
form the ring
all forward
back turn partners
two give right
cross over two
six hands round
turn partners
III GEARS
in a simple handsome building
a wall of solid rock
two points give passage to a stream
clear and bright as crystal
in a stone basin: a cup for the thirsty traveller
inexhaustible supply
from this reservoir 
cylinders and pistons
miraculous mechanical
34 Pumps
Check Valve Seat
Seat Ring Sewer Valve
Ring for Compressor
Eddy
3-25 Piston Ring
Buck-eye Engine
8 Filling Flange
Rachet on Shop Crane
6 Joint Bureau
M.G.D. Motor
IV PAVILLION
4.1-4.2 A Drop (Story Telling) 
gentle friend
a hidden stream
goes playfully 
yesterday
haunting thoughts
beneath the glowing sun 
a drop pulses
then another and darker
torn one by one and sold 
calling
twilight
parting 
4.3 The Guilty (Sadness) 
if the clouds
shadow
the guilty 
how then
the fluttering wings
the voice of grief

lost ones
beseeching breath
poured out 
4.4 Moon (Moonlight) 
moon
heaven
faintly glimmering 
how soft the beam
the gloom of night

star spangled glory
whisper to me
tell what awaits 
4.5 Flood (Schuylkill) 
leaping
deep and shaded pool
dimpled 
old trees lift their tall heads against the sky

mournful echo
when the hush
steals the calm 
oh how one charmed word will start a thousand breathing memories 
flood
4.6 Transition (ASTRÆA) 
loved by stars
a granite ledge
to gaze from the sea’s edge
there for purging light
there for purifying storms
its depths reflect all forms
justice journeying to harbor
V RIVER
afloat fair city
through the gathering like a strong giant that has just received the breath of life
I shall never forget

ding ding ding
what have we here?
a ruddy face with a clear honest eye
and the noble ship breaks proudly through the water…
Bibliography
I PRELUDE
· Critical and Poetical Works, John Penn (1797) 
II GRAND PLAZA
· The Poetry of Traveling in the United States, Caroline Howard Gilman (1838)
· American Notes for General Circulation, Charles Dickens (1913)
· Mark Twain’s Letters, Mark Twain (1853-1866)
· Impressions of America, Tyrone Power (1836)
· Travels in the United States of America and Canada, John Finch (1833)
· Travels in North America, Charles Augustus Murray (1834-1836)
· The Fairmount Quadrilles, John Hewitt (1836)
· Gazetteer of the United States of America, John Hayward (1854) 
III GEARS
· Travels in the United States, Alexander Mackay (1846-1847)
· Domestic Manners of Americans, Francis Trollope (1832)
· Transatlantic Sketches, Captain J.E. Alexander (1833)
· Inscriptions on Templates for Turbine Parts, Philadelphia Water Department (1920s)
IV PAVILLION
· Essays, Philanthropic and Moral, Elizabeth Margaret Chandler (1836)
· Early Poems, Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) 
V RIVER
· American Notes for General Circulation, Charles Dickens (1913)
Video: History of the Fairmount Water Works with Adam Levine


Special Thanks
Adam Levine (Philadelphia Water Department), Karen Young (Fairmount Water Works), Leah Stein, Library Company of Philadelphia

Kidnapping Water reflections

Last Sunday, Betsy Baeskens, Stuart McLeod and I performed excerpts from Kidnapping Water: Bottled Operas for the Seattle Symphony Day of Music. Betsy sang 14 Bottled Operas in six sections while Stuart and I played the water with bamboo poles, plastic bags, gongs, plastic bottles, crotales and bamboo buzzers. Here's our set list:
  1. Taking Time
  2. Red Drops / Ride a Cloud / Floating
  3. Droplets / Translucence / Image / Growing
  4. Disease-Love / Yellow Polka Dot / Swim Swim Swim
  5. Bounce / Withered Lilac
  6. Summer Tea

We performed in the Garden of Remembrance. This public memorial designed by Robert Murase includes reflecting pools and two waterfalls amidst black granite slabs carved with the names of almost 8,000 war veterans. Our set ended with Summer Tea (lyrics by Carola Luther).
Summer Tea
未濟 Wèi Jì |¦|¦|¦

Three months now
I’ve been prepared.
House is painted.
Attic aired.
Suitcase ready.
Words in order.
Got my ticket
and my visa.

While I wait
I dust the corners sweep the floor,
check the ledger, all is sorted.
All’s in order.

A bowl of water for my sister.
A pile of salt for my brother.
And for my daughter
all the seeds:
onion garlic
rose and thyme
cotton broad bean
orange lime
oats and barley
pear and pea
mushroom mulberry.

Story written.
Fire laid.
Letters burnt.
Debts are paid.
Apples dried. Horses fed.
Sail mended. Big book read.

A bowl of water for my sister.
A pile of salt for my brother.
And for my daughter
all the seeds:
onion garlic
rose and thyme
cotton broad bean
orange lime
oats and barley
pear and pea
mushroom mulberry.
Summer, summer tea.
Betsy sent me these reflections about the performance:
A particularly poignant moment was when we were doing Summer Tea. I of course loved the listing of the kinds of seeds to be given to the daughter; as I was preparing that piece, I had familiar twinges of regret over not having had more children, including a daughter. But as I was singing, a little girl I teach from NWGC (Northwest Girlchoir) came into my line of vision. She was rapt, watching you and Stuart, and also showing the astonishment only a young child can when confronted with the impossible image of their teacher somewhere other than the classroom. It made me realize that daughters, and families, can come in many forms, and we can collect and pass seeds to them in many ways. It was powerful, especially as you had said before the performance that you wanted Kidnapping Water: Bottled Operas to be not only for people now but for future generations.

My Big Gay Ears

Journalist and former record executive Joseph Dalton has a blog called My Big Gay Ears. It's a funny title and super resource. He was kind enough to mention my upcoming projects in a recent post.
Talk about bringing music to the people! Composer/performer Byron Au Yong is putting opera in bottles (no deposit required)....

Like a musical Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the Seattle-based composer created a series of 64 musical miniatures, each for a singer and a percussionist....

Read more at My Big Gay Ears (!)

World AIDS Day Song

ribbon
Lyrics for Stronger Together performed as part of World AIDS Day in Seattle.
Stronger together?
I don’t know. 
How can I sit
and eat with you
when every night
I ache from hunger? 
I know I'm strong,
yet I'm afraid
that you will leave me
in the clinic graveyard
turning feet all blue from needles
stuck in those who cannot walk. 
These were my neighbors and teachers,
my lovers, small children, and God
I wish I had sores in my mouth
so I could blame the sores
for what I'm about to say… 
I look out and
see a sea of ribbons
bobbing all alone.
Ribbons frame holes
around our hearts. 
I have lived
through a million lives
opening and closing
the doors of death. 
Each death became a ribbon
until my bedroom filled
with ribbons, too many
dying that I swept them
all underneath the bed.
I forgot them until one day
my nine-year-old daughter
pulled the dust and the ribbons.
out to play. 
She asked,
"Daddy, why so many
ribbons hiding here?"
I told her about the people
I had cared for who had died. 
She held her head high
knowing that it was her time.
We tied the ribbons together.
No more hiding secrets from my girl. 
I now wear this ribbon
for a life that should have lasted
so much longer than mine.
When my daughter died
those ribbons tied together
strengthened me with knots
all twisted, ugly, gnarled, hopeful,
painful, sad, and calming. 
Let your ribbons sing.
Tell their stories.
Tie them back into your lives.
Even when you cannot smile anymore,
Remember:
all the dancing,
all the questions,
all the faces of the living.
Touch them all to be
stronger together.
Tie them together
to be together now.

Stronger Together was written as part of a benefit luncheon for Multifaith Works in conjunction with Gay City Health Project, Seattle Counseling Services and Dunshee House. Vocalist Dennis Saffer and I performed this song at the Washington State Convention and Trade Center on December 4, 2008.

Creating a Community Song

Here's an obon song, I helped create for the 75th Anniversary of Seattle's Bon Odori. My taiko player friend Karen asked me to help out. In less than four meetings, we created and rehearsed this tribute to Seattle's past as well as a new dance song for future generations.

2015 Seattle Obon Video

Seattle Omoide Ondo
Ji-chan, ba-chan, odori ni koi.
To-san, ka-san, kodomo mo koi.
Shinseki kamawazu minna de koi.

Ah,
The summer time would be strange without song or dance.
Bon Odori makes me feel alive;
Se-a-to-ru romance.

Ev'ryone ( ) kachi kachi ( ) all in sync.
Colorful kimono fill the streets.
Taiko keeps the beat.

Ji-chan, ba-chan, odori ni koi.
To-san, ka-san, kodomo mo koi.
Shinseki kamawazu minna de koi.

Ah...
Together young and old gather on Main Street.
Queens and Pirates circle round and round,
dancing in the heat.

I eat somen and yaki onigiri.
Ev'ry year my fingers get sticky
from eating kori.

Ji-chan, ba-chan, odori ni koi.
To-san, ka-san, kodomo mo koi.
Shinseki kamawazu minna de koi.

Ah...
I nod to friends and to those who have passed away.
Sensei Kiki dances next to me
on this happy day.

The sun goes down on the lanterns; they sway and yawn.
I watch children as they learn new songs.
The future carries on.

Ji-chan, ba-chan, odori ni koi.
To-san, ka-san, kodomo mo koi.
Shinseki kamawazu minna de koi.
Thanks to Karen Akada Sakata, Dennis Yamashita and Yukie Fujiwara for their great voices, Esther Sugai for her awesome fue music, and Marcia Takamura for her enthusiastic kagegoes and shimisen playing that kept us all in line. I was in the UK when this was first performed in 2007, but heard that dance instructors Gwen and Suzanne made a super up-beat dance with kachi kachi.

2011 White River Buddhist Temple Bon Odori Video

The Color of Memory

Lyric sketch for Ji Mo 寂寞: The Stillness of Solitude

If mem'ry were a color, mem'ry would be white.
No. White is not a color, white is ev'ry color so
White is ev'ry color as is memory.

If mem'ry were a color, mem'ry would be light.
No. Light is not a color, light is ev'ry color so
Light is ev'ry color as is memory.

If mem'ry were a color, mem'ry would dance here.
No. Mem'ry does not dance here
Memory just sits and waits and sits and waits and
Wants to dance but sits and waits...

For Toru to be home.

crash, only if then

crash
only
if
then

crash
never
safe
I'm

crash
heaving
breath
your...

crash
too much
food
I

crash
cooking
for
two

crash
Mich
photo by Jean-Stephane
eating
just
me.

where are you?!
it's dinner
time for dinner
time for dinner
time for dinner
time for dinner
time for dinner.

smell the dinner
I can't smell the
dinner smell I
only smell you.

crash
only
if
then

crash
never
safe
I'm

crash
heaving
breath
your...

(These lyrics are for Michelle's song in Ji Mo: The Stillness of Solitude, which premieres April 6, 2007 in Portland, Oregon.)

Fat-Phobic

(This lyric was written for my friend's going away from work party. She was an illustrator for The Seattle Times. The week before she received angry mail for an illustration of the band Gossip. Fans complained that she drew the lead singer too skinny. The image was copied from KRT, hence the watermark.)

[illustration of Gossip]


Have you heard?
It's too absurd.
About Michelle Kumata at The Times.
Of all her crimes this one oughta take the whole enchilada:

Kumata is
Fat-phobic, fat fat phobic, fat-phobic, fat fat phobic.
Fat-phobic, fat fat phobic, fat-phobic, fat fat phobic.

Michelle's years of running around
at the paper and across Puget Sound
drawing art then crafting a page
of those skinnies, what an outrage.

She draws a figure with an oversized head,
but have you noticed? They're underfed,
and Gossip's a band with a lead singer
who enjoys her sweet, sweet bread.

Kumata is
Fat-phobic, fat fat phobic, fat-phobic, fat fat phobic.
Fat-phobic, fat fat phobic, fat-phobic, fat fat phobic.

But wait, can this Gossip be true?
There must be a reason for this point of view,
"Kumata hates fatties," that's hallabaloo.
Truth is that credit is long overdue.

Kumata is
Aerobic. She thinks like a beatnik.
Free of politicking, I'd hand-pick her
to be on the front lines bringing us all sunshine
with her clever design of the peace sign.

Have you heard?
It's not absurd.
About Michelle on her farewell.

We wish you the best
just make sure we're impressed at your new job.
Now go be unstressed and know
Michelle that you are blessed.

Cuckoo Crow

Tellous Records is holding a CONTEST FOR FREE TICKETS to the Degenerate Art Ensemble's premiere of Cuckoo Crow at the Moore Theater.

Here is my entry:

[odeo=http://odeo.com/audio/2262462/view]
(Press play to hear this complex recording performed by just one performer. Below are the lyrics. Feel free to sing along.)


Hello, my name is Byron Au Yong, and this is my song entitled Give Me Free Tickets to Cuckoo Crow:

I've heard you with open ears
from the 90s, those were the years
when we got drunk from a few beers.Degenerate (#@%&!) ($@#%*)
Degenerate (#@%&!) ($@#%*)
Degenerate Art Ensemble. [2x]

I'm just a guy without hope.
I'm just a guy who hates the pope.
You are my mythic kaleidoscope.

Degenerate (&%^$#) ($#@%*)
Degenerate (^!@*%) (*^&$!)
Degenerate Art Ensemble. [2x]

What, oh what
would it take from me
to get those free tickets
to your jamboree?

I will fight
for the right to sit
near the orchestra pit
where the light from the drum kit
will bless me.

Please bless me oh Cuckoo Crow.

Money doesn't grow on trees.
I'm begging on my hands and knees:
Select me Cuckoo Crow, oh please...

Degenerate (*^&%@) (!#@%$)
Degenerate (^$%#*) (*&^#!)
Degenerate Art Ensemble. [2x]

Contest Results updated 10 March 2006
A personal message from DAE, Tellous, and Sue the cat:
dear beautiful everybody who entered the contest for dae tickets:

thank you for all your submissions.....from the person who had a magnet in their stomach, montage of chaotic children, women's health worker, crow themed photos, dae drinking anthem [This must be my entry!], stewie's uncle, our pal sam (who was in the dae!), butoh bretheren, video sound collage artists, paurl's mold wielding landlord, stream of conciousness
chaosers........it was very hard to choose a winner.

[....]

so here's the deal. it is fricken impossible to judge you guys. you all do something of creative or good natured merit and, the only solution we can conceive of, at all, is to assign each of your names a number and put them into a big ol hat!
Ah well, even though my name wasn't chosen for tickets, lovely Olivia offered me a super seat for a super deal. And hey, another song was born.

Old Glory

Anyone who's ever stood with a friend
Unwilling to bend from the pressure,
Anyone who's ever covered their ears
To escape all the jeers of the rabble,
Come along with me,
We'll fold the stars and stripes
Beside the Golden door.

Anyone who's ever talked out of turn
Wanting to learn 'bout a soldier,
Anyone who's ever stared at the sky
while preparing to fly for their country,
Come along with me,
We'll fold the stars and stripes
Beside the Golden door.

Old Glory,
American flag,
I fought for you.
Please tell me where you hid the key.

Old Glory,
American flag,
I'm homeless now,
Down by the feet of liberty.

Anyone who's ever hit the concrete
Surviving the heat from the hatred,
Anyone who's ever sung to the moon
Knowing that it's too soon for a union,
Come along with me,
We'll fold the stars and stripes
Beside the Golden door,
Outside the Golden door,
Denied the Golden door.

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong

Deck of Cards

Wanna play war? (shuffle)
Two cards flip. (shuffle)
Highest one wins. (shuffle)
Out or in?
Cut.

(slap slap) I win.
(slap slap) I win.
(slap slap) You win.

52 cards, 26 chances.
Slap the cards. That’s how to play.
Like an airplane swooping: Zhoom.

(slap slap) I win.
(slap slap) You win.
(slap slap) You win.
Tied.

52 cards designed for a standoff.
In ‘52, the B-52,
Strategic carrier loads 45:
Bomb bomb nuclear weapon. Bomb bomb chemical warfare.
Zhoom. (slap) Hanoi.
Zhoom. (slap) Iraq.
Zhoom. (slap) Enduring freedom.

26 cards left, half of 52,
26 weeks is half the year,
I’ll persevere for my career
I’ll learn to fear then disappear...
Here. (slap slap slap slap slap slap slap)

One. (slap) Two. (slap) Three. (slap)
Nine Trey, Four Deuce, Ace King, you win.

16 cards left, sweet 16,
Diamonds, Hearts, Clubs, and Spades.
(slap slap) I win. (slap slap) I win.
(slap slap) I win. (slap slap) You win.
(slap slap) I win. (slap slap) I win.
(slap slap) I win. (slap slap) I win!

Cards from the Arabs.
Cards tell your fortunes.
Cards without jokers.
Two cards flip. (shuffle)
Only one wins. (shuffle)
Out or in? (shuffle)
Cut.

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong

Early Morning Crash Site

Bloody shrapnel.
Bloody glass.
Bloody fuselage.

Dead flies in the kitchen light!

Asymmetri-
Calling box
Off kilter
Stuck killing

Box stuck
Light killing
Off calling

Killing box
Calling dead
Kilter off

Killing off
Box flies
Off killing

Calling off
Stuck kilter
Box killing.

Early morning crash site,
Anyone survive?

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong

Peanut Butter

Hungry
At the sink again
At the single sink again.

Ready
With a spoon again
With a tablespoon again.

All I want is peanut butter
Oh delicious peanut protein
Oh delicious buttery feeling
From this glass.

8 grams
Protein energy
Crunchy creamy energy.

8 grams
Serving size is two
Serving size is really two

Tablespoons of peanut butter
Just two bites of peanut protein
Just two licks of buttery feeling
Of temptation.

Subsist
On this empty jar
Back of the lid and jar.

Resist
Gulping on a lick
Gulping, choking on a lick of

Pungent peanut, tasty butter,
Just a lick of peanut protein
Just a lick of buttery feeling
For my desperation.

As I stand
As I think
Stand apart
At my sink
Part of kitchen
On the brink
Kitchen table
Missing link
Table soaring
While I shrink
Soaring boxes
As I sink
Boxes empty
Boxes pink
Empty stories
Smeared with ink
Stories
Bashing crashing
Lying prying
Never-ending
Never never

(Where’s my knife?)

Prohibition
I can justify
I can always justify.

Recognition
Of a flying star
Trapped in this sad memoir.

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong

Empty Box

Mama used to watch TV.
She looked at a box ev’ry day of the week
And saw Miss Doris Day smiling
All flushed from a shopping spree.

Baba used to watch TV.
He looked at a box to learn how to speak
In English all of the words
In turn he passed on to me.

He said:
“Eyewitness news invasion, up close and personal,
At six o’clock, battlefield roundup, home front hostages,
Live local, innocent, groundbreaking development.”
His voice slowly mimicked Walter Cronkite’s last:
“And that’s the way it is...”

Then the three of us under a blanket on the sofa bed,
We watched Lawrence Welk with the blond-haired couple
Dancing to accordion-man dressed in glitter and white,
White, [as Mr. Welk] “Wunnerful, Wunnerful.”

Baba didn’t like all the dancing or the glitter, All the
“Wunnerful,” terrible twitching blond-hair finished
By those beautiful bubbles, all those “Wunnerful” bubbles
Popped, “Ah-One, Ah-Two,”
When Ma testified against him.

I just wanna watch TV.
I want to escape, to take just a peek
At the world outside my door
But I need a guarantee.

I’m too scared of the terror outside,
Of the terrible flood, of the terrible people.
All the innocent customers
Popped,
From my Baba in love with the six o’clock news.
All America shooting guns, Baba holding a gun.

Show me a future that’s safe,
That is glitter and white.
That’s not terrible people,
But just glitter and white.
I need a future that’s safe.
I need all glitter and bubbles.

Give me television.

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong

Yellow Ribbon

Yellow ribbon in my hair.
Yellow ribbon tie with care.
Yellow ribbon ‘round my neck.
Yellow ribbon keep in check.

Too many choices,
Too many names,
Too many children,
Too many games.

Playing always laughing
Always teasing always
Fighting always wanting
Never satisfied.

Cowboy, G.I. Joe,
Star Wars Hero,
Do-Si-Do.

Too many choices,
Too many zits,
Too many Playboys,
Too many tits.

Groping always stumbling
Always reaching always
Yearning always missing
Never satisfied.

Yellow ribbon held in pray’r.
Yellow ribbon please beware.
Yellow ribbon ‘round the tree.
Yellow ribbon not for free.

Cowboy, G.I. Joe,
Star Wars Hero,
Do-Si-Do.

Too many choices,
Too many tricks,
Too many partners,
Too many pricks.

Hurting always flinching
Always punching always
Strangling always dreading
Never satisfied.

Agoraphobia: Fear of crowds.
Antlophobia: Fear of floods.
Siderophobia: Fear of stars.
Xenophobia: Fear of strangers.

Yellow ribbon over there.
Yellow ribbon make a square.

Erotophobia: Fear of sex.
Epistemophobia: Fear of knowledge.
Kenophobia: Fear of voids.
Sedatephobia: Fear of silence.

Yellow ribbon in midair.
Yellow ribbon make a pair.

Philophobia: Fear of love.
Mnemophobia: Fear of memories.
Atychiphobia: Fear of failure.
Xanthophobia: Fear of yellow.

Too many choices: Fear of yellow.
Too many lies: Fear of yellow.
Too many symbols: Fear of yellow.
Too many ties: Fear of yellow.

Twisting always snapping
Always fixing always
Failing always searching
Never satisfied.

Cowboy, G.I. Joe,
Star Wars Hero,
Do-Si-Do.

Yellow ribbon to recruit.
Yellow ribbon prostitute.
Yellow ribbon overstock.
Yellow ribbon aftershock.

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong

Fragile, This Side Up

For me,
This box,
Careful,
The contents may crack.

A clue,
Some rocks,
Careful,
There’s no turning back.

Fragile, this side up up up
Fragile, this side up

Some words,
On stones,
Careful,
They’ll carve through your heart.

Like birds,
With bones,
Careful,
You’ll be pecked apart.

Fragile, this side up up up
Fragile, this side up

Wake up, open this package
Wake up, take out the knife
I can’t be fragile forever
Wake up, get on with my life

I’m here,
Inside,
Careful,
I shouldn’t stay long.

I fear,
I hide,
Careful,
Don’t sing the same song again.

Fragile, this side up up up
Fragile, this side up.

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong

Boy Walking Up a Hill

Boy walking up a hill
Boy walking up a hill
Boy walking up a hill. [2x]

Billy Goat Gruff wearing dresses
In a small world a collision.
Mama smiling, Baba sighing
Mirror showing a division.

A clock set to the wrong time
In a past time as I waver.
A clock set to the wrong time
As I walk up the hill.

I’m walking up a hill
I’m walking up a hill
I’m walking up a hill. [2x]

Puking oatmeal over pavement
Rainy morning blurring vision.
Scraping gravel sinking stomach
Near the schoolyard indecision.

A clock set to the wrong time
In a past time as I waver.
A clock set to the wrong time
As I walk up the hill.

I’m walking up a hill
I’m walking up a hill
I’m walking up a hill. [2x]

Foggy window, empty classroom
Stories far from television.
Hungry troll waits wanting payment
For a playmate; my revision.

A clock set to the wrong time
In a past time as I waver.
A clock set to the wrong time
As I look for a friend, friend, friend,

Oh oh oh, pick me, pick me Hungry Troll...

Boy walking up a hill
Boy walking up a hill
Boy walking up a hill. [2x]

Lyrics © 2005 by Byron Au Yong
Dedicated to intercultural collaboration, Byron Au Yong composes songs of dislocation, music for a changing world. He teaches in Performing Arts & Social Justice at the University of San Francisco.

Byron Au Yong & Christopher Yohmei Blasdel: BreathPlay
BreathPlay

Byron Au Yong: Kidnapping Water: Bottled Operas
Kidnapping Water:
Bottled Operas
Byron Au Yong: Yiju
YIJU 移居