Regular visitors to emptyeye.com know that awhile back I read Rhonda Byrne’s The Secret, essentially in preparation for writing this song. This is the song that resulted. It’s very much in the style of Bad Religion, and at a mere 2 and a half minutes (For now, anyway), it shows that I’m actually capable of writing short songs in a normal time signature when I really want to. Other notes:
- There are points in the song where I somehow manage to sound like Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day without even trying. I have no idea how I pulled that off.
- I do a lot of jumping up and down octaves vocally here. Believe it or not, this was easier, and it sounded better, than attempting to sustain the corresponding pitch an octave higher. Note to those of you who were in Concert Choir with me at Holy Cross in 2000-2001: I told you I had a very limited vocal range…
- Speaking of vocal range, I do all the “Hey you!”s in the song as well.
- Though I’ll generally be attempting to overcome the low production values in recording The Six Day Exile, I actually think the lo-fi sound helps out the whole motif I was going for here.
- I’m not a very good guitar player. I’ll fix this, one way or another, when I record the album version.
- This is the emptyeye.com debut of my new drum machine. Say hi, everyone!
- Once again, I mangle English syntax in the name of a rhyme scheme. Somewhere, my English teachers are crying.
Stop moping about the house
I know you say your life’s a mess
But that’s because of how you think
You’re the father of your own distress
I’ve got the magic potion for you
And the rest of humankind
This legendary super weapon
Is the power of your mind
Attitude is everything
Reality is nothing!
Because your aura’s negative
You’re holding yourself back
Just think a bunch of happy thoughts
Project all your desires
Imagine that you’re winning big
And wealth’s what you’ll attract
Keep sitting on your couch
Your problem is you think fat thoughts
Just forget what logic tells you
Eating well will be for naught
Just concentrate on what you’d like
Imagine you in that size four
And then your flab will melt away
And you’ll have shown reason what for
Stuck in the hospital
You know you did this to yourself
It sounds improbable, I know
But you worried so about your health
Just believe that you can walk
And will all your sickness away
Forget the doctors, screw the science
If you wish it, then you’re okay
Yes wealth’s what you’ll attract
And suckers I’ll attract