Brad Roberts: 2 Songs & 1 Christmas Tale
Listen to the great songs Brad Roberts wrote with the Hookist community in our global virtual songwriting collaborations!
Music: Brad Roberts & Terry Derkach
Lyrics: Jerry Brace, Robert S. Hall, Brad Roberts, Ray J. Lonsdale, Sarah Lopusnikova, Daniel Evans
Doppelgänger
A snapping twig, the blowing breeze
Darkness brings, a vague unease
The smell of rain, a flash of light
The scene is lit, turns back to night
A distant shout, of words that seem
Like dialogue, in a forgotten dream
Static signal, far and fleeting
A broken record, left repeating
Doppelgänger, known but nameless
Show yourself to me
Phantom, foe, forever faceless
Dark uncertainty
These memories, don’t feel like mine
A diary that got left behind
Now ink runs, it starts to rain
Illegible, just a stain
A snapping twig, the blowing breeze
Darkness brings, a vague unease
The smell of rain, a flash of light
The scene is lit, turns back to night
Doppelgänger, known but nameless
Show yourself to me
Phantom, foe, forever faceless
Dark uncertainty
_________________________
Music: Brad Roberts & Terry Derkach
Lyrics: Shefik, Jerry Brace, Tod Hughes, Brian Hassett, Walker Todd Davis, Daniel Evans,
Jessica Delfino, Brad Roberts, MaryAnne Kent, Hamish Clarke, Jared Lekites, Dougalicious
Disposable Words
Some of us are pink, some are other colors
All are born from gas clumps, call them our mothers
Some of are us are brown, and come from different folks
Our DNA distinct, fueling cosmic hopes
We started long ago, and painting desert caves
Building to the skies, digging out our graves
Made temples where we, could honor our gods
Performing rituals, to better our odds
When the time comes to boldly go
Even if the voice is whispering
I hope I’ll be the first to know
I hope it tells me everything
With disposable words and reusable genes
We’ll live our lives beyond our means
But now our odds grow slim, the planet torn asunder
Our science so advanced, we flirt with cosmic blunder
The gods are not responding, our temples a mere facade
Our odds have not changed, our beliefs were a fraud
I thought I saw a falling star, and so I made a wish
But it was just a satellite, and I am just its dish
I wondered if these skies, would be where we embarked
A tired out humanity in a modern Noah’s ark
When the time comes to boldly go
Even if the voice is whispering
I hope I’ll be the first to know
I hope it tells me everything
With disposable words and reusable genes
We’ll live our lives beyond our means
Thingamajigs toil less, industrial revolution
Darwin unraveled a the rest, a beastly evolution
We cast a spell of ones and zeroes
Tossed out leaders, welcomed heroes
Teaspoons in the ocean, dust among the clouds
No cure or magic potion, just a restless hungry crowd
Death and resurrection, do they add up to the same
Or have we spent our equity, playing some cosmic game
When the time comes to boldly go
Even if the voice is whispering
I hope I’ll be the first to know
I hope it tells me everything
With disposable words and reusable genes
We’ll live our lives beyond our means
The jig is up, the strings are snipped
We are set free, but without a script
_________________________
Music: Brad Roberts & Terry Derkach
Lyrics: Jerry Brace, Pamby1, Ray J. Lonsdale, Matt4_4, Hamish Clarke, Daniel Evans, Brad Roberts, Marcel Bingley, RSmithline, Qortni Medovichova, Kiva Simona, Ray J. Lonsdale, Walker Todd Davis
Drone For the Holiday
Underneath his red cap and his curly white beard
There’s a man from the north who’s twisted and weird
Living for years in the cold fierce north pole
The seclusion has finally taken its toll
The elves they all fear him and bow to his whim
And even poor Rudolph’s red nose has grown dim
He mumbles and scratches out lists on the trees
And draws golden angels in the snow with his pee
Then suddenly on the curb right in front of his home
Sat a shiny red parcel delivered by drone
He slicked back his hair, while he gathered his pride
Then spat on the floor and proceeded outside
For just a split second he smiled at the gift
Then, grabbing the drone, shouted ‘paradigm shift!’
A box inside the drone made old Santa’s eyes twinkle
Could this be a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle?
With the box to his ear, he gives it a shake
It leaps from his hands; the gift is awake!
A voice from within the box speaks up at last
Fear not I’m the drone from all Christmases PAST
Now the elves gathered round and stared on at the scene
There was Santa, the drone, and the thing in between
Then from inside the box rose two long fluffy ears
A Bunny emerged to applause, and to cheers!
It’s Christmas not Easter, old Santa Claus huffed
The old man, thought the Bunny, is looking pretty rough!
Then, taking a shaker and a bottle of gin
He poured Santa a drink, and he gave it to him
Let’s drink to the Christmases past in your life,
To the day’s of your youth, when you had not a wife
Now perhaps it was something that was in the Vermouth
Or the fact that the gin was a hundred-plus proof
But suddenly Santa appeared in his youth!
His cheeks were both red, but his nose not quite so
He was slim and his belly had had no time to grow
Poor Santa didn’t know what he should think
Was that him, standing there? He frowned and he blinked
Is that really me he said with a frown
But I look so content and there’s friends all around
Oh Bunny you sure have some great tricks up your sleeve
And to think that I thought you were just make believe
Yes I’m you, well it’s me, look you know what I mean
There’s no time to explain – just hop in the machine!”
What was Santa to do – not believe in himself?
So he clambered in, passing his glass to an elf!
“Buckle up”, said Bunny, “this is not like a sleigh”
“Warping wormholes is rough and not child’s play”
He buckled his seatbelt and held on tight
And closed his eyes while the drone took flight
Up they flew in a whirl of starlight and snow
And for the first time in years Santa laughed: “Ho-ho-ho!”
With speeds to reach galaxies far, far away
That humbled the specs of his antique sleigh
Like ole’ Scrooge he did sail, round broad span of his life
Cross the myriad shadows and the twinkling lights
The first stop was childhood, Santa’s, in fact
Dad was home early because he’d been sacked
Young Santa set out, through the snow and gloom
And returned with a fir tree for the living room
Let me guess, you’re showing what was, is and will be
As if the cure were to make me feel guilty!
I’ve read “A Christmas Carol” – I know the score
And it won’t work, so just drop me back at my door!
You’re a tough nut, thought bunny, sizing him up
Then it hit him – maybe Santa just needs a checkup!
He examined the fat man with ruthless efficiency
Then pawed in his notebook ‘iron deficiency?’
Back at home, Bunny called out Rudolf’s name
Then baring his teeth, went straight for a vein
Long story short, he was back on his feet
All Santa needed was a little red meat!
So THAT is the story of POOR Santa Claus
You DON’T have to LIKE it, but THAT’S what it TWAS!
