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I Killed A Clown
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Written and recorded in under 30 minutes. An extension of the old Johnny Cash line "I shot a man just to watch him die." Sort of.
weird odd strange
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Welcome to my occasional music digressions. These songs aren't written and performed so much as they're channeled. By a monkey.
Welcome friends & cyber travelers! I'm just an ordinary, not-at-all-strange or dysfunctional ad agency creative director with a couple guitars, a keyboard and an amazing palm-sized digital recorder called a Zoom PS-02. Most of my songs are conceived in the car -- some are even recorded there -- but everything is finished up legitimately and legally on a computer, which I have receipts for. Lately, in addition to my trusty PS02, I've been messing around with GarageBand software. Check out macjams.com. You'll find 192kbs downloads of many of my newest songs there. Musically and lyrically, my songs run the gamut from sweet to sarcastic to stupid. Here again, I want to assure everybody that I am a happy, well-adjusted soul, not deeply tormented with disturbed visions or running from the law or biting the heads off ferrets while listening to Yanni or Raffi or anything like that. Thanks for listening. And thanks to my family and to everyone at the Zoom PS02/PS04 Forum (http://www.2090.org/zoom/bbs) for the constant encouragement and support. And thanks to Susan Tedeschi for having the same last name as me, drawing thousands of unsuspecting people to my music.
Song Info
Charts
#18,588 today Peak #82
#4,087 in subgenre Peak #7
Author
Paul Tedeschi
Rights
Copyright 2004
Uploaded
April 03, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.7 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
I killed a clown I shot him down He made a squeaking sound As his body hit the ground He made me laugh With his last gasp His flower squirting blood And his red shoes twitching fast He has become A velvet-painted angel Living on A black and somber sky He came to me From somewhere in Mexico Sad sad clown With a tear in his eye Murdered a mime Just to hear him cry His silence made me sick That's why he had to die "This is absurd" Were his last words As I tore out his tongue And fed it to the birds He has become A velvet-painted angel Up there with Jesus And the poker-playing pups Sold on a blanket Outside the Mobil station Where Elvis Presley gasses up
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