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    "37 Cents Per Minute"genre: Indie Pop/Lo Fi
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    This is a song that lies somewhere between the cerebral cortex and the id; the driving rock format of the song is appealing yet a hidden intelligence bubbles up through the surface. The lyrics were written by Matt Smith and I, a bit of a swipe at some teachers who probably aren't worth swiping.
    CD: Room in Their Bellies

    Story Behind the Song
    This song came about in May 2001 after a prolonged dry spell of written material for the record that eventually became "Room in Their Bellies." "Cents" is notable for being the one song that signified a very different direction from the rather appalling output of March and April. It is a pattern of mine that after any great success or breakthrough, I tend to follow that up with a good idea that can never build up any steam as the technical proficiency hasn't progressed along with the idea. This was the case with the period after "For Everyone," which if you had been following my musical output was a very important step. In the months that followed that album (which wasn't quite as coherent as it was impressive - a phrase that sums up the St. Mark's High School system of education as a whole) I found myself very interested in doing a "story album" in the style of Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust" and the Beatles' "Lonely Hearts." In fact, the prototypical name for this effort was "Eric Mayer's Lonely Hearts." I planned grand, as I usually do - but when the songs came through I tried to demo through them as one piece and it didn't work at all. It seemed this album could never get made. Then, in May 2001, this song was created and things were moving again. I wrote a few other similarily great songs utilizing my newfound skill at the piano. Most of these appeared on "Room in Their Bellies." In a historic session, Matt Smith and I collaborated on the lyrics for this song and "Cappucino Holograph" which was written around the same time. As a result, the lyrics successfully display the trademark of the Smith/Mayer style combination - a lighthearted sarcastic gibe at several needest-not-be-mentioned human beings in their absence. We don't really mean it, honest. To be fair, Matt also helped out on "Smoke and Mirrors" though that's technically part of "37." The title was dreamt up by me a period after the lyric writing, as the song had few memorable lines that lent themselves to such a position as the name of a song. I was listening to a lot of Beefheart and Pavement at the time and liked their use of nonsensical names so I decided to go with it.

    Lyrics
    Running back, where do I belong?
    On the track, relapsing over wrongs.
    I can't see anything through this smoke.
    Could it be the distance of a slope?
    Baldino, grand master, toke away!

    Beowulf, fate saves an undoomed man.
    Fatass eats lard out of a can.
    Eileen, useless notes for AP tests.
    Cancer, hope you get it in the chest!
    Tubby Queen, hope you eat yourself away!

    I've been down these roads before and I'll stand (I'll stand)
    By the light of the exit door no more (No more)
    Will I live with ghosts in my head and walk (And walk)
    To that guy they call Big Red I hate (I hate)

    When the news breaks at dawn
    I'll be there on my front lawn
    Looking for something to read

    Merciful, give me some cigarettes
    Methols, Marlboro's got my fix
    Burning, burning my inner flesh
    Cancer, hope I get it in the chest
    Emphysema's on the way!

    I've been down these roads before and I'll stand (I'll stand)
    By the light of the exit door no more (No more)
    Will I live with ghosts in my head and walk (And walk)
    To that guy they call Big Red I hate (I hate)

    When the news breaks at dawn
    I'll be there on my front lawn
    Looking for something to read

    Got nowhere to go but I don't know just where that is (4x)

    1,2,3,4!

    I've been down these roads before and I'll stand (I'll stand)
    By the light of the exit door no more (No more)
    Will I live with ghosts in my head and walk (And walk)
    To that guy they call Big Red I hate (I hate)

    When the news breaks at dawn
    I'll be there on my front lawn
    Looking for something to read

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