Rob Lambert.com

I’ve been chugging along creating new music this year, but I haven’t been as public about it the past few months. I’ll make an exception for today

In Ukranian traditional folklore, the Domovyk is the house spirit, also called khoziain, or master of the house. I wrote and recorded this guitar instrumental specifically for the Kickstarter video for Sticks and Bones: Issue 1 – Home Is Where the Hearth Is. The project is for a comic book created by Valya Dudycz Lupescu and artist Madeline C. Matz. You should totally fund it!

Anyway, here’s the first draft of the song!:

The Domovyk’s Lament by Rob Lambert

LYRICS below.

LYRICS:

Well, the end times are here,
May as well have a beer…
We’ve had a good run,
But we’ll all disappear… Tomorrow.

It’s the end of the road,
And the seeds that we sowed,
Will be forgotten …
When the sky implodes…. Tomorrow.

At least I don’t have to do
That performance review
for my soul-sucking job
That’s long over-due… Tomorrow.

But we better prepare,
for the place upstairs.
Let’s say our prayers,
and hope we go there, Tomorrow.

It’s the end of the world, As we know it, And I feel fine.
I stole that line for ….. “Tomorrow”.

Today is the greatest day I have ever known,
We’ve got tonight, who….. needs………………
Tomorrow…..

Well, the news got it wrong
This is not our swan song.
We’re gonna make it,
A whole lot longer than Tomorrow

So what shall we do,
Now that we are not through
When the sun shines on,
The morning dew… Tomorrow?

Let’s order breakfast in bed,
And then instead,
Of going to work, let’s
Rejoice we’re not dead…
All … day …… Tomorrow

(c)2011 Rob Lambert

Last week, I bought a mandolin at Old Town School of Folk Music, stopping at Taco Bell on the way home where I heard TLC’s “Waterfalls”. The song stuck in my head, so when I got home, I learned 4 chords and did this… Stick with it, there’s a VERY SPECIAL guest who joins me for the rap part!

In honor of the supposed upcoming Snowpacolypse, thought I’d share a relevant recently written song Lyrics below the video!

LYRICS:
During morning coffee & toast
I was dreaming about the west coast
And trying to think of reasons we should stay…

…Here in this morbid cold
And when I saw that bread mold
(It) was a sign that today was the day

I know it sounds cliche
But I see no reason to delay…

Let’s just sell our shit and move away-ayyyyyyyyy.

I don’t care if it is fool’s gold.
This state is getting old,
… like a dirty ashtray.

Who cares where, let’s just go west,
Illinois makes me depressed.
Let’s sell our shit and move away.

I know it sounds cliche
But I see no reason to delay…

Let’s just sell our shit and move away-ayyyyyyyy.

move away-ayyyyyyyyy
move away-ayyyyyyyyy
move away-ayyyyyyyyy

(c)2011 Rob Lambert

I come in from a cold walk with the dogs and put water on the stove to make some tea. I’m listening to the Tallest Man on Earth song “Pistol Dreams”. I’m glued to the song. I pull up the lyrics and listen again. And then I pull up Molly Robison’s version on YouTube and listen to that.

Something feels wrong, but I ignore it. I’m somewhat mesmerized by this song.

I’m reading the lyrics as Molly sings it.

“So deep into the orchard, you will stumble on the skin of snakes. So let me know your nerves, we’ll lose the road. And I will boil the curtains to extract the drugs of springtime, but the unicorn it stirs up as a mule.”

What is he talking about?

Something really feels terribly wrong.

I look up and there’s a flickering orange and yellow glow coming from the kitchen.

I run to the stove. My tea pot is on fire. Bad. Oh shit. Big fire.

I turn the burner off.

“Wait… you can’t throw water on the stove … or can you? That’s just for a grease fire.”

I fill a pan with water and throw it on the fire. Smoke fills the air and the fire half goes out. But it half doesn’t go out.

I grab the burning teapot with an oven mitt and move it to the counter onto a dirty plate. The teapot is still burning a little. The burner is quite a bit still on fire.

I fill two more pans with water and put the fires all the way out.

The stench of smoke and burning plastic fills the house.

Man, the ancient white curtains in our kitchen could’ve easily caught fire and then … oh man oh man.  Wow, it would’ve been embarrassing to let the firefighters see our house in the state that it is in!

Thank God I caught it on time.

Moral of the story:

Kids, don’t fill the electric kettle with water and put it on a lit burner on the gas stove to make your tea. That’s not how those things work!

After fighting the fire for what seemed like 15 minutes (it was probably more like 2 minutes), I returned to the super-smokey dining room. And shining through the smoke, there was the glow of Molly Robison‘s face and guitar coming out of my computer screen and she was *still* singing “I Said, Throw Me In The Fire Now, Come On!” Surreal.

Seasons Greetings!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Bad Day at the Circus!

Initial sketch of a new silly ditty (a Zamboni-themed song was requested by @Valya). LYRICS below the video!

LYRICS
I drive my Zamboni to work
I drive my Zamboni to school
I drive my Zamboni to the bank clerk.
If you saw my Zamboni, you would drool.

I drive my Zamboni to Starbucks
I drive my Zamboni to Chipotle
I drive my Zamboni to get my yucks,
My Zamboni and I like to play croquet

Me and my Zamboni
Me and my Zamboni

I drive my Zamboni to New York
I drive my Zamboni to L.A.,
My Zamboni listens to Bjork,
And anything by Marvin Gaye.

I drive my Zamboni to Petsmart
I drive my Zamboni to the zoo
If my Zamboni ever fell apart,
I do not know what I would do.

Me and my Zamboni
Me and my Zamboni

I wish I could snuggle with my Zamboni in bed
Sometimes I just sleep on top of it, instead

Me and my Zamboni
Me and my Zamboni

New song I wrote this week “Empty”… LYRICS below the video. The word “empty” was stuck in my head when I got in from a long walk with the dogs at midnight, so I started riffing on the word “empty” and birthed this one over the next 30 minutes… not quite my normal fair… maybe I’ll make my next one about boogers

LYRICS
———-
Empty cup.
Empty vines.
Empty space,
Between the lines.

Empty seat.
Empty bottle.
Empty road.
Can’t find the throttle.

Empty sky.
Empty promise.
Empty tomb.
I don’t blame Thomas.

Empty wall.
Empty space.
Empty the calendar,
Just in case.
–
Empty arms.
Empty heart.
Empty mind.
What is my part?

Empty stomach, I fill with
Empty calories.
Empty canvases
in the galleries.

Empty nights, turn into
Empty days.
Empty thoughts.
I’m in a haze.

Empty feelings.
All around.
An empty vessel, makes the loudest sound.*

(*last line is by my friend, William Shakespeare, hope he doesn’t get mad at me)

Bad Day at the Circus (AKA Zabada and Merna P. Lovenuts, AKA Rob and Mary) return for an original, deeply complex, composition about their favorite nasal irrigation device … the Neti Pot!

UPDATE!

Exclusive outtake featuring Einstein Mary spilling the neti pot water into the computer!:

UPDATE #2:
Bad Day at the Circus has their very own website now: www.baddayatthecircus.com! You can also like them on Facebook: BDATC on Facebook!

Zooey D!