Fill the Bucket
I see a bucket. Every person carries a bucket like this one. Visible only to those whose eyes have been opened. Into this bucket trickles the waters that fuel their psyche. Happiness, joy, confidence, success. All of the positive aspects of
Ain’t No Grave
When I hear that trumpet sound I'm gonna rise right out of the ground Ain't no grave can hold my body down Staring into the face of your own mortality is enough to strike fear into any man’s soul. For as sure as
Big Fish, Keep Swimming
Big fish, keep swimming. Big fish, keep swimming, Away. Mariachi legend tells of great waters, mi amigos, where many creatures existed. These waters were treacherous, as creatures fought for domination. Survival of the fittest tells us that the bigger the fish, the more
La Cucaracha
La cucaracha, la cucaracha Ya no puede caminar Porque no tiene, porque le falta Una pata para andar One of the more misunderstood creatures in Arcadia is the humble cucaracha. An important part of the Arcadian ecosystem, the cockroach will scavenge and feed on just
Loteria
They don't really make ‘em like me anymore I'm practically one of a kind. My generation is almost extinct Everyone's losing their minds There was a time when the song of my people was revered. A culture built on La Musica, the balance between
Tritone
A single chord. All that separates la musica de la vida from la musica de la muerte. The dominant note, suspended over the lifesong of those who are chosen to hear the fabled tones of death. But the dominant note in
Remember Me
Remember me, though I have to say goodbye Remember me, don't let it make you cry For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart. I hear their song,
Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
“Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do
Flying Too Close to the Sun
“Strung out and broken, They all waste away. Picks up the bottle, Drinks it down before she hits the stage.” There is no more crushing feeling than being expendable. Like the strings of my guitar, playing not out of one's own accord, but waiting