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Foundation

Written by Greg Johnson except where noted

Not Once

She Knows

We Take Care

What Roots?

Depths

More of You

His Head Will (Sandefer)

Bullshit Stories

The Long Game

Pour One More (Bailey, Johnson)


 

In November 2016, I started the process of writing a new album. First, the lyrics that are near and dear to my heart. Later, I realized that these themes are more universal and am very proud to share the greatest personal journey I ever experienced. A long time ago, I learned to channel all of my energy into expressing myself with lyric and song. No need to explain anything. It’s all here. All of my soul for everyone to see.

 

Fade into obscurity with my heart on my sleeve.

 

-G. Johnson, April 2017

Not Once

I wonder where your love comes from

most love is a mistake made more than once

A 1943 Howitzer Cannon

To mitigate the avalanche above

 

How long can we live off crumbs?

Can we unlock a deeper wisdom?

Will we grow from this stump

Into a battle drum? A battle drum

 

Will war tear us apart?

What can love explain to my heart?

Is there something I missed from the start?

Something I can’t find with a spark?

 

Is your love worth saving with strategy?

Is it your glow, warmth and majesty?

Or your legacy of brutality?

Or the ring you relinquished for a life of farming?

 

Not once but many times

 

 

She Knows

I know. She never tells me

And never does. No, she never does

 

I’m a man in love

 

I’m never tired of waiting

Deep down we’re fading

Into obscurity

With my heart on my sleeve

 

With her messy hair and diner flair

She keeps me fair. We pretend we don’t care



 

She’s indestructible

The silence is comfortable

Fade into obscurity

With my heart on my sleeve

 

 

We Take Care


I raise our sons now that you’re gone

We feed our chicks shortly after dawn

Piles of wood and an overgrown lawn

Late at night I teach them your songs

 

We walk together in the morning

Your brother says it’s a beautiful story

I carry on - you were almost 40

If it were up to me I’d admit I’m lonely

 

I carry on, I carry on

I worry some, I worry some

I carry on, I carry on

I forget none, I forget none

 

I hang your shirts for the boys to wear

They filled your shoes by their teenage years

You lived long enough to teach them

they have nothing to fear

They’re just like you, they hold their tears

 

I keep this house now that you’re dead

Our boys in school, well fed, well read

I’m married now; he’s my best friend

But I sign my letters with the name I kept

 

I carry on, I carry on

I forget none, I forget none

I carry on, I carry on

With the name I kept, I carry on


 

What Roots

 

Under one roof, wonder what roots

Thunder speaks the truth, my illness is a riddle

It’s not dirty laundry, you’re living all over me

This four bedroom house ain’t big

enough for the both of us

 

And I lost my trust

 

It all works out, when you scream and shout

You chose this route, fuck it

You don’t love me, just a piece of me

Walk out the door, don’t come back

 

One roof, no room

One root, too soon

 

Don’t knock on my door

this home is no longer yours

I’m constantly sore, my sadness is a riddle

I see better days

i’m glad it works out this way

Your violent fits of rage aren’t here to stay

 

I ain’t strong

But you’re wrong

 

It all works out, when you scream and shout

You chose this route, you love it

You don’t love me, just a piece of me

Walk out the door, don’t come back

 

Walk out the door, don’t come back

 

Depths

She wades in depths

Waiting for death

She deals in depths

Understands deep breaths

 

These are doubts, she has them too

With the wave of her hand

I walk over and our worrying is through

They’ll come again, they’re waiting for you

It’s up to you to fight them nail and tooth

 

She wades in the depths

Waiting for death

She deals in depths

Understands deep breaths

 

She sails a long time, ancient song and rhyme

She takes 700 years

finds me clueless, passing the time

I will happily wait, toil, slave and grind

Follow footprints, scent

and the moon til our stars can shine

 

She wades in depths

Waiting for death

She deals in depths

Understands deep breaths

 

Duchess turned Queen, She commission's me

We escape to the new world’s edge

and build a colony

And we have slaves but we set them free

There’s no chains, no games, no blame, only relief

 

She wades in depths

Waiting for death

She deals in depths

Understands deep breaths

More of You

More of you

There’s more of you

The sky turns blue

I see more of you

 

What’s new with you?

There’s more to lose

What lies holds true?

What can I do?

 

More of you

There’s more of you

The sky turns blue

I see more of you

 

More of you

Our plans fall through

We flew the coup

I meet more of you

 

More of you

There’s more of you

The sky turns blue

I see more of you

 

His Head Will (Sandefer)

 

Memories ashes fall to the ground

Karmas lost on the Devil’s time

Mama cries for the loss of her

American dream

 

Broken bottles, blood stains, dented walls,

that's all that's left of this home

Curtains drawn, sobs echo,

This black heart goes cold

 

Pick up the pieces

of this broken dream

Carry out the victims

as it burns up in flames

 

This American Dream


 

Fighting for her baby boy

Who she can't support anymore

If the drugs won't get him his head will

Love won't buy him time but all you can do is try

 

Pick up the pieces

of this broken dream

Carry out the victims

as it burns up in flames

 

This American Dream


 

Working for a better life

For someone who, isn't me

Don't let all these memories be

buried in black tar

 

Pay for it to go away

Go away...Go away...Go away...Go away

The American Dream

 

 

Bullshit Stories

When I wake up / That’s when I make up

Bullshit stories / All my glory

 

When I worry / I tend to hurry

Now I’m standing / behind a staged moon landing

 

The thriving breed / of the working man’s apathy

We were handed trophies and conspiracies

 

I stare at a screen / my reality

A baby boom and a college scam to boot

 

That ain’t freedom / only to some

Forget your dreams they’re not worth saving


 

Your craft is to toil in the paranoia of the lower middle class

 

I was born on nine, one-one, oh-one

 

 


 

The Long Game

 

When I’m old, grey, withered prey

I look at my hands

They built this house, this life, with a wife

and best laid plans

Symphonies and frames of memories;

The guests drop-in

We light the fire of our youth;

sing truth from where we stem

 

Behind every man

an indestructible force of nature

He was small, once, but is now

consistent with his stature

Below the surface is a foundation

of respect and rapture

A deep, intuitive bedrock where

we stand, captured

 

By the net of the long game

Etched in permeable grain

By the rope of the long game

Etched in permeable grain

 

There’s wisdom in these mountains

and ancient dead sea

That speak to me

but only in proximity

I can’t hear but feel them

verify my decree

All I had to do was

fight for what I believe

 

There’s a sense of fear and falling

that once stopped us

A veil of insecurity

coupled with caveman lust

That centuries of ill-tradition

buried in bones and dust

uncovered and discovered

with an unbreakable trust

 

it’s the net of the long game

Etched in permeable grain

it’s the rope of the long game

Etched in permeable grain

 

 

Pour One More (Bailey, Johnson)

Sing to the good times

with beers in hand

Sing to the good times tonight

Sing to the good times tonight

 

I can’t see straight but my brother’s by my side

I’ll think of this for the rest of my life

And when the darkness comes in

No it won’t be the same

but god dammit it feels good to know

I can call your name

if I need to

If I need to

 

Sing to the good times

the good times are not lost

Sing to the good times tonight

Sing to the good times with beers in-hand

Sing to the good times tonight

 

Sing to the good times tonight

 

I can’t lift the weight unless I pour one more

I’m free from all of the world’s worries, amor

And when the time comes

There’s no room for games

I wait patiently for you to call to me

If you need to

If you need to

 

Sing to the good times

and one more round

Sing to the good times tonight

Sing to the good times

with beers in-hand

Sing to the good times tonight

 

Sing to the good times with

cigarettes and the perfect kiss

Sing to the good times tonight

 

Thank you to my best friends and family who made this record possible. Danielle, Mike Willson, Andy “Creeper” Brown, Shane Thompson, Ian Bailey, Brett Peloquin, Jimmy Hua, Dean from Thunderking and all of those who helped with the journey, inside the studio and out. To my family who supports me in the best ways possible and to those out there I call “homie,” “brother,” or “dude.” To my training partners at Tomacelli Academy and the folks at the House of Wisdom (Library) in Newport Beach.

All songs written by Greg Johnson

“His Head Will” is written by D. Sandefer

“Pour One More” is written by I. Bailey & G. Johnson

Produced & Engineered by

G. Johnson & Mike Willson

Vocals by G. Johnson

Drums by Shane Thompson

Bass by Brett Peloquin & Ian Bailey

Guitars by G. Johnson & Ian Bailey

Lead Guitar by G. Johnson & Jimmy Hua

Pedal Steel Guitar by Carlen Luke Walth

Additional Vocals by Ian Bailey, Shane Thompson, Brett Peloquin & Mike Willson

Percussion by Mike Willson

Graphic Images From The New York Public Library

Cover Photo, "Della & Ben at Trinity" from the Johnson Family

Studio Photography by Greg Johnson

Recorded at MAPS in Fullerton, CA

Mixed at New Monkey Studio in Van Nuys, CA

Mastered by Max Karon

© 2018 by swindletone.com