music lyrics

album: Taxidriving under-City lyrics
by badmashadi

travel journal of insanity

hey Mashhadi kids! small town people! immigrants! locals!hobos! scholars!
sophisticates! psychotics! anorexics! gather around!

once upon a time, under the blue sky, there was someone, there was no one
we all got trapped in spiderwebs
i am from Mashhad, from Shishsad and Sajjad, from Khatam and Lower East Side
america 2.0, i am no passive aggressive, taking all giving nothing like a CEO
i came to this side of ocean, i went back to the other side
this side, that side, i ended up in the middle of ocean

death to america i was kidding officer, everyone get along give up paradise
walking from a small town to west town, my friend died in oil town
rifles and bibles in suburbia, naked on the streets in California
the Vatican, Jerusalem, Riaz, Rio, Vanak Square, Alabama, Boys Town
atomic bomb

we are all from different towns, from Mashhad and Afghanistan
going radical in america, blowing yourself up, metaphorical
freedom square, need a ride? just kidding
don’t let them take you to nowhere-abad
multi-culture overdose, globalophobia
catch it catch it come’n catch it bro

silly prank in the Isaeli land, cultural revolution in the KKK klan
i played it too nice for the blue eyed people, i ended up stuck with taxi drivers
micro-brew everything, patent your chromosomes
fly business class on the presidential drones
i am an Arab-Aryan, oil, gas and sweet tea
whether you chug it up or spit it out, it’s all the same shit at the end

without identity, hollow from inside, i am
my soul is folded in half, like a paper bag, i was in love with you, i wanted you
but you went down the stairs to the underworld
i wish before i go under the earth, i understand the meaning of spring and autumn

we are all from different towns, from Mashhad and Esfahan
going radical in america, all the immigrants, illegal illegal
freedom square, need a ride? just kidding
don’t let them take you to nowhere-abad
multi-culture overdose, globalophobia
no no no no nobody is colorblind

we are all from different towns, from Mashhad and Azerbaijan
going radical everywhere we are, wherever the rightwing is putting up a wall
freedom square, need a ride? just kidding
don’t let them take you to nowhere-abad
freedom square, freedom! freedom!
get in the cab!


you are a perfect line‪,‬ i am scribble with lines
you were erased and leaped away‪,‬ from this city saturated with death

no it can‪’‬t be‪,‬ it can‪’‬t be without you‪…‬

poison of their judgments‪,‬ reached to the bones
we didn‪’‬t say our goodbyes‪,‬ you faded away behind walls

no it can‪’‬t be‪,‬ it can‪’‬t be without you‪…‬

many years have passed‪,‬ your name is lost in the ears
getting used to your absence‪,‬ is the melancholia of town
counting all the dots‪,‬ staring at the clouds
searching and being lost‪,‬ on the streets‪,‬ on the pages

no it can‪’‬t be‪,‬ it can‪’‬t be without you‪…‬

we put on your shoes and went up to the last stair  ‪ ‬
you are the inner child‪,‬ we are rotten from inside
one day you shall return‪,‬ from the depth of infinity
we will reach your footsteps‪,‬ dot‪,‬ dot‪,‬ dot‪,‬ dot
we will reach your footsteps‪,‬ dot dot‪
to the top of the page


here in this cold room, my burnt up dreams piled up in the corner
and across, the empty box of color pencils, so innocently wasted away
in this room, blunt february wind reached inside, from cracks of the window
to the cozy friction between me and my illusions
the roads to the beautiful city of fiction on my notebook
and under the wheels of train of life, got pale, bitter, and real

i remained and so did winter, and walls of this room
and you, alluring stranger
i remained and so did this keychain of naiveness
too bad the lock disappeared in the depth of this concrete city

don’t come with me lovely, don’t come with me, the closest stranger
tangent to my aimless grey fingertips, i am not going far
but traveling with my failures and isolation needs no companion
the weight of this crossing must not sit on your glass shoulders
don’t come with me, alluring stranger

sky is stubbornly cloudy, but not snowing or raining
sunrise and sunset disoriented in the wheels of daily routine
one night i left the room for a stroll on the quiet streets
counting the pavement blocks
their distance from purpose of my steps
at the end of a narrow alley, before the moon above
you appeared like a simple and graceful accident
i heard you, you heard me, my eyes, your eyes
our names, our breaths, our breaths

i remained and so did winter, and walls of this room
and you, alluring stranger
i remained and so did this keychain of naiveness
too bad the lock disappeared in the depth of this concrete city


biography’n sax

once in a while, from the present tense, from intense night and days
i take refuge to the imaginary past
half of it fake and greasy, other half tastes like counterfeit booze
while walking around aimlessly

i am the child of analog age, old timey Iranian comedy skits
i missed the taxi from Poonak square, to Four Square hood of Tehran
that left me hanging and took you to the end

imaginary geometry, bad physical education
Arg square and Ahmadabad, up and down the main Mashhad mall
original Mashhadi banana shake
my accent flew away, my identity got diluted and dissoved

ah, we hung around and got dull
we finally left and detached, a perpetual nostalgia, a dizzy heart because of you
ah, i want you
sunshine face, desert heart, your hands like earth paintings
your shoes like color pencils, in the grey streets, drawing sketches with every step
sketches of your fading dreams, ah, i want you with all claws my moomoosh
your voice better than a string quartet, your bottled up sobs like Dashti and Shoor music
your deep sigh a white cloud, in the corner of dense sky of this town

last night the miserable me with “rotten vagina” Pari
went to have some fun to make a baby and such
we were kids and grew old, fun plentiful in grams
Pari finally slashed her wrist

last night the miserable me, with the childhood playmate
in the upside down taxi, our crumbled memories
no one was on the road, the dark moments before the dawn
one last kiss before the trip


rainbow is all around us, with seven shades of grey
air saturated with question marks, all over the streets
it started to rain, we got thirsty, water shut down, we got quiet
electricity came back, we logged in, like turtles
we crawled in the shell of the past, downloading our happiness
i wish there was no electricity, no dams
so we could take a swim in “Hamoon” and “Urumieh” lakes
and lose ourselves in the imaginary tomorrow
a kind of tomorrow that seems a thousand years away

intangible home

insanity seeped through cracks of my skull
voices in the bottom of well overspilled from my lips
the shadows behind got stuck under the door
total emptiness under the moon
it was time, pipes clogged, plumber pumped, but nothing came out
blood shot out from under the nails, tongue got crushed inside the book
industrial stew, cement sun, we all drowned in Mashhadi coca cola
wow what a dream, last night my stomach was empty
i drew the world map on my bed, i peed myself

crying of abandonment, crying of being in love
they watch and we gamble, fuck this season of misery
my yellow identity, your red wound
nothing is our solution , but the constant line

dealer and artist, lesbian and scientist, visa in hand and leaving home
historical disease, stupid hashtags, kidneys for sale, human worship
i didnt know poker but got mixed with the deck of cards
made from bread of my hometown, driving the taxi, cigarette and peanuts
driving in sunset, prison of traffic, your dense eyes, resting in the mirror
enriched with sorrow, your silence mandatory
wish i had what i takes, wish i had it in me
to wipe all your pain with my breaths


my foundation is broken, my facade ill, my roots thirsty for a drop of water
living like a dog in a storage room, this is the West, its people seem like toys
laughters sound mournful, cries comedic, this is the West, its tales are made of plastic

it’s been years since i saw you, my mind in exile of your longing
your hands in the clouds, my feet trapped, between us is distance of Mashhad and moon
free falling to the bottom of tomorrow
burning of us, the insanity of us.



i fell, i fell,
out of breath, out of breath
from the low, to the furthest
from confusion, to bewilderment
from a sound, to a moan
from a tale, to a nightmare
no one stood besides me
but darkness, but darkness

spinning, spinning
around self, without god
wind took the days and nights
where to? where to?
all the books, floating, on the sea
our gaze got entangled
wish it were a tight knot

suspension, suspension
pulsating of my crossing
through the fundamental particles
all of my foundation, crumbling to nothing
the dull blade of truth, on my skin and bones
this is my story, i laugh, i dance
i laugh, i dance
i laugh, i dance
i spin, i spin, i spin, i spin…

frozen moths

in the cruel cold of this city
that scares oxygen to my lungs from freezing
i wander in dive bars alone

in the golden reflection of glasses of poison
besides the question marks hastily carved on by invisible fingers
no face, no friend, no answer i see

under the warm blanket of strangers buzzing
and relentless vibration of music in the air
i lend my sorrows and watch
as alpha males with glasses in hand, throw their nets on the autumn girls

i am your man, unfinished and grappling with the world
unfinished and grappling with the world, and in love with falling in love
i am free, i am free, under red and golden glasses
i am free, i am free
like the frozen moths of this city

in the midst of this competition, the nets get entangled
and dissolve in the dark of surrounding walls
and nightly gamble of love and hormones
takes many casualties

surrounded by laughters and faces reflected on objects
i close my eyes slowly
and begin to walk alone
in the thick of these cold walls

i’ve sold my net to the old fisherman of gypsy village long ago
i’ve been just a spectator of these games for many seasons
the extent of my obsessions’ circle, has long expanded beyond the radius of my testicles


to wear this crown
by Tom Musick

I flew a whiskey bottle rocket to the moon
I sailed a dead cat cross the Humboldt Park Lagoon
I carried February halfway into June
To wear this crown

Here in this kingdom I can walk the streets unknown
Among my subjects, unexalted and alone
I’ve had to fall so low just to ascend this throne
To wear this crown

No usurpers staking claim to my prestige
No barbarians sapping walls or laying siege
Who’d want this empire anyway? Noblesse oblige
To wear this crown

I’ll love you til the wheels fall off the Lake Street El
Until this pearly soul has shed this salty shell
I’ll waltz your empty gown around the floor of Hell
to wear this crown
to wear this crown

improvisation for last passenger

the upside down home of your land
what bricks, from what kiln
have you built it with?

in the sky reflected on your eyes
what lies have you knitted?
what lies have you sewed?
what lies…

they will feed you these questions in the interrogation room and demand answers
a room located in a world that is seventy some light years away
from borders of bigotry and ignorance
and no bullet reaches even its orbit

a world which
its rotation in your head
sometimes gets stuck between seconds of the clock
and with your gaze at the night sky
keeps spinning again

draw dots on me and save me
maybe with the vibration of your cells next to mine
this out of breath sentence
will once again return
to the beginning of the page