Questions for Moon

by Karl Blau



Questions For Moon was recorded to 1/4" 4-track reel to reel(what will in the future become the dominant recording process aside from mono, really) at Hot Soup in Anacortes, WA for the KLAPS label. The lyrics are by KLAPS supporters who just happen to be some really interesting people. Probably because they chose this option for supporting at the KLAPS fundraiser they had a propensity for composition of words . Submissions were received in October of 2011, then recorded in October and November of 2011.

I hope you enjoy this, it was extraordinarily fun to make all of these poems into songs I would write.



released December 1, 2011

featuring Mitchell Robertson on guitar on track 06 - "Big Check in the Mail"



all rights reserved


Karl Blau Anacortes, Washington

In search of the sounds of joy and expressions that feel true to life. Like happiness with sadness. More and more songs about love and life and death. Experiments with sound, abundance, other kinds of dance, enthusiasm, vocals warming up.


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Track Name: Maybe Man
If you met him on the highway
If you met him in a dam
If you stuck him in a river
Then you'd know my maybe man

And if you left me on the sidewalk
And the crack turned ricky red
Then you'd know my pinky toe flake
And my hanky hanky head

And then you'll know, and then you'll know
And then you'll into the night stream go
And then you'll know and then you'll know
And then you'll understand
My laser light beam show

Once upon a dream
I was in your band
you were my camera
I slept under a tree and I
Wept all over your knee

Oh no, oh no
Never too late to waste your life
Oh no, oh no
And in the la-dee-da-dee-da-dee-da-dee-da...

And in the river with my maybe man
I maybe can be
Maybe candid maybe in the
Maybe after Ricky roo
My Sweet Pea, my Ricky roo...
Track Name: Sleepwalker
I prefer to see with eyes closed
color negative
Hard to swim in dead water
frozen ribcage
Trip down the stairs, hang from pipes
My job's a bore!
Get me to the controls
Track Name: Our Last Hope
Nine hundred seagulls later
The good people of Zion were saved
Left alone with locust lunchboxes; a
Breathless barrier in seven plagues;
A plug-in to the post-mortem majesty mayday

And yet everything worked out OK
Yes, each of us will die in a different way
And Pharoah may sit upon our graves
But if we listen yet to the sanskrit scribe
Unfolding a torn scroll: - "the scarab beetle
scurrying just scratches the surface of your immortal soul"

Perhaps we will rise from the judgment tombs
These earthborn wombs, each of us hovering six
feet over the ground,
the holy sound! trumpets blaring!
Bombastic and terrible!

See, the last hope leans
Astrally undulating
And under udders sagging
The sores of the reborn,
You think: what luck to have found yourself
Here again sucking your mother's great big boob
Track Name: Happy Hour(Every Hour)
I have been happy
Every hour since I woke
This day has been fun