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Picasso's 'The Old Guitar Player' Out of Time

I don't know when it happened, but sometime years ago when I was still very young, I was kidnapped by a pack of Trans-Dimensional Time-Traveling Dingoes one night as I slept. They took me away from my native home and family, and they brought me here to this life in this world in this universe that all exist simultaneously and parallel to my own.

My guess is: TDTT Dingoes have advanced technologies or pharmaceuticals or magic tricks that allow them to snatch and transport their victims through space-time and parallel dimensions without even the slightest jostle. Slumber is undisturbed. (To this day, I often feel that I haven't yet fully awakened!)

But to some degree at least, I guess, I awoke the next morning.

I woke up to a life and a world and a universe that were—superficially, at least— so much like my own that it took me years to begin to suspect that I had been stolen and secretly trans-dimensionally transplanted into the life of another Dave who was also kidnapped and trans-dimensionally transplanted into the life of another Dave who was also kidnapped and.... (Hey, it's what TDTT Dingoes do.)

I like to imagine that back in my native universe, however, the first few days and weeks after I had disappeared, front covers of tabloids all around the globe featured the same picture of my distraught parents, captioned with the local- language translation of this single quote: "Trans-Dimensional Time-Traveling Dingoes stole our child!"

If I hadn't been the first Dave the Dingoes had snatched, if they'd had some other slumbering Dave to leave in my place, I wonder if my original parents would have ever caught on. (They may lack a sense of closure concerning my fate, but at least they've got a lock on the T-shirt concessions.)

I think my "parents" and my "sibs" in this universe have their suspicions that I am not their original son or brother. But proof is elusive.

The song below contains this line: "Cryptic cries were ways I would confess I never did belong." And, yes, I guess that's another bit of circumstantial evidence. It's just not enough to implicate the Dingoes. Dontcha think? Or dontcha?

Read the lyrics below, check out the Lead Sheet for words and music, or listen to the homemade MP3 song demo recording. — BD


Thin Line


Out of Time
Words and Music by David R. Lister

I'm sitting here searching for another song
Old guitar keeps stringing me along
Well, I don't know what I've been doing wrong
But I've been doing it for far too long

Raging seas rise high above me
As I drown in dreams of glory
And it's just the same old story
That I've told you all along
Of dead clowns and sounds of madness
And an overwhelming sadness
Cryptic cries were ways I would confess
I never did belong

Suppose you should find you another friend
'Cause I know I'll never come your way again
No more sharing my dreams or my secret sins
But then, you never really took me in

I was coughing songs out all night long
But you were not one for quickness
Never knowing your own sickness
Oh, how could you cure me mine
Wooly waves washed in around us
For to cleanse us or to drown us
Once we thought that we had found us
But we found we were out of time

We were out of time

So I'm sitting here searching for another song
Old guitar keeps stringing me along
Well, I don't know what I've been doing wrong
But I've been doing it for far too long


OUT OF TIME.MP3


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