Lyrics
Turn off the L.A.M.P.
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. tonight
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. and you'll see the light
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. tonight
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. and you'll see the light
All your dreams are trapped in their realities
Spreading their disease all over your screen
All your dreams are trapped in their realities
All of them alternatives to the truth you won’t see
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. tonight
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. and you'll see the light
All your dreams are trapped in their realities
Spreading their disease all over your screen
All your dreams are trapped in their realities
All of them alternatives to the truth you won’t see
All your dreams are trapped in their realities
Spreading their disease all over your screen
All your dreams are trapped in their realities
All of them alternatives to the truth you won’t see
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. tonight
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. and you'll see the light
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P. tonight
Turn off the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. the L.A.M.P. baby
Turn off the L.A.M.P.
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studios
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, piano, vocals, backup vocals, synthesizers, keyboards and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit: Jan Haerer via Unsplash
Aim High
Aim High
I wrote him a letter I tucked it away
Putting down words I hope to never say
Things are clear when they fade away
Superman’s sweating and he’s starting to sway
By this time in 2035 he’ll be just another compartmentalized
Member of a victim group he can’t identify
I don’t mind
If you wanna have some fun
Shooting your gun well aim high
And I don’t mind
If you wanna have some fun
Shooting your gun well aim high
Don’t lose yourself in what they say
Every sunrise is your day
Life is short and life is long
Think for yourself right or wrong
Don’t give up reach for the sky
Laugh at the lemmings as they pass you by
When you see what’s going on
The truth will spread like dawn
I don’t mind
If you wanna have some fun
Shooting your gun well aim high
And I don’t mind
If you wanna have some fun
Shooting your gun well aim high
I’ve had love that teaches with a second chance
A love that makes you wanna get up and dance
Love that's silent a wink and a nod
A love that's reverent for the Almighty God
Love that's strict and keeps you on the path
You thank them later with a drink and a laugh
All this love I give to you
I know you’ll make it through
Nobody tell him we’re just left to blame
The Founders set the course but we lost our way
Why should it fall to him to save the day
But I can’t wait to see the future while it’s happening now
Playing with his trains and laughing at the cow
Making up games that will serve him later somehow
And I don’t mind
If you wanna have some fun
Shooting your gun well aim high
I don’t mind
If you wanna to have some fun
Shooting your gun well aim high
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studios
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, acoustic guitar, lead guitar, piano, vocals, backup vocals, and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit: Paulo Victor via Unsplash
Diagnosis Rationed
Diagnosis Rationed
There’s a man with brand new health care plan
And he’s forcing me to pay
For more red tape than surgical stitching
The Founders are rolling in their graves
My family is my joy and my pride
But Sam is the uncle I don’t want at my bedside
Look at how that sausage was made
Their snouts in the trough of Change
Cornhusker Kickback, Louisiana Purchase
What a sick game
If you have the gall to see your own physician
Progressives won’t let you go
16,000 new IRS agents
Turn your head and cough up the dough
You can have my place in the line
Cos Sam is the uncle I don’t want on my bedside
Your evil death panels
Prove the myth of the pro-life Dem
Woodrow Wilson, Sanger and Eugenics
It’s the 1920s all over again
Shove that jive
Cos Sam is the uncle I don’t want at my bedside
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studios
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, piano, vocals, backup vocals, organ, keyboards and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
The Second Gun
The Second Gun
I am the Second Gun
The one nobody one runs from
When the shooting starts
The huddled will countdown
Until I come around
It’s the sickness in his head
Not the trigger or the lead
That all the grabbers would have you believe
Those are things you just don’t need
I am the Second Gun
The one nobody one runs from
When the shooting starts
The huddled will countdown
Until I come around
You can teach the world to sing
With the harmony it brings
I’ll stand ready in the wings
To defend your life when the first shot rings
When he's got you on your knees
Begging the last of his sanity
Remind him of the gun-free zone
But that’s just where his victims roam
The only way to love and peace
Is deter and protect to keep us free
To stand when called to save the day
From the freaks who will get them anyway
When the bullets start flying
The money starts flowing
And the usual suspects prepare for their live shots
Or write the ledes and leave the truth to bleed
Calling for laws that only hurt you and me
I am the Second Gun
I may be a cop or just someone
Who’s in the right place to do what needs to be done
I carry to carry on
A news flash for the Left
The Second defends the rest
Confiscation is theft
Your Last Rites will be the only ones left
I am the Second Gun
The one nobody one runs from
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studios
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, vocals, backup vocals, and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
Photo credit: Sofia Sforza via Unsplash.com
The Toleratti
The Toleratti
What a strange weird neighborhood
Once off the plane he thought he knew where he stood
He loves those cocktails of whiskey and gin
But someone must have put something else in
Hey hey now
Don’t ask me how
He’s bound and gagged can’t you see
He’s under the thumb of the Toleratti
Doubt in doses keeps your feet on the ground
Too much then you’re in for a pound
Your head’s on a swivel
Getting interest for principles
Kneeling to the wizards who run this town
It’s a nicemare where no one says what he thinks
It’s a nicemare my thoughts on the brink
What do you mean that’s not right to say
I just saw it on a monument yesterday
Hey hey now
Don’t ask me how
He’s bound and gagged can’t you see
He’s under the thumb of the Toleratti
There’s something in the water that’s making you all fools
Trying to make a point when they keep changing all the rules
You don’t want to hurt your feelings
So we’ll stop arguing altogether
Accept your premise we’re to blame for the weather
And everything under the sun
Someone shattered their narrative
That really hits them where they live
The twits are all a-flutter spewing their hate
They don’t think they don’t think
They just regurgitate
The dictionary’s changing faster than the breeze
Let’s have a shootout at the strawman factory
You can call me every name in the book
But you have no respect for those who did what it took
Hey listen up now
We’re screaming out loud
We’re gonna say whatever we please
Here’s a Bronx Salute to the Toleratti
Written, arranged, performed, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studio
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, electric guitar, piano, vocals, backup vocals, and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
The Gloaming
The Gloaming
You had me going
With your speeches and soliloquies
I saw you on the stage
And I cheered at my TV
But why don’t I think you’re always
Doing what you say we believe
We’re starting to get it now
Me and all the plebes
I’ll tell you one more thing
You won’t heed my warning
Cos you listen in stereotypes
To the things they say are alright
I’m gonna take a swing
You won’t see it coming
But you’re gonna wake up
Bruised and groaning
In the gloaming of your little world
I’ve had it with the mushroom treatment
Where you hope something beautiful grows
So I’m gonna send you where
The lightning dare not go
It’s around the corner from
Insult and Injury
Past the thunder of the echo chamber
You’ll be on your knees
I’ll tell you one more thing
You won’t heed my warning
Cos you listen in stereotypes
To the things they say are alright
I’m gonna take a swing
You won’t see it coming
But you’re gonna wake up
Bruised and groaning
In the gloaming of your little world
So you can keep on talking
Talk ‘til you’re green or blue
But you better start walking
Cos your days in the sun are through
I’ll tell you one more thing
You won’t heed my warning
Cos you listen in stereotypes
To the things they say are alright
I’m gonna take a swing
You won’t see it coming
But you’re gonna wake up
Bruised and groaning
In the gloaming of your little world
Written, arranged, performed, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studio
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, piano, lead vocals, backing vocals and drum sequencing
Copyright © Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
Photo credit: Jalal Ajmal via Unsplash
The Faculty Lounge
The Faculty Lounge
It all looks great
From the Faculty Lounge
The Autocratic Method
In the Faculty Lounge
You can’t see for the roses
Through poison ivory
Is this shirt the right color
For the Faculty Lounge
Do you think this ribbon
Goes with brown
Dreaming up solutions
In the Faculty Lounge
For the absolution
Of the kids on the grounds
Kids afraid of their shadows
Double-parked in safe space zones
It’s the curriculum
In the Faculty Lounge
If you think for yourself
We’ll mark you down
We’ll take your brightest for a fee
Reprogram them ‘til they see
All the flaws in who they want to be
They’re our subjects in the lab
We’ll throw their freedom on the slab
Give them triggers they never knew they had
It all sounds great
In the Faculty Lounge
Pushing theories that put
Millions in the ground
We rule Kinder College
Here in Sombertown
Where snowflakes fall
All year round
Melting at the thought
Of a different sound
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studios
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, piano, vocals, backup vocals, keyboards and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
One Tough Mother
With the fall of the wall freedom rang
Reds had nowhere to go
They traded their hammer and sickle for green
And started rolling in the dough
They said oceans will start to rise
And we’re all gonna die
Unless we sacrifice
And give up our way of life
Hey Mr. Green New Deal Man
Answer this for me
Is that high horse you’re ridin’ on
Methane-free
What they think we breathe is a toxic disease
Is really helping the trees
Climate change what a gas
I’ll shove my carbon footprint
Up your
We’ve only been here for a blip
But over eons she’s flipped
From warm to cold and back again
And for that workers take it on the chin
If you really think it’s man
That put us in a frying pan
Sit on a live volcano
And count down from ten
We’re the best at cleaning up a mess
So just get out of our way
There’s family there
In the clean fresh air
And they got their bills to pay
Don’t get me wrong I don’t litter
But I’m sure as hell not bitter
About the factory jobs
That built this town
I hate to burst your bubble
But we’re not in any trouble
Stop this scheme to shame and guilt and rob
We couldn’t kill her if we tried
Something always will survive
The earth is one tough mother
Save the jobs
Round up the data to ridiculous
On your hyperbolic charts
Then round up deniers who know the truth
Who just won’t do their part
With debt piled halfway to the moon
Blackouts roll at noon
Figures don’t lie but liars can figure
That’s the real inconvenient truth
Show me just one study
Not by grifters who want control
Of every aspect of our lives
I’ve never heard so much bull
Don’t get me wrong I don’t litter
But I’m sure as hell not bitter
About the factory jobs
That saved this town
I hate to burst your bubble
But we’re not in any trouble
Stop this scheme to shame and guilt and rob
We couldn’t kill her if we tried
Something always will survive
The earth is one tough mother
Save the jobs
And all the little boys and girls
You’re scaring straight to hell
Trapped in a prison that you made
Their future’s down the well
Tinfoil’s made for cookin’
But that’s a pretty hat
Science ain’t consensus
And that’s a fact jack
It’s just a doomsday cult
Jim Jones would be proud
But Ira Einhorn’s the one unicorn
You just won’t talk about
Don’t get me wrong I don’t litter
But I’m sure as hell not bitter
About the pipeline jobs
That saved this town
I hate to burst your bubble
But we’re not in any trouble
Stop this scheme to shame and guilt and rob
We couldn’t kill her if we tried
Something always will survive
Your panic’s so contrived
Recycled garbage in your hive
It’s a trash heap built on lies
You’re all just commies in disguise
The earth is one tough mother
Save the jobs
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studios
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, vocals, backup vocals, and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
Original Photo Credit: Parrish Freeman via Unsplash
Paper Bones
All your apparent planning
For me and you
Was not for me
Just for you
How can you love rainbows
When you just can’t tolerate pink or blue
Find a home to lay my paper bones
The organ grinder hums a tune
She dare not let you listen to
The sum of my parts is worth
More than your soul
The harvest is in
Was I such a sin
To have been alive without the chance to begin
Inside outside
I’m out of place
But I wonder what you do
So you don’t have to face the truth
Disassembly required
I’m nothing but a healthy leper to you
Find a home to lay my paper bones
The organ grinder hums a tune
She dare not let you listen to
The sum of my parts is worth
More than your soul
The harvest is in
Was I such a sin
To have been alive without the chance to begin
Now that you’ve taken all of me
Don’t you see
I can’t my eyes were sold to satisfy
Your ghoulish greed
Oh no my heart just skipped a beat
Be quick collect your fee
The auction’s high
Bid me a good buy
Leave me in peace to rest my paper bones
The organ grinder hums a tune
She dare not let you listen to
The sum of my parts is worth
More than your soul
The harvest is in
Was I such a sin
To have been alive without the chance to begin
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studio
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, acoustic guitar, lead guitar, vocals, and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit: Tim Mossholder via Unsplash
When Their Saints Come Crawling In
Sometimes before is better than after
When there was laughter
And we were free
Waiting for the choir to get tired
Is no way to achieve
Permission to breathe
You think it’s the luck of the draw
So everyone has to even the score
Competing to see who suffers more
Take it from me no one will win
When their saints come crawling in
Stranded in your station
In a hyphen nation
Nowhere to go
Forced into a profile encouraged
For the right purpose
You reap what they sow
You think it’s the luck of the draw
So everyone has to even the score
Competing to see who suffers more
Take it from me no one will win
When their saints come crawling in
Where did you go Nava Joe
We lost the trail of eggshells
You broke with your toes
You left the reservation without a note
Now they’re coming for the words
That escaped your throat
They’re throwing shade on your skin
With no regard for what beats within
Supporting all lives you’re all in
You just committed the new original sin
Praying on the quad
To the ivory gods
For the right to know your place
You think it’s the luck of the draw
So everyone has to even the score
Competing to see who suffers more
Take it from me no one will win
When their saints come crawling in
Oh geez Frances Bean
What did you do to cause such a scene
You just said what you mean
Now you’re a target of the Blue Machine
Where's the next inquest let me see
We've got a bakery that won't cater to g
She thinks her faith will keep her free ha
Brand her a bigot and burn down her family tree
You think it’s the luck of the draw
So everyone has to even the score
Competing to see who suffers more
Take it from me no one will win
When their saints come crawling
They think our founding was flawed
So they’re the ones to even the score
Competing to see who suffers more
Take it from me no one will win
When their saints come crawling in
When their saints come crawling in
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studio
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitars, lead guitar, lead vocals, backing vocals, keyboards and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.Photo Credit: Fernando Cferdo via Unsplash
Prisoner
Welcome to limbo my new home
Built to suit you cos I’m always alone
You moved me in like what I’ve done with the place
It just needs a door to let me exit with grace
I’m going nowhere I’m taking you with me
I should have known from the start
You’d keep me from leaving now I’m underachieving
You’re tearing my dreams apart
You dangle my world from a string with no care
And dose me with hope just so that I’ll be there
You play the victim as you tighten the noose
Around my neck guess I deserve the abuse
Well I’m going nowhere I’m taking you with me
I should have known from the start
You’d keep me from leaving now I’m underachieving
You’re tearing my dreams apart
I was convinced when you entered the room
That you’ve got a way with something
But you led me in to a gambler’s ruin
And you got away with nothing but me
Ninety-nine bottles and ninety-nine songs
I don’t really blame you for not singing along
But do me a favor cos I’ve done my best
Don’t blame me for doing something you’ll regret
Cos I’m going out there and you can’t come with me
I’m making a brand new start
Now I’m believing I no longer need you
I’m tearing these chains apart
I’m going out there and don’t you come with me
I’m making a brand new start
Now I’m believing I no longer need you
I’m tearing these chains apart
Written, arranged, performed, recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler at Shining City Media Studio
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, acoustic guitar, piano keyboards, vocals, backup vocals, synthesizers and drum sequencing
© 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit: Bethany Szentesi via Unsplash
IOU
Johnny can’t read but he can count to free
It’s all a state of mine
Print and spend it’s all Greek to me
Leave the future behind
A program for this and a program for that
If you survive the womb
It will be on our children’s backs
Long after they reach the tomb
What’s another trillion in debt
Strangled in the safety net
Spending your way to prosperity
Puts more on the government dole
Take my dough for cowboy poetry
But you’ll never take my soul
Oh give me a home where the gov don’t roam
And bureaucrats don’t play
Where never is heard a confiscatory word
And I choose what to do with my pay
We’ve all put in what we’ll never get back
(Never get back)
Why not pass the Happiness Act
(Happiness Act)
IOU
We’re insolvent from Orwell’s utopia
IOU
Whine and scream until your wants are you needs
Just hold your hand in line
The joke’s on you cos nothing comes free
It’s all on your children’s dime
They’ll say you’re entitled to greener pastures
And make the exception the rule
Those sacred cows are eating your future
Don’t feed your kids that bull
Restore the values of grandmoms and dads
(Grandmoms and grandads)
Self-reliance ain’t a fad
(Self-reliance)
IOU
We’re insolvent from Orwell’s utopia
IOU
Down from the hill here comes another spending bill
Must subject my kids to that environmental swill
Can’t withhold my union dues, my kid’s school I cannot choose
Can’t decide on what they eat, they’re being watched by Camera 3
No choice in what I drive, demonized if business thrives
Profit’s a four-letter word they raised the ceiling have you heard
Gotta hide myself to pray it’s offensive they say
They’re growing the ranks of the poor and downtrodden every day
Johnny can’t read but he can count to free
It’s all a state of mine
Print and spend it’s all Greek to me
Leave the future behind
A program for this and a program for that
If you survive the womb
It will be on our children’s backs
Long after they reach the tomb
What’s another trillion in debt
(Great Society)
Strangled in the safety net
(War on Poverty)
IOU
We’re insolvent from Orwell’s utopia
IOU
Let the rich employ the poor
‘Til there are no poor no more
Let the rich employ the poor
‘Til there are no poor no more
I’d love to change the world
And I know just what to do
Written, arranged, performed, mixed, mastered and produced by Jim Loeffler
Jim Loeffler: Bass guitar, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, keyboards, vocals, backup vocals and drum sequencing
Copyright © 2021 Shining City Media LLC. All rights reserved.