Track #1 Man or Mouse The buildings burning at your backside you’re on the ledge No one can hear your cries for help, you are desperate Too bad you like to play with fire so the blames on you You better take it like a man, what you gonna do? Fall or fly, do or die, sink or swim, jump or jive Better make your mind up fast Bad times don’t wait and good times don’t last Tell me brother, you man or you mouse? The rock is coming down the hill you’ve been pushing up It was a pretty rotten deal but you’ve got strange luck The gods are laughing in your face, not just one but two You’re told to take it like a man, what you gonna do? Fall or fly, do or die, sink or swim, jump or jive Better make your mind up fast Bad times don’t wait and good times don’t last Tell me brother, you man or you mouse? Little man, big mouth, no one home, empty house Got high and gone down, up turned and turned out, Passed it on and around, a round heel, final bout Don’t you doubt what about, so Fall or fly, do or die, sink or swim, jump or jive Better make your mind up fast Bad times don’t wait and good times don’t last Tell me brother, you man? Your ship is taking water up and over the bridge And as the captain you’re supposed to stay with the ship But you can see that little rowboat has space for you So what’s it mean to be the man, what you gonna do? Fall or fly, do or die, sink or swim, jump or jive Better make your mind up fast Bad times don’t wait and good times don’t last Fall or fly, do or die Sink or swim, jump or jive Better make your mind up fast Tell me brother, you man or you mouse? Are you man or you mouse? Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Copyright 2010

Track #2 Sex Crime Sex crime bee sting, buzz kill Back slide, pile driver Hot head rough trade Black hat big dick Nightstick, pinprick, cheap trick Hands on knees parting the seas Bury the yard iron deep Match on the tongue Look what you’ve done Tonight we won’t get any sleep Strap on sling back, high heel cruel shoe Balls blue baby Strip tease bug bite Cockfight can can, real man take my hand Hands on knees say pretty please Saltwater taffy cream jeans Cat got your tongue Look what I’ve done Tonight we won’t get any sleep Hot box hand job, jack off big dog, Dumb luck daddy Thigh high joy ride Greased up man sized Deep down inside, won’t you try? Hands on knees carnival freaks Under the big top sweet geek Biting your tongue Look we’ve done Tonight we won’t get any sleep Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Copyright 2010

Album: Vonnegut’s Wife Track # 3 Hit Me Black silk made of innuendo, a swath of lip pink rope Backstitch dropped into the pillow, the taste of perfumed smoke Nylons can be double crossed at ankles and at wrists And love is good at any cost with flowers or with fists Go ahead and hit me with kisses and confessions Go ahead and hit me with lies and sweet obsessions Bend me to your will make me understand Go ahead and hit me if you can Black lace masking bruises oh the cherries stain you good Back break biting juices, ha, it seems you thought you could Take me make me lick me wake me from this stupid dream Shake me turn me pull me round to hit to hurt to scream Go ahead and hit me with kisses and confessions Go ahead and hit me with lies and sweet obsessions Bend me to your will make me understand Go ahead and hit me if you can Chocolate blood drip drug and wine Espresso grease an axe to grind And anything to wake me from this still life utter bore And anything to make me sister goddess mother whore Black eyed honey night sweats a bed of twisted sheets Backside running fishnets make a greedy grip of sweets Don’t’ be such a baby and I wont be a tease I need you almost as you need me to scream Go ahead and hit me with kisses and confessions Go ahead and hit me with lies and sweet obsessions Bend me to your will make me understand Go ahead and hit me if you can Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Michiko Freemond – (BMI)

Track # 4 Vonnegut’s Wife Pints of gin and sagging hems Typewriters like old best friends Sail along the dusk like gondoliers Trotsky’s child gave up the ghost And like him I’m keeping notes But some things don’t mean as much to me Ooo hello mother night, goodbye simple life Trial by fire you ought to see Like Vonnegut’s wife, oh like Vonnegut’s wife Should have told the truth, should have told a lie Ordinary love, ordinary life Sirens sing us out to sea Should have held a hand, should have turned a stone When your dead our dead, are we flesh and bone? Should have seen the light, should have closed me eyes Ordinary blue, ordinary sky Titans, monsters, oh and then there’s me Should have kissed your face, should have found a home When your dead our dead, are we flesh and bone? Are we all what we pretend to be? Ooo hello mother night, goodbye simple life Trial by fire you ought to see Like Vonnegut’s wife, oh like Vonnegut’s wife Huckleberry’s darkest twin Saw a world that ruins most men Glitter teardrops eyes like chandeliers Bury me in all you’ve heard So it goes with final words Give my best to those who think of me Ooo hello mother night, goodbye simple life Trial in the fire that you ought to see Like Vonnegut’s wife Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Copyright 2010

Track #5 Hard Act to Follow Don’t you ever get tired of being nice all the time? I bet sometimes it must get you down Opening doors for little old ladies and rescuing kittens from trees Stopping at the yellow lights or waving someone in Shirt off your back for some toothless bums grin Don’t you ever get tired? Don’t you ever get tired of being good all the time? I bet sometimes it must get real old Smiling for no reason at everyone you meet Doling out kind words like cupcakes Always thinking of the poor man the orphan the cheat Taking it on the chin and then you’re turning the cheek Christ you’re a hard act to follow Lord you got big shoes to fill God that’s a hard act to follow And most of us just don’t have that kind of time to kill And how I wonder what it’s like for you ‘Cause even saints can sometimes get the blues And few do what you say, not what you do Christ you’re a hard act to follow Lord you got big shoes to fill God that’s a hard act to follow And most of us just don’t have that kind of iron will Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Christian Nesmith – Neztoons Publishing (BMI)

Track #6 Hungry Men Couches lurk on sidewalks here Like souls marooned on Sundays Way out back a hole is dug He’s buried something ugly Stagger down with Pavlov’s mouth Smiles for all the honeys All the men round here are wild And all of them are hungry Boneyard ladies hardly ever sleep Boneyard ladies are always in reach Tangled up in old nylons She bears one thousand secrets Ankles scarred by way of teeth There’s some for all who need it’s Dragging down with stale perfume Anything for money All the men round here are wild And all of them are hungry Bone yard ladies hardly ever sleep Bone yard ladies are always in reach Written By Circe Link Narccisiphus Music 2007 (BMI) Copyright 2010

Track #7 Friends Like You You’ve upset the apple cart By taking your pick from the middle, oh boy Then you take the cake and while you eat it You’re begging for more Always looking to find free lunch Always in the wrong mind for much And when the check comes you’ve gone and left me the bill With friends like you, such sweet atrocities You bite and chew upon the hand that feeds With friends like you, and all you seem to be With friends like you, who needs enemies? Easy as a pie you’ve baked yourself A whole world of trouble, my dear Hear the crows inside a humble slice is calling your name Never birds of the same feather Never been in the foul weather And straight as they fly they always come home to roost With friends like you, and all you do for me Who fly the coop, in any time of need With friends like you, I’m left to go to seed With friends like you, who needs enemies? Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) John Classick Copyright 2010

Track #8 Jazz Noon Here come the hooligans and dogfights There goes the last shred of hope Halfhearted swinging on the main line Blue eyes in milky red soup bowls Getting on, getting older, getting by, getting over Go see the other side of midnight Come see the dark side of the moon He’s bleeding out all the good life He’s getting high at jazz noon, jazz noon Bets down, last chance to hit the big time He wins who dies with all the most He’s got a million down on paper Just ink on dirty little notes Going round, going out, goings on, going down Go see the city in the moonlight Come hear the thief sing the tune He cut his teeth on his own heart He took a life at jazz noon Catgut killers blowing smoke rings Dead men tell secrets of their own Sounds like the whole thing was a bad dream Looks like he was just flesh and bone Gone before, gone awry, gone and told ya, now you’ve gone and lied Go see the one who missed the last flight Come see the Nowhere Man fool He’s bleeding out all the good life He’s getting high at jazz noon, jazz noon Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Copyright 2010

Track #9 Bad Taste Oh brother look out comes trouble again You know the sticky pink and glossy kind that don’t ever end I see it coming down the pike and crossing over the line Such a dirty little dream but it’s a mighty good time Ya know it’s sad to say, I think it’s really sad to say If there’s a rotten apple stuck in the bunch I’m sure that you would forsake others just get you a touch A cotton candy skirt is climbing up and over her knees Like a sinking ship you go down, begging her please You know it’s ad to say, no pitty baby, sad to say You’ve got bad taste, you broke your picker Cat and mouse chase, but who is quicker It’s a big waste, it’s the awful truth You’ve got bad taste and the jokes on you One person’s pleasure is another ones pain And there’s a tall one at the bar and there you go again A chocolate cherry kiss and snake bite hips is all that it takes You’re just a sucker for rotten egg with a pretty face Ya know it’s sad to say, good grief its really sad to say You’ve got bad taste, you broke your picker Such a headache, but here’s the kicker It’s a big waste it’s the awful truth You got bad taste and the jokes on you Ooo you like the feeling of the burning kind Ooo around your neck a pretty noose to wind Ooo such a scene but baby you’re the crime So there’s no moral, no real story to tell You pick the losing pony every time and bet all your wealth You lose your shirt, you lose your heart And then you’re losing your mind Pardon if I have a laugh, I know it’s unkind and in Bad taste, you broke your picker Drunk the whole case, can’t hold your liqueur It’s a big waste it’s the awful truth You’ve got bad taste and the jokes on you Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Christian Nesmith – Neztoons Publishing (BMI) Copyright 2010

Track #10 Jesus Drank All the Wine Down on my knees at the catholic church Praying for crimes yet to come I saw a man come down off the cross Confused at what he had done From the wound in his side to his darkest brown eyes I over flowed with lust With the red on his breath said he’d made such a mess Jesus has drunk all the wine, my lord and what’s left for us? Jesus has drunk all the wine you see And hopped a greyhound bus One must do what one must, one must do what one must Jesus has drunk all the wine, and what’s left for us? Jesus has drunk all the wine my lord And hopped a greyhound bus Down at the bar called the golden calf Dreaming of years yet to come I saw that man climb up on his chair Right back where he had started from From the touch of his hand and a glimpse of my thigh He stumbled in disgust With his head on my breast said he really needed a rest Jesus you’ve drunk all the wine you see, now what’s left for us? Jesus has drunk all the wine, my lord And hopped a greyhound bus One must do what one must, one must do what one must Written By Circe Link – Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Copyright 2010

Track #11 Something’s Missing Satellites and sunbeams crash to the ground Killing time and killing me the toxic countdown Suicides, official lies, and killers who care TV lives the shuck and jive till no ones home there People starve for vanity for art and for shame On all who had to have some more of more of the same Well no one here is listening, anyway So I’ll say what I feel, and now the ship is listing ‘Cause no one here is listening, but ya know In the deep, feel asleep, stormy sea, could it be something’s missing? Hand grenades and hand guns just right for the kids They advertise while adding lives to lists of those who don’t live, anymore Psychoactive psychopaths on psychotic pills A nation of quiet junkies monkey backed and so ill Illiterate illegitimates wonder why they’re so bored With lowered expectations asking, what’s it all for? No one here is listening, anyway So I’ll say what I mean, ’cause now the world is sickening And no one here is listening to me but ya know Pulled the rug, took the drug, nice and snug, tell you what, something’s missing No one here is listening, anyway So I’ll say what I mean No one here is listening, listening to me but it’s true Made my case, such a waste, final stage, a little late, something’s missing Written By Circe Link Narccisiphus Music (BMI) Copyright 2010