In Ukranian traditional folklore, the Domovyk is the house spirit, also called khoziain, or master of the house. I wrote and recorded this guitar instrumental specifically for the Kickstarter video for Sticks and Bones: Issue 1 – Home Is Where the Hearth Is. The project is for a comic book created by Valya Dudycz Lupescu and artist Madeline C. Matz. You should totally fund it!

Anyway, here’s the first draft of the song!:

The Domovyk’s Lament by Rob Lambert

LYRICS:

Well, the end times are here,
May as well have a beer…
We’ve had a good run,
But we’ll all disappear… Tomorrow.

It’s the end of the road,
And the seeds that we sowed,
Will be forgotten …
When the sky implodes…. Tomorrow.

At least I don’t have to do
That performance review
for my soul-sucking job
That’s long over-due… Tomorrow.

But we better prepare,
for the place upstairs.
Let’s say our prayers,
and hope we go there, Tomorrow.

It’s the end of the world, As we know it, And I feel fine.
I stole that line for ….. “Tomorrow”.

Today is the greatest day I have ever known,
We’ve got tonight, who….. needs………………
Tomorrow…..

Well, the news got it wrong
This is not our swan song.
We’re gonna make it,
A whole lot longer than Tomorrow

So what shall we do,
Now that we are not through
When the sun shines on,
The morning dew… Tomorrow?

Let’s order breakfast in bed,
And then instead,
Of going to work, let’s
Rejoice we’re not dead…
All … day …… Tomorrow

(c)2011 Rob Lambert

LYRICS:
During morning coffee & toast
I was dreaming about the west coast
And trying to think of reasons we should stay…

…Here in this morbid cold
And when I saw that bread mold
(It) was a sign that today was the day

I know it sounds cliche
But I see no reason to delay…

Let’s just sell our shit and move away-ayyyyyyyyy.

I don’t care if it is fool’s gold.
This state is getting old,
… like a dirty ashtray.

Who cares where, let’s just go west,
Illinois makes me depressed.
Let’s sell our shit and move away.

I know it sounds cliche
But I see no reason to delay…

Let’s just sell our shit and move away-ayyyyyyyy.

move away-ayyyyyyyyy
move away-ayyyyyyyyy
move away-ayyyyyyyyy

(c)2011 Rob Lambert

Something feels wrong, but I ignore it. I’m somewhat mesmerized by this song.

I’m reading the lyrics as Molly sings it.

“So deep into the orchard, you will stumble on the skin of snakes. So let me know your nerves, we’ll lose the road. And I will boil the curtains to extract the drugs of springtime, but the unicorn it stirs up as a mule.”

What is he talking about?

Something really feels terribly wrong.

I look up and there’s a flickering orange and yellow glow coming from the kitchen.

I run to the stove. My tea pot is on fire. Bad. Oh shit. Big fire.

I turn the burner off.

“Wait… you can’t throw water on the stove … or can you? That’s just for a grease fire.”

I fill a pan with water and throw it on the fire. Smoke fills the air and the fire half goes out. But it half doesn’t go out.

I grab the burning teapot with an oven mitt and move it to the counter onto a dirty plate. The teapot is still burning a little. The burner is quite a bit still on fire.

I fill two more pans with water and put the fires all the way out.

The stench of smoke and burning plastic fills the house.

Man, the ancient white curtains in our kitchen could’ve easily caught fire and then … oh man oh man.  Wow, it would’ve been embarrassing to let the firefighters see our house in the state that it is in!

Thank God I caught it on time.

Moral of the story:

Kids, don’t fill the electric kettle with water and put it on a lit burner on the gas stove to make your tea. That’s not how those things work!

After fighting the fire for what seemed like 15 minutes (it was probably more like 2 minutes), I returned to the super-smokey dining room. And shining through the smoke, there was the glow of Molly Robison‘s face and guitar coming out of my computer screen and she was *still* singing “I Said, Throw Me In The Fire Now, Come On!” Surreal.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Bad Day at the Circus!

LYRICS
I drive my Zamboni to work
I drive my Zamboni to school
I drive my Zamboni to the bank clerk.
If you saw my Zamboni, you would drool.

I drive my Zamboni to Starbucks
I drive my Zamboni to Chipotle
I drive my Zamboni to get my yucks,
My Zamboni and I like to play croquet

Me and my Zamboni
Me and my Zamboni

I drive my Zamboni to New York
I drive my Zamboni to L.A.,
My Zamboni listens to Bjork,
And anything by Marvin Gaye.

I drive my Zamboni to Petsmart
I drive my Zamboni to the zoo
If my Zamboni ever fell apart,
I do not know what I would do.

Me and my Zamboni
Me and my Zamboni

I wish I could snuggle with my Zamboni in bed
Sometimes I just sleep on top of it, instead

Me and my Zamboni
Me and my Zamboni

LYRICS
———-
Empty cup.
Empty vines.
Empty space,
Between the lines.

Empty seat.
Empty bottle.
Empty road.
Can’t find the throttle.

Empty sky.
Empty promise.
Empty tomb.
I don’t blame Thomas.

Empty wall.
Empty space.
Empty the calendar,
Just in case.
–
Empty arms.
Empty heart.
Empty mind.
What is my part?

Empty stomach, I fill with
Empty calories.
Empty canvases
in the galleries.

Empty nights, turn into
Empty days.
Empty thoughts.
I’m in a haze.

Empty feelings.
All around.
An empty vessel, makes the loudest sound.*

(*last line is by my friend, William Shakespeare, hope he doesn’t get mad at me)

UPDATE!

Exclusive outtake featuring Einstein Mary spilling the neti pot water into the computer!:

UPDATE #2:
Bad Day at the Circus has their very own website now: www.baddayatthecircus.com! You can also like them on Facebook: BDATC on Facebook!

LYRICS:
This is an ode to the vibraslap.
As fun to play with as bubble wrap.
It’s more refreshing than taking a crap.
I keep mine on a shoulder strap,
And this is the sound of the vibraslap: ……

Get the exact one we have! http://amzn.to/dG1Usu

For you crazy youngsters not familiar with this original tune, check it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fH850qp85Zk

LYRICS BELOW THE VIDEO!

LYRICS

Outsourced my love life, logistics are tricky.
Not as satisfying, but quite a lot less sticky.
Trivandrum, India to Kiev, Ukraine.
It’s not as much fun, but it’s half the pain.
It’s not as much fun, but it’s half the pain.

I outsourced my love!
Outsourced my love life!
I outsourced my love!
Outsourced my love life!

Bangalore, Delhi, Chennai, Mumbai,
It really doesn’t matter that I am so shy.
Shanghai, Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Beijing
No guilt if it turns out to be just a fling.
There’s no guilt if it turns out to be just a fling.

I outsourced my love!
Outsourced my love life!
I outsourced my love!
Outsourced my love life!

This is not ideal, for a warm embrace,
And it’s really quite tough to just to get to first base.
At least I don’t have to break up face-to-face.

This is not ideal for a warm embrace,
And it’s really quite tough to just to get to first base.
(let alone home)(let alone home)(let alone home)(let alone home)

Outsourced my love life, logistics are tricky.
Not as satisfying, but quite a lot less sticky.
Trivandrum, India to Kiev, Ukraine.
It’s not as much fun, but it’s half the pain.
It’s not as much fun, but it’s half the pain.

I outsourced my love!
Outsourced my love life!
I outsourced my love!
Outsourced my love life!

LYRICS BELOW THE VIDEO!

LYRICS
Please baby, baby save me from this craze.
Booze me up, drug me up & leave me in a haze.
What I need right now is a great big buzz that stayeeeees.
Oh put me in a coma for the holi-holidayeeeeees.

Oh yes the weather outside is frightful.
And those shoppers are far from delightful.
And if those carolers come here, they’ll be met with a rifle.
Just put me in a coma, for the holi-holidayeeeeees.

Oh Santa Claus is not comin’ to town.
At least our chimney’s one that he ain’t comin’ down.
Let’s skip Christmas this year and have no concern,
Cause in just 12 months it’s gonna return.

Oh deck the halls with nothing because I will be numb,
On whiskey, vodka, beer, Coca-Cola and rum.
I’m gonna have a party, and not a soul can come.
Cause I’ll be in a coma, for the holi-holidayeeeeees.

Oh Santa Claus is not comin’ to town.
At least our chimney’s one that he ain’t comin’ down.
Let’s skip it this year and have no concern,
Cause in 12 damn months it’s gonna return.

Oh hush that stupid bell, cause I can’t spare a dime.
Cause I threw in a dollar when I passed you last time.
And I just spent the rest here on a case o’ Milwaukee’s Best beer-eeeeer.
I’m gonna induce a coma for the holi-holidayeeeeees.

Oh Santa Claus ain’t comin’ to town.
At least our chimney’s one that he ain’t comin’ down.
Let’s skip it this year and have no concern,
Cause in 12 damn months it’s gonna return.

Please baby, baby save me from this craze.
Booze me up, drug me up, leave me in a haze.
Please put me in a coma for the holidayeeeeees.
Oh put me in a coma…for the holi-holidayeeeeees.

I swear, this one is totally random… no reason for picking this one! I don’t even know anyone named Mary!

This may have been better with electric/distortion, but hey, um, well, I didn’t do that.

I think Mary and I are going to be Jack and Meg for Halloween by the way!

Here’s the fine video!…

Here are the words (that I didn’t write!) if you want ‘em:

Now, Mary
Can’t you find a way
To bring me down?
I’m so sorry
That I had to go
And let you down

Knowing you I think
Things are gonna be fine
But then again you’ll
Probably change your mind

I’m sorry, Mary, but
Being your mate
Means trying to find something
That you aren’t going to hate
What a season
To be beautiful
Without a reason

Knowing you I think
Things are gonna be fine
But then again you’ll
Probably change your mind

Mary
Can’t you find a way
To bring me down?

Doodle made by Rob Lambert of Jack and Meg White between testing cycles at work!

Special guests Pablo with an audible Hampton shaking his collar and barking (asking me to take him on an overdue walk).

LYRICS

I love my secret admirer

She may be ugly,
She may be hot.
She might drink beer,
She may prefer pot.

She may be dangerous,
She may play it safe.
She may be large,
or maybe a waif.

She may be wise,
She may be clueless,
She may tell lies,
She may have lupus.

Either way,
I’d have to say
I love my secret admirer

I love my secret admirer

She may be cheerful,
She may be grumpy,
She may be stylin’
She may be frumpy.

She may be nice,
She may be rude,
She may be willing,
She may be a prude.

She may be unsightly,
she may be hot.
She may be large,
but maybe she’s not.

Either way,
I’d have to say
I love my secret admirer.

Here are the words if you want to sing along … my favorite line is “drink, drink, drink and be ill tonight!”

I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday
‘Cause you’re evil and you lie and if you should die
I may feel slightly sad (but I won’t …cry)

Loved and lost and some may say
When usually it’s nothing surely you’re happy it should be this way?
I say “No, I’m gonna kill my dog”
And “May the lines sag, may the lines sag heavy and deep tonight”

I’ve come to wish you an unhappy birthday
‘Cause you’re evil and you lie
And if you should die I may feel slightly sad (But I won’t cry)

Loved and lost and some may say
When usually it’s nothing surely you’re happy
It should be this way?
I said “No” and then I shot myself
So, drink, drink, drink
And be ill tonight

From the one you left behind
Behind

I’m sure you’re a little over-saturated with “104 Songs” with me putting out 3 songs in 2 days … rest easy, I’m going to give the recordings a rest for at least a week and work on polishing up some original tunes

So here’s song #14 “Jimmy Olsen’s Blues” by the Spin Doctors (from their fine record Pocketful of Kryptonite, which produced a couple of songs that you may have heard once or twice in the 90′s such as the severely under-played Two Princes <– that’s a YouTube of the video, I dare you to watch it! )

I hope you are enthralled as my faithful dog, Pablo, is (seen sitting to
… the right of me). I made this black and white so you can imagine me in any color that you like!

This one is just a sketch and it needs some editing and something else, but I am kind of amused by Mary busting in on me at the beginning … so I’m going with this take for my song #11 …

LYRICS “I Would Still Choose You”

If all I knew
About you
Was what I knew
When I met you
I am sure
Yes I am sure
I would still
I would still choose you

Oh … when I met you …
I didn’t know about your chronic runny nose
And when I met you I had no clue
about your unsightly crooked toes
And when I met you
I’d never read your reams of embarrassing prose

Oh … when I met you …
I didn’t know about the wounds you were lickin’
And when I met you
I had no clue about the scabs you were pickin’
When I met you I knew not of
your irrational fear of chicken!

If all I knew
About you
Was what I knew
When I met you
I am sure
Yes I am sure
I would still
I would still choose you

Oh … when I met you …
I had no idea about your gambling debts
And I’d never ever ever
smelled your smelliest of smelly pets
And when I met you
I’d never ever seen a fit of your mild Tourettes

When I met you I didn’t know
about your various addictions
And also I did not know
about your federal convictions
And when I met you I had no clue
of your challenging dietary restrictions

If all I knew
About you
Was what I knew
When I met you
I am sure
Yes I am sure
I would still …
I would still choose you

When I met you I didn’t know about
all the stuff you’ve stolen
And I was not aware of how often
many of your parts are swollen
And I didn’t fully comprehend the extent
of your overactive colon

When I met you I didn’t know about
your constant malaise
And I didn’t know about your
radical right-wing ways
And when I met you I didn’t know about
obsessive Enya phases

If all I knew
About you
Was what I knew
When I met you
I am sure
Yes I am sure
I would still …
I would still choose you