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Playing God

by Bob Hillman

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1.
Little Things 04:12
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Once upon a time I was champion of the world A regular celebrity in case you haven’t heard Constantly surrounded by packs of screaming girls Made the scene in magazines all around the world They would wait for hours must to shake my hand I’d duck out the back in a secret unmarked van Once upon a time I was Emperor of Rome I had a funny name and the city-state was home There’s a lot to do when your Emperor of Rome Like engineering aqueducts and building modern roads Like racing hot-rod chariots inside the hippodrome Like persecuting Christians, listen to the moan It’s the cat scratch It’s the brown hair It’s the cotton shirt on your thinking chair I don’t want everything Just the little things Once upon a time I was ornery as hell I didn’t talk to people who didn’t know me well I didn’t talk to people whose names I couldn’t spell I didn’t talk to people whose records didn’t sell But I don’t know a soul whose records did sell So I spent a lot of time in meetings with myself Now I talk in circles so no one understands The nature of my comprehensive, long-rage plans It’s the cat scratch And the brown hair It’s the cotton shirt on your thinking chair I don’t want everything Just the little things
2.
Spitting Nails 03:50
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You don’t know me, you will understand People make demands on me Helpful tips like “get your ass in gear” “Don’t show any fear,” OK… I quit school and took the beach in stride My favorite place to hide, it’s safe We tell stories and call each other names Cheat at stupid games all day Pack of old men snickering While the dust is gathering They’re the ones doing nothing Everything is beautiful Just you wait and see You are only wasting breath Spitting nails at me I’ve been clearing brush on Patrick’s ranch My twenty-seventh chance to make good Cuts and scratches up and down my arms Won’t do any harm, touch wood I give all the orders here Don’t mess with the engineer Soon I will be in the clear Everything is beautiful Just you wait and see You are only wasting breath Spitting nails at me
3.
I Turn Slowly Around 04:40
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I walked a mile in your apartment yesterday Whistling labor tunes and plotting larceny The choice is always strike or steal Without a miracle or some gigantic heist We’ll be forced to live on water and crushed ice Just when I am making plans Like some fine, upstanding man I think suddenly of you One thing that is true That’s when I turn I turn slowly around and I see you Combing through your family albums I could see A well-adjusted girl and a happy family Everyone is having so much fun There can never be a healthy solstice where People languish in uncomfortable chairs The anachronistic riles Come from English public schools When I fantasize with tact I would have you back That’s when I turn I turn slowly around when I see you I parked my nose against the window through the day Watching Little League and wishing I could play I occupied the owner’s box There was happiness and all that sort of thing I drank a beer to celebrate the rites of Spring While I hurled armchair catcalls Prayed for errant foul balls I was suddenly aware Of someone standing there That’s when I turned I turn slowly around and I see you
4.
When I Wrote the Book 04:08
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When I wrote the book I did my best To tell the truth and all the rest But no one really was impressed By what I had to say So I cooked up some anecdotes Bent the truth and blew some smoke Linked Madonna to the Pope And I was on my Mary way, I was on my When I wrote the book I knew that I could rule the world When I wrote the book When I wrote the book I was surprised That everyone would rush to buy A pack of utter bullshit lies For thirteen ninety-five Apparently the price was right Or people aren’t so very bright Or maybe they just saw the light I made those people feel alive, I made them feel When I wrote the book I knew that I could rule the world When I wrote the book When I wrote the book I did foresee A boon for the economy And life in high society For me and all my friends But now that I am on my spree I buy up everything I see And keep it all for me, me, me I take whatever heaven sends, I take whatever When I wrote the book I knew that I could rule the world When I wrote the book
5.
Everyone's An Actor in New York 03:15
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Everyone’s an actor in New York Everyone’s an actor in New York No one can afford to see movies anymore But everyone’s an actor in New York They study method And go out on auditions And spend their inheritance On ten sets of head shots And go to Los Angeles To get in commercials Everyone’s an actor in New York Everyone’s a writer in New York Everyone’s a writer in New York No one can afford hardcover books anymore But everyone’s a writer in New York They’re always listening To Coltrane and Mingus To pick up the rhythm And set it down on paper And they win awards that No one’s ever heard of Everyone’s a writer in New York Everyone’s an artist in New York Everyone’s an artist in New York No one can afford to buy art now or before But everyone’s an artist in New York They live in Williamsburg Because it is cheaper But it isn’t cheaper Unless you’re a plumber Or really good at wiring And don’t mind freezing To death out in Brooklyn Everyone’s an artist in New York Everyone’s an actor Everyone’s a writer And everyone’s an artist in New York
6.
Witchcraft Lover 03:21
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She’s a witchcraft lover She knows how to make you tell the truth She goes undercover You don’t see her coming and she’s shadow proof Maybe she’s been dabbling in all the ancient spells again She might know the powers that be She could be a devotee of modern hypnotherapy Or maybe she just likes the look of me She can put me under With an incantation I can barely hear It’s a cool, deep slumber I’ve been lying on a black sand beach for twenty years She could be the instrument of unexpected providence She might have the power of decree Maybe this is sorcery, premeditated deviltry Or maybe she just likes the look of me She has friends who don’t understand a word she says And she has friends who like in wait and secret every word away She’s a witchcraft lover And she doesn’t give a damn either way She doesn’t give a damn either way
7.
List of Enemies 03:24
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Here’s my list of enemies Pasted on the bedroom all Catch the early morning light These are names I’ve seen before Should I spell it out? All these people fucked me over When I was down You were arrogant and proud Pushed me around Like a third-rate, two-bit, one-hit wonder Working on my list of enemies Contemplating painful injuries This is premeditated Working on my list of enemies You might not remember me You may call me Robespierre I’ll set up the guillotine You have John the Baptist hair Holier than thou I’ll teach you to be self-righteous When I was down You were Prince of the Playground Don’t make a sound I am King at last and heads are rolling Working on my list of enemies Turn around and get down on your knees This is an execution Working on my list of enemies
8.
Playing God 03:33
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I was playing I was playing God It’s my favorite game Toss around some blame Raise a little Cain You can do that when you’re God What an earthly chore Rifling your drawers Praise the goddamned Lord I found some money in there Here’s a secret If you can keep a secret I’m not really God I was only playing God I was playing I was playing God I gave you a scare In the kitchen there I am everywhere The word is “omni-potent” Don’t call the police I’m the Prince of Peace Read the Gospels, please We don’t do vengeance anymore Here’s a secret If you can keep a secret I’m not really God I was only playing God
9.
Saint Anne 03:23
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All this happened pretty damn quick Traded him for rhetoric He can’t prove she did him wrong She things it was martyrdom Where’s the love, is it just gone? Gone for Saint Anne Unrequited feelings will Strangle any urge to kill Half-baked sentimental thoughts Hatched in earnest, right or not Play the game, but don’t get caught Caught with Saint Anne When your plans are ill-devised Doesn’t pay to advertise Details spread, the story grew Like most rumors, it was true The only one who never knew Lives with Saint Anne He was shocked when she denied Playing them from either side Standard double agent scam Lining up the also-rans Working fast without a plan Good work, Saint Anne Everyone congratulate The newly chosen patron saint Passion wasn’t good enough Endless love and all that stuff Sacrifice when things get rough Rough for Saint Anne After all the drunken days Reunions and passion plays He’ll take home a useful tool Her version of the Golden Rule Take thy neighbor for a fool Fool for Saint Anne
10.
Salem 05:19
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The first one asked me for money The second asked me for change That was a pointed question! Very naïve for a woman her age Everyone values opinions Leastwise that’s what you think I turned around, dumbfounded, and skittered away I was up all night watching A case on Court TV I heard the whole sob story And sided with justice eventually The defendant was humble and gracious There in his front row seat Biding his time, expecting nothing from me They had shiny ideas Round like something to say But there’s no use diving for pearls In the shallow part of the world Consider the case of Salem Nineteen women were burned They were a threat to the God-fearing souls Determined to live in a God-fearing world Maybe those women were witches The incantations and spells Just flew away. So what if they never returned? They had shiny ideas Round like something to say But there’s no use diving for pearls In the shallow part of the world
11.
$100 Bills 05:08
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I made arrangements far into the night Flew into a passion so that everything would be just right The flight to Paris. the six-room luxury suite Starched white servants standing by Attentive yet discreet Try some caviar or the Strasbourg pie I’m no millionaire but I would throw it all away for you Ballroom dancing in an empty banquet hall The orchestra will strike up any tune you’d like to call The Russian dancers, the circus acrobats They’re all here for you, my dear, tonight the world is flat Have some more champagne, after-dinner port Drink up everything cuz life is much too short And I’m no millionaire but I would throw it all away for you Laughing Giving up without a fight Breaking glass and howling at the night Throwing hundred dollar bills into the fire Glowing embers, piles of sheepskin rugs Satisfied, we shut our eyes and fall to making love Greet the morning with rash improvidence Read the morning paper though we don’t speak any French The Brazilian coffee, crepes and confitures There’s no epilogue here, it’s the overture I’m no millionaire but I would throw it all away for you Laughing Giving up without a fight Breaking glass and howling at the night Throwing hundred dollar bills into the fire
12.
This Didn't Happen To Me 03:52
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This didn’t happen to me It was someone else entirely I was involved to some degree But this didn’t happen to me I didn’t have to face my family Tell them the truth and accept sympathy Answer their questions intelligently I didn’t have to face my family I didn’t have to be strong Choose a direction and stumble along Never sure if a choice might be wrong I didn’t have to be strong I didn’t have to know my fate Consider my mortality and re-evaluate Love all the people that I used to hate I didn’t have to know my fate This didn’t happen to me It was someone else entirely I was involved to some degree But this didn’t happen to me

credits

released September 1, 1999

Bob Hillman: acoustic guitar, vocals
David Hamburger: electric, slide, and baritone guitars, dobro, pedal steel
Sal Maida: bass
Dave Bush: drums
Tom Minson: percussion
Mike Ragogna: harmony, percussion
Larry Fast: keyboards
Chris Tedesco: violin
Jason Glasser: cello (1, 8)
Gerrall Heiser: cello (6)

Produced by Tommy West
Recorded and mixed by Tommy West Somewhere in New Jersey
Mastered by Nick Blagona at MetalWorks Studios (Mississauga, Ontario)

Photography by John Halpern
Design by Virtual Farm Creative

All songs by Bob Hillman ©1999 Lap Cat Music/Further West Music (ASCAP)

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Bob Hillman San Francisco, California

Bob Hillman is navigating the second act of a career that began in the late 90s, flourished in the early 00s, survived ten years of “real jobs,” and resumed in 2016 with the Peter Case- produced Lost Soul.

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