Apple Baseball Suite (Year​-​of​-​EPs #8)

by Danny Saucedo

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about

Year-of-EPs #8: The guys and I are really proud to present this month's EP. This whole project is about pushing ourselves to try new things and so this month we worked with the delightful and talented Apple Quartet.

credits

released April 30, 2011

Recorded and Produced by Evan Owen

The Apple Quartet is:
Sara Herrera (Violin)
Audrey Nelson (Violin)
Lisa Skultety (Cello)
Whitney Smith (Viola)

String arrangements by Evan Owen

Drums by Ian Shaw
Bass, Electric Guitar and Bells by Evan Owen

tags

license

all rights reserved
Track Name: Apple Disco
Who knew the greatest food in the world grew
Above my head each morning, and fell at my feet each night

Take a bite, bite, take a bite
Take a bite, bite, take a bite

How come nobody told me that I should climb the trees?
How come nobody told me apples were good for me?
Instead I grew bitter, eating sweet clementines
While inside I withered, shrinking from the rind

She knew, the goddess of the apples knew what I should do
She knew, the goddess of the apples knew what I should do

Take a bite, bite, take a bite
Take a bite, bite, take a bite

At night we gathered, feeling rotten straight to our cores
Screaming our grievances to the great outdoors
I (bawled/balled) my frustrations right into an angry fist
And I launched an apple into the darkness

She knew, the goddess of the apples knew what I should do
She knew, the goddess of the apples knew what I should do

Take a bite, bite, take a bite
Take a bite, bite, take a bite

We entered her temple and we counted (all) her heavenly consorts
And when the time came I declared my love through public concert
But who knew that all I had to do was
Take a bite, take a bite

No teams and no innings, no one was keeping score
No lose and no winning, but we kept coming back for more
How come nobody told me that I should swing for the trees
How come nobody told me she was waiting for me

She knew, the goddess of the apples knew what I should do
She knew, the goddess of the apples knew what I should do

Take a bite, bite, take a bite
Take a bite, bite, take a bite
Track Name: Apple Baseball (Part One)
With an intensity to rival a punk rock drummer, frantic like the last days of summer
As you drift through days of endless slumber, whisper to yourself no more bummers

I cannot promise you a good ending, but I can promise character development
I cannot promise you you’ll learn anything, but I promise time can’t be unspent

All my days run together, like a charity walk on my calendar
Everyday, I put myself together, and the glue is a promise of no more bummers

I cannot promise you a good ending, but I can promise character development
I cannot promise you I’ve learned a damn thing, but I know time can’t be unspent

Spend some time on me
Spend some time on me
Nothing good is ever a waste of time
He said
Nothing fun is ever a waste of time
He said
Time to spend, time to spare
Track Name: PEMDAS
Right here on this schedule it says another cudgel is to fall upon my weak and battered heart
But like a hammer to a nail, this day will surely fail, to lift my spirits at all
Right here on this calendar it says that I must now endure a few more rounds of only lonely nights
But if a round thing has no corner, no beginning or end, I’ll just get up and turn off my own light

My itinerary tells me that I’ve got many things to distract from the cold collapse of night

The shyness of alarms charmed the pants off waking up interrupting my getting out of bed
But like the last drink of the night, I’ll swallow dying light and my eyes will dull like minds of the undead
I’ve been checking monthly menus of music meals at venues, wishing I’d discover my own name
But if I got my wish I’d be not a person but a dish and my subtle taste would put pop tarts to shame

My itinerary tells me that I’ve got many things to distract from the cold collapse of night

My itinerary tells me that I’ve got many things to distract from the cold collapse of

Nighttime’s better than you’d imagined for planning future trips, beauty pageants
And pagination helps organize days, months, moments of future life
Follow the order of operations, future’s coming please have some patience
Track Name: Apple Baseball (Part Two)
I woke up to an old Danny day, my bones were wet and set to snap
like a vegetable or a sarcastic slow-clap
I woke up to an old Danny day, my brain was frail and set to fail

like a plea for peace or a search for the Holy Grail
I made a time loop out of my phone
Spun a tale for two but ate it alone
Made it on my own
Ate it on my own

I cannot promise you a good ending, but I can promise character development
I cannot promise you you’ll learn anything, but I promise time can’t be unspent

Like a giant awakening from slumber, No more bummers, no more bummers
Like the distant cry of thunder, No more bummers, no more bummers

I cannot promise you a good ending, but I can promise character development
I cannot promise you you’ll learn a damn thing, but I promise time can’t be unspent

Spend some time on me
Spend some time on me
Nothing good is ever a waste of time
He said
Nothing fun is ever a waste of time
He said
Time to spend, time to spare
Track Name: Apple Poem
First and foremost, it’s about having fun

Yeah, you could say it’s about health and safety
Unpicked apples grow heavy with potential
Crash hard like a bomb metaphor in a bad poem about love
Littering the road with potential health risks which
Can only be solved by pulping apples with baseball bats
Causing an even greater health risk in the form of a sticky carpet of appleguts and skin
Which nature sees fit to mitigate with a clear yellow-and-black sign that reads
“Don’t walk on this patch of homemade applesauce if you are allergic to bees
Because you will definitely die here.”

Yeah, you could say this apple is somebody’s head
And then you can grow increasingly frustrated as
Sport imitates life
And you whiff to exhaustion
While your enemy’s soft cranium
Smashes against the ground like so many Babylonian babies
Thanks in absolutely no part to your valiant attack on the air

And if you couldn’t swing-and-miss at apples
You’d pitch yourself chunks of concrete or bottles of shampoo
And if I ran out of paints, I’d smudge the pigment off a Fuji
Or like Superman forging diamonds, I’d pressurize Pink Ladies in my palms
Until they became lumps of pencil lead
Or I’d pull out my canines and carve our names in the side of a tree
Before we hoist ourselves up into the canopy to shake down
More apples than we could ever eat-or-beat into oblivion

Yeah, you could say this is pure nostalgia
A bunch of beta-males reliving their glory-nevers
Remembering that beyond competition
And asshole coaches
And giving up Saturday morning cartoons
There was a fun game and there was joy in being part of a team

Yeah, you could tell the man at bat
That he’s just venting his frustrations
Because you can’t hit kids anymore
Because you don’t get to renegotiate your place in the social hierarchy
Because you don’t get paid enough for this shit or
Because “there’s no gonna in pussy”
But if You want to tell a frustrated man holding a stolen baseball bat
That his life and his problems are banal to the point of transparency
You are both a dick and a huge nutsack
And you are, most assuredly, doing it wrong because

First and foremost, it’s about having fun