Ghosts Be Free is available now for download here! and hardcopy here! and on Itunes. Yes Ghosts Be Free is my 14 song debut record released by Split Vision Records (2012). Recorded at the legendary Hyde Street Studio C and co-produced by Scott McDowell, the record features behind me a stellar cast of California musicians: Zach Gill (keys), Todd Sickafoose (upright bass), Aaron Kierbel (drums), Courtney Browne (vocals, cello), Lebo (pedal steeel, electric guitar), Dave Mihaly (percussion), Ara Anderson (trumpet), Steve Adams (electric bass) Andrew Macguire (congas) and Joe Cohen (sax). Learn more about the album’s successful Kickstarter campaign.
Click here to Listen / Purchase Orange Blossom Blinds (EP)
Orange Blossom Blinds is my first 4 song EP/demo recorded by Adam Kirk in 2010. Other musicians included Lathan Spaulding (keys) and Adam Kirk (drums).
SPACE

Lyrics from Ghosts Be Free

by Professor Burns

Orange Blossom Blinds
Don’t you try boy, you’ll get twisted / Don’t you ask when you already know /
Cause the light comes slowly in New Orleans through orange blossom blinds /
And the way they grow them trees in the Bayou can tangle up the mind /
So don’t you hide boy, your eyes betray you /And don’t you shy, when you know your part / Cause when strangers hold your hand down on Frenchman in the love of nights return / You can bet there’s a line of heron flying west with a sprig of juniper /
And when green circled leaves on white sheets are the table for your feast / You can taste gifted wine from the bottle to my lips past your knees / Oh were drunk, in a lilac field
Can’t make out what’s dream and what’s real / in that crack, yeah that shift / the twilight, the slip / That’s exactly where I want to be / Me holding you and you holding me

Little John
Little John cried out in the morning / Snow wet from the spring time sun
Mothers gone, her train came early / Never held her newborn son.
Some child is born of silver / Some child is born of mud
No hand from death deliver / No tale not told in blood.

Donata Polo
Staring out my window passed the waves / Haven’t seen a ship pass for days
Tears stain the wood on my veranda / Tracing time since Marco sailed for China
I’m alone in this tower / I call his desperate name on the hour / I sing Marco, Polo, Your circumnavigation leaves me solo / Staring out my window passed the waves / Haven’t seen a ship cross for days / Soothsayers and matrons at my door / My appetite for pretense no more / I’m alone in this tower / I call his desperate name on the hour
I sing Marco, Polo / Your circumnavigation leaves me solo

Birds
I talk to birds, they claim I’m the lucky one / They say you fixate on flying but we just yearn and envy for the way you run / Well if birds they dream to run, I’m bird in a tree dreaming under the sun / Cause when I think of you, all the crazy beautiful things you do
I get scared, I get scared and so I run / I walk at night, it’s the only time I can hear myself
Digging out ideas from an orchestra of visions that are someone’s else
All our thoughts aren’t are own, we’re just living in an edit room of teleprompts and phones / And the space behind our eyes is trophy case for Madison Ave designs
So if you don’t check your head, You better run, run / I’ll dream your mind, you can just float off and go blank for some time / I’ll blur the line, between the sapphire goblet and the cellar wine / Stories old, they dry like dirt, you better irrigate if you want earth.
When the past has got your hands, you’re a pushover mannequin in a window’s quick sand / So if you dream before you sleep, you better run run.