Story Behind The Song

This song uses quotes from a woman named Sylvia who happens to suffer from schizophrenia. I read her words in a Psyche text book in college. I was taken back by the simple beauty and profound wisdom her words beheld. So I wrote this song.

Song Description

The musical bed in this tune is somewhat schizophrenic. Each verse looks at schizophrenia from a different perspective. The music in each verse tries to illustrate and enhance each unique persepective. From mysteriously dark to hopeless to funky to disco to hopeless again and then funks once again. Many genres are touched upon in this monster of a song. Listen - you will like!

Lyrics

ROOTWATOR
(Really Out Of Touch With A Touch Of Reality)
©2004 Ray Kainz

Sylvia, just, isn't herself, anymore
"I'm pregnant with the child of christ" I hear her scream
Insane mind? Untamed? Blind? Genetic or a dream?
How can we see the souls of those who have been set free
Like this religious, mischief mistress with a paranoid creed
a scatterbrain soliloquy

"I am Florence Nightingale"
I hear her screaming
"Divorce isn't a piece of paper, it's a feeling"
"Archie Bunker wants me to play his niece on T.V."
"Mick Jagger is St. Nicholas. Santa Clause the Maharishi"
"The body runs on electricity and my wiring is all faulty"

She's really out of touch with a touch of reality
She's really out of touch with a touch of reality
really really out of touch really
She's really out of touch

"Ted Kennedy cured my ugliness"
"Mick Jagger wants to marry me"

And so you've heard her spoken word
on streets form coast to coast
When shouted in my own backyard
it's my ears immune the most

Mr. Government's trying to cover rent
with money he all ready spent
So Sylvia my girl take off your pearls
There will be no empathic roast

cuz they're really out of touch with a touch of reality
cuz they're really out of touch with a touch of reality
really really out of touch really
cuz theyr'e really out of touch

"a fly, is a teenaged, wasp"

Street-corner stage is what she craves
that's what they say anyway
we close the doors to pay for wars
what ever happened to the USA?
Mrs. Motherland hold her hand
and soothe her sour dreams
this orphaned child whose soul runs wild
maimed by you and me.

She's claimed by suffering
Defamed by a psyche sling

we're really out of touch with a touch of reality
we're really out of touch with a touch of reality
really really out of touch really
we're really out of touch