Retro Rocket Science

by Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff

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released March 5, 2000

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Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff San Jose, California

Jeff and Maya have an identity crisis. Their music is sometimes uproariously funny parody (like their spot-on "Bohemian Rhapsody" parody "Midichlorian Rhapsody", or hauntingly beautiful, like "Road to Jerusalem" or "Manhattan Sleeps". One way or another, their music will create strong emotions. Jeff and Maya have been creating music together since 1979, and plan to continue for some time to come. ... more

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Track Name: Hotel Dealer Floor
©1997 Jeff Bohnhoff

Down a dark hotel hallway
Cooled breeze in my hair
Warm smell of espresso
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a shimmering light
My purse grew heavy and my will grew dim
I had to shop there tonight

There she stood at the table
I heard a cloister bell
And I was thinking to myself
Could be Blake 7 or space opera hell
Then she held up a Bat’leth
From a Star Trek display
There were voices from the booth next door
I thought I heard them say

“Welcome to the hotel dealer floor”
“Such a lovely place, buy a warrior’s mace”
“There’s plenty of stuff on the hotel dealer floor”
“Any fannish gear, you can buy it here....”

Her mind is Bradbury twisted
She’s one of Mercedes’ friends
She’s got a lot of pretty pretty goths
She calls fen
How they filk in the ballroom
All night bardic sets
Some lines they remember
Some lines they forget

I saw a gold shirted captain
At the end of the line
He said “We haven’t had that Star Trek here since 1969”
And still those Cds are playing from far away
Stop you dead in the middle of the aisle
Just to hear them say

“Welcome to the hotel dealer floor”
“Such a lovely place to buy a latex face”
They’re givin’ it up on the hotel dealer floor”
I let down my guard, brought my credit card.

Magic cards on the table
Laid out to entice
She said “Old tapes of the Prisoner here, can be had for a price”.
And in the con ops chamber they gather for their feast
Cold nachos and a keg of beer
Old Dr Who repeats
Last thing I remember, I was running for the door
Had to get my credit balance back
To the place it was before
“Relax” said the gopher
But I was not deceived
Bring your checkbook to the dealer floor
And it can never leave....
Track Name: Every Single Song She Sings Is Tragic
©1999 Jeff Bohnhoff

Though I’ve tried before to tell her
Of my desire to make music in two parts
Every time that I come hear her
She sings all of Matty Grove
Right from the start

Every single song she sings is tragic
All she wants to do is ose that’s long
Even though I’d like to make some magic
Now I know her verse goes on and on.

Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand bardic filks since we first met?
It’s a big enough filk circle
But it always me that has to follow songs of death.

Every single song she sings is tragic
All she wants to do is ose that’s long
Even though I’d like to make some magic
Now I know her verse goes on and on.

I resolve to cheer her up a thousand times a day
And ask her if she’ll sing with me some happy songs by Hayes
But my fear of black lace grips me
And turns my heart to stone
And her leather thigh boots trip me
Must I always sing alone?

Every single song she sings is tragic
All she wants to do is ose that’s long
Even though I’d like to make some magic
Now I know her verse goes on and on.

Every little thing she does is tragic tragic tragic
Tragic tragic tragic.

E-ose, E-ose......
Track Name: The Actor
© 1999 Jeff Bohnhoff

I am just an actor and my story's often told.
I've been written up in fanzines
For a pocket full of PR, shameless articles.
White lies at best -
Still a fan hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.

When the show was cancelled I was no more than a boy.
In the company of strangers.
In the quiet of convention green rooms, paying bills.
Laying low.
Seeking out the fannish quarters where the costumed people go.
Looking into faces mothers wouldn't know.

And the red shirts die.
Lie la lie lie lie la lie.

Asking only extra's wages I go looking for a role.
But I get no offers.
I've been typecast by the whores on Wilshire Blvd.
I do declare, there were times when I was so desperate
I did commercials there.

Five curtain calls -
Once I had a real career.
Five curtain calls -
Now all I do is cut the tape at new shopping malls.

So I'm trying to reach my agent,
But I always find him gone -
He's never home
Just another ten-percenter always bleeding me
Misleading me from my home.

In the dry ice stands an actor and a player by his trade.
And he carries the reminders
Of every script that laid him low and cut him -
Til he cried out, in his anger and his shame
By Grabthar's Hammer I am leaving!
But the Actor still remains.

Will Guy die?
Lie la lie lie lie la lie.
Will Guy die?
Lie la lie lie lie la lie.

Well the red shirts die!
Track Name: Hangin' Out At Cheers
©1999 Jeff Bohnhoff

Sitting on a bar stool, ambition fading fast.
So you grab a bunch of pretzels and try to make them last.
Hiding out from Vera, your ever-patient wife.
Sometimes a warm stool at the bar is better than a life.

Are you hangin' out at Cheers?
Wastin' a lot of time.
Are you soakin' up the beers?
Did you just drink one of mine?

You've been telling us you're a genius since you've been coming here.
A civil servant savant who loves his mom and beer.
Someday you'll find a woman who will treat you like a man.
She'll get the arcane knowledge we don't understand.

Are you hangin' out at Cheers?
Wastin' a lot of time.
Are you soakin' up the beers?
Did you just drink one of mine?

Well we've watched a lot of TV and we've spent a lot of time.
That trip we made to Hollywood is etched upon my mind.
I recall that night on Jeopardy when you went down in flames.
Claven king of trivia - now everybody knows your name.

Are you hangin' out at Cheers?
Wastin' a lot of time.
Are you soakin' up the beers?
Did you just drink one of mine?
Track Name: Mock The Turkey
© 1999 Jeff Bohnhoff

Hovering in deep space.
With metal friends in this metal place.
Someone conked me on the bean -
Now I watch these scenes.
Horrors of the silver screen.

Tom is Tom.
You can crow about Crow.
You can ape the ape.
Bobo's too dumb to know.
There's one thing you can be sure of,
On the Satellite of Love -
Forrester's getting jerky with the turkeys.

Oh turkey, turkey, turkey -
Don't you know we're going to mock the turkey?

Reels keep turning -
Stomach's churning -
Don't like it feel my lunch returning.

Mock! Watch the turkey get burnt.

Werewolves in the streets.
Mummies, wrapped in sheets.
That woman Pearl can be a swine,
Trying to bend our minds.
Rescue me Gypsy please.

Oh turkey, turkey, turkey -
Don't you know we're going to mock the turkey?

Got a robot date.
Gonna watch the hands of fate.
Oh my God, Ed Wood is waking!

Oh turkey, turkey, turkey -
Don't you know we're going to mock the turkey?
Track Name: Pharaohs Of Filk
© 1998 Jeff Bohnhoff

You get a shiver in the hall
You've left the costume ball, but in the meantime -
South of the ballroom you stop and you hold everything.
A band is playing filkish in straight four time.
You feel all right when you hear that sound.

You step inside but you don't see too many faces,
Comin’ in out of the hall to hear the filk go down.
Competition from other spaces,
But the harps really make that sound.
Late at night, late at night in the circle.

You check out Dr. Jane, she does dino songs.
Mind you she's strictly science, she doesn't do the media thing.
And one lone guitar is all she brings along
When she gets up on stage to play and sing.

The Duras Sisters really liven up the filk.
Playing Start Trek songs and Babylon 5.
They can sing three part smooth as silk.
Raving it up on Friday night.
With the Pharaohs, with the Pharaohs of Filk.

There's a crowd of young Goths foolin' around in the corner.
Drunk and dressed in their best black raggies and fishnet hose.
They don't give a damn about any filk-playing band.
It don't suit their cyber-pose.
And the Pharaohs, the Pharaohs played ose (and more ose).

And the hotel man steps right into the ballroom.
"At last!" he says "it's 4 AM."
"Thanks! Goodnight, now it's time to go home."
But we make it fast with one more filk.
We are the Pharaohs, the Pharaohs of filk!
Track Name: Every Breath
© 1998 Maya and Jeff Bohnhoff

Every breath you take -
Every deal you make -
Every law you break -
Every bribe you take -
I’ll be watching you.

Every drink you mix -
Every game you fix -
Every scheme you pick
From your bag of tricks -
I’ll be watching you.

Oh can’t you see
I’m that fichus tree.
Am I in my pail?
Or that glass of ale?

Every load of freight -
Each suspicious crate -
You may think I’m late
But you’ll be tempting fate -
‘cause I’m watching you.

Selling dreams in your run-down Holo Suites
While Dabo girls rest their tired aching feet.
As sure a Morn is sitting in his seat,
I’ll be watching the next time that you cheat.
You’ll be crying “Odo! Odo! please!”
Track Name: Knight's In White Satin
© 1995 Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff

The knight’s in white satin,
Lace teddy and pearls.
He was guarding the Princess,
Became one of the girls.

Silk things she’s always hid,
From his eyes before.
They now know the truth is,
They both wear size four.

If the King knew!

Gazing through peepholes,
At gowns of all brands.
Just what he’s going through,
They won’t understand.

The maidens are wearing
Outfits they cannot defend.
Ensembles he’d like to wear
Will be his own end.

If the King knew!

The knight’s in white satin,
Lace teddy and pearls -
When the King comes to bid goodnight
To his sweet baby girl.

The poor knight’s imagining
His neck in a noose.
But the King’s wearing nylons
And black spike heeled shoes.

If the Queen knew!
Track Name: Eldorado
©1999 Jeff Bohnhoff

Eldorado, with your seats like hard benches
You’ve been emitting black stenches
For so long now.
And it’s a hard ride, on your tires for all seasons.
An old Caddy squeezin’ out a few extra miles.

Don’t you try to burn unleaded boy
It’ll overheat you if it’s able
You know that premium is always your best bet
Now it seems I’ve heard some loud pings
Coming from your big block V8
As you’re passed on by some little red Chevette.

Eldorado, you ain’t getting’ no younger
Your paint and your muffler
Are rusting away.
And a clear coat, oh a clear coat
Well that’s just some people talkin’
Your hell is shocks that bounce you home all the way.

Do your feet get cold when it’s smog check time?
Your spark won’t glow and your pistons whine
And your vinyl just keeps cracking day by day.
Your transmission’s lost its highs and lows
Ain’t it funny how the fluid flows away?

Eldorado, with your time worn suspension
And Corinthian leather
Oh what a fate.
It may be raining
But there’s a ragtop above you
You’d better let some tow truck shove you
Let some tow truck shove you
You’d better let some tow truck shove you
Before it’s too late.
Track Name: Closer To The Plot
© 1998 Jeff Bohnhoff

And the men who write the screenplays
Must give some careful thought.
When adapting from the novel -
Stay closer to the plot.

The director and matte artist
Make it something that it’s not.
Please don’t make another Dune
Stay closer to the plot.

The extras and the big stars
Must say to Ridley Scott -
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
Is closer to the plot.

You can be producer
But I will call the shots.
So what ends up at the cineplex
Is closer to the plot.
Track Name: Another Job At The Mall
© 1998 Jeff Bohnhoff

We don't need no paid vacation.
We don't need no HMO.
No time off for lunch or coffee.
Hey! HR! Leave them temps alone!

All in all it beats another job at the mall.
All in all it beats another job at the mall.

We don't need no corner office.
We can stand these cubicles.
With no space for our family portraits.
Hey! HR! Leave them temps alone!

All in all it beats another job at the mall.
All in all it beats another job at the mall.

All in all it beats another job at the mall.
All in all it beats another job at the mall.

(spoken) Hey, would you like fries with that?
Track Name: Won't Get Fooled
© 1995 Jeff & Maya Bohnhoff

We’ll be fighting in the aisles
For the format of our files.
And the OS we were using will be gone.
While the man who spurred us on
Delays our upgrades for so long.
He decides and our systems sing the song.

Press any key for the MS solution.
Click my mouse for the new revolution.
Smile and grin at the changes all around.
Will I have enough RAM today,
To boot up Plug & Play?
Better get on my knees and pray -
We don’t get fooled again.

The new OS came today -
It promised us a better way.
We were liberated from 640k.
But my resources are drained.
And my disk access is lame.
They used the banners from the last market campaign.

Press any key for the MS solution.
Click my mouse for the new revolution.
Smile and grin at the changes all around.
Will I have enough RAM today,
To boot up Plug & Play?
Better get on my knees and pray -
We don’t get fooled again.

I move my cards and my data aside
If they happen to be left half alive.
I load all my drivers and I pray to the sky,
Because I know the monopolized never die.

There’s nothing on the screen
Looks any different to me.
All the icons are erased by and by.
And the close box on the left,
Is now the close box on the right.
And the page fault errors still rule the night.

Press any key for the MS solution.
Click my mouse for the new revolution.
Smile and grin at the changes all around.
Will I have enough RAM today,
To boot up Plug & Play?
Better get on my knees and pray -
We don’t get fooled again.

Meet the new DOS.
Same as the old DOS....