Some Assembly Required

by Mark Stepakoff

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    Track listing:
    1. Some Assembly Required
    2. Liquor Don't Lie
    3. Vicarious
    4. Dead Man's Hand
    5. Huevos Rancheros
    6. Worst Kept Secret
    7. Let's Get This Over With
    8. Chevy Biscayne
    9. Little Black Dress
    10. Sleepin' On The Sofa
    11. When Vernon Moved From Tupelo

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1.
My poor old heart’s been broke at least a thousand times or more There still may be some pieces lying somewhere on the floor It falls apart so easily; I guess that’s how it’s wired Some assembly required If you’re into reclamation projects, I’ve got one for you Can you put me back together, make me feel as good as new? Can you resurrect the dreams to which I formerly aspired? Some assembly required Well I’m happy to provide to you some sticky tape and glue Paper clips and rubber bands and every kind of screw Cause the way I’m held together now leaves much to be desired Some assembly required Well I’m happy to provide to you some sticky tape and glue Paper clips and rubber bands and every kind of screw But just how the pieces fit could leave most anyone quagmired Some assembly required Verse 3: And once I’m reassembled, I may take a while to heal So please stay with me my darling while the pieces all congeal Yes if you can start this minute, then you’re definitely hired Some assembly required Some assembly required
2.
It’s quarter past four When you open the door And finally come a-stumblin’ in A real sorry sight Having spent the whole night Mixing Jameson and bathtub gin Now who’s waiting there At the top of the stairs It’s your ever-understanding wife You need a story somehow But it seems that right now You can’t think of one to save your life CHORUS 1: Liquor don’t lie I’m here to tell you all It’s like a great big shot of sodium pentathol Stays on your breath Makes you look like death Puts the color in a bloodshot eye Your alibi Just went awry Liquor don’t lie Whiskey and ale Have spawned many a tale Ever since the world was young And everyone thinks If you have enough drinks That’ll loosen up a nervous tongue Till you’re spinning a yarn That’s as long as your arm But it never seems to quite translate Cause when your vision’s blurred And your speech is slurred It’s hard to keep your story straight CHORUS 2: Liquor don’t lie It don’t even fib It’s like a giant neon sign flashing every foolish thing you did Well you’ve rehearsed your lines ‘Bout a million times But now suddenly your mouth’s gone dry Your story won’t fly I think you know why Liquor don’t lie Repeat Chorus (1st half of Chorus 2, 2nd half of Chorus 1) Reprise: No it ain’t gonna fly I’m telling you why Liquor don’t lie
3.
Vicarious 03:41
Well come sit down beside me, my young friend And tell me all about your wild weekend Did you hit a bunch of parties; did you go out on the town? Did you drink shots of tequila till you closed the last bar down? Tell me every detail; that’s the least that you can do So I can live vicariously through you Well once I was young as you are now I was crazy but I made it through somehow But now I’m more responsible; I’m sure you understand These days the way I get my thrills is strictly second-hand So tell me ‘bout some fine mess that you got yourself into So I can live vicariously through you Did you finally go to dinner with that sweet young thing in billing? Did she wear that skirt that rides above her knee? Did you take her back to your place and was it mutually fulfilling? If it was good for you, then it was good for me Oh tell me how you played her like a vintage Stradivarius Cause these days all my pleasures are vicarious I hear that club downtown is all the rage But everybody there is half my age And it doesn’t even draw a crowd till after 1 a.m. While me I’m always all tucked in and fast asleep by then But you can make me feel like I was there the whole night through When you let me live vicariously through you I understand tonight you’re taking out that little redhead Oh I hope she wears that strapless mini-dress Well I’m sure she’d have no interest in this aging former deadhead But I guess I’ll get to know her pretty well nevertheless Yes it's great that you're so active and your interests are so various Cause these days all my pleasures are vicarious Well do you ever dream about a life With two or maybe three kids and a wife And a house out in the suburbs with a garden and a yard And soccer games and carpools and a lazy St. Bernard Then sit right down my young friend and I’ll brew a pot of tea And you can live vicariously through me
4.
Out in Deadwood, South Dakota a century has passed Since Bill Hickok played the card game that would prove to be his last Never should have sat where he couldn’t see the door As the bullets wracked his body, his cards fell down on the floor Dead man’s hand, dead man’s hand Soon the word spread like wildfire all across the land How the aces and eights had sealed his fate Dead man’s hand, dead man’s hand Now you peak at your cards and you try not to smile Two pair is the best hand you’ve been dealt in quite a while Then you take another look and it hits you with a jolt A little voice is telling you to fold your cards and bolt Dead man’s hand, dead man’s hand Time to ask yourself, are you a superstitious man? With aces and eights, do you tempt fate? Dead man’s hand, dead man’s hand Some fool throws half his stack in but you know he’s holding nothing ‘Cause he taps his fingers on the table every time he’s bluffing Then another fellow calls him and the guy next to you raises You tell yourself you haven’t seen a pot this big in ages Now there’s a knot in your stomach and a lump is in your throat You stayed in with your two pair and lost out to a sevens boat In the sky there’s thunder booming though there’s not a drop of rain Is that Wild Bill reaching out for you and calling out your name? Dead man’s hand, dead man’s hand Leading you away to the valley of the damned With aces and eights, you sealed your fate Dead man’s hand, dead man’s hand Dead man's hand, dead man's hand
5.
Woke up this morning, my head in a fog I drank like a fish last night and ate like a hog Won’t somebody bring me some hair of the dog And a plate full of huevos rancheros I call Jose Cuervo a personal friend Should’ve known that the worm always turns in the end So call up room service and ask ‘em to send A plate full of huevos rancheros Huevos ranchros, por favor For whatever ails you that’s the cure A bottle of aspirin, a pitcher of somberos And a mucho grande plate full of huevos rancheros Serve ‘em over corn tortillas very lightly fried With some rosarita refried beans and salsa on the side Well your stomach will say gracias and your headache will subside With a plate full of huevos rancheros Huevos rancheros, por favor And when we’re finished, order up some more Been doing the trick since the time of the Pharaohs A mucho grande plate full of huevos rancheros We’ll siesta, then fiesta and then Manana I’ll be right back here again Muy bien For some huevos rancheros, por favor Cause there’s another crazy night in store So join me, mis amigos y todos companeros For a mucho grande plate full of huevos rancheros Yes a mucho grande plate full And I will be so grateful A mucho grande plate full of huevos rancheros
6.
On our quiet little block People sure love to talk Innuendo and rumors abound You think I’m unaware Of your little affair But it’s the worst kept secret in town I go out on the street Everybody I meet Seems to mumble and stare at the ground Trying hard not to show That they already know ‘Bout the worst kept secret in town : The chatter’s incessant But so adolescent As swiftly the story is spread There’s truth and there’s gossip I guess it’s a toss-up In terms of which one I most dread With a dodge and a ruse And another excuse You must think that I’m some kind of clown I’ll admit I’m naive But I’ve come to believe The worst kept secret in town If the stress and the strain Of this whispering campaign Leaves me lying in the river, face down When the inquest is through Just attribute it to The worst kept secret in town The worst kept secret in town
7.
Miss, may I buy you a drink? No, this isn’t what you think ‘Cause if I get to know you Someday you will break my heart So let’s cut right to the chase Throw that drink right in my face And put me in my place before the small-talk even starts Let’s get this over with I’m a busy man I already know the script Like the back of my hand You’re gonna make me cry And leave me blue So let’s get this over with I got things to do They say that as a general rule Only the biggest kind of fool Repeats the same mistakes But thinks they’ll turn out differently So I won’t ask you “What’s your sign?” Or try some other corny line Just please don’t shine them baby blues in my vicinity Let’s get this over with I’m a busy man I already know the script Like the back of my hand You’re gonna make me cry We both know that’s true So let’s get this over with I got things to . . . Do the laundry, pay the bills Fix my car, take my pills Buy some groceries, write my will Seems my day’s completely filled So let’s get this over with I’m a busy man I already know the script Like the back of my hand You’re gonna make me cry What else is new? So let’s get this over with I got things to do
8.
Etched deep into memory Is a world that’s no longer there Filled with black and white TV And Tiparillo smoke in the air My dad would get home from work every evening around seven o’clock I’d be standing at the window waiting for him to turn on to our block Then he’d pull up to our house just past the traffic light at Second and Main And he’d give me a wave from the end of the drive In our Chevy Biscayne The bottom of the Chevrolet line The first new car that he ever bought But to him it was as fine As any Cadillac on the lot On Saturdays he’d wake me up at seven and we’d drive into town At the barbershop he’d show me off to everybody hanging around Then he’d take me for a burger at this joint just off the county two-lane And when we got home I’d help him polish the chrome On our Chevy Biscayne But as I started getting older Seems I saw my father less He and mom were always fighting At some point he’d had enough I guess Heard the revving of the engine Very late one winter’s night I looked out my bedroom window Watched those tail-lights fade from sight I didn’t get a letter goodbye I didn’t get a phone call hello I didn’t ask why I’m not sure I even wanted to know Mom took a job on the switchboard at the Viking Hotel Managed to support us both till I was old enough to pitch in as well Still in all that time I never heard her speak about my father again But in her bottom dresser drawer there was a picture I saw Of him in our Chevy Biscayne I guess I can honestly say I don’t think about him much anymore Someone said he passed away From a heart attack in ‘74 I’m married now myself and I’ve got kids ages seven and three On Saturdays I take ‘em into town in our new SUV But ain’t it funny how a memory can keep on rattling ‘round in your brain? And every now and then I feel like I’m behind the wheel Of our Chevy Biscayne
9.
When baby’s going out to a party She always likes to wear something chic And she sips on a coke and Bacardi While the crowd murmurs “tres magnifique” She always gets her share of attention And she’s come to expect it I guess But she takes it to another dimension When baby wears her little black dress It clings to her in all the right places As if it was sprayed on with a can And she loves to steal a glance at the faces Of every wide-eyed and tongue-tied man There’s a palpable sense of desire And an air there of dangerousness Like gasoline poured on a fire When baby wears her little black dress She’s got a little black dress and it’s made of silk Pearls around her neck are as white as milk Spaghetti shoulder straps and a satin bow A pair of Jimmy Choos and she’s good to go Now the party appears to be over And the street’s lined with stretch limousines Ah but she gets into her Toyota And drives back to her family in Queens She’s a wonderful wife and a mother But it’s nice to know nevertheless That she can still turn a whole room aflutter When baby wears her little black dress (3X)
10.
Well my baby’s got eyes of hazel and hair of red She’s got a fiery temper on her that can raise the dead I said something to her and I guess it didn’t come out right Now all I know is that I’m sleepin’ on the sofa tonight I try to figure out what I must have done to anger her so She says if I gotta ask, she's not gonna let me know It’s the same old story, every time we have us a fight I’m banned from the bedroom and I’m sleepin’ on the sofa tonight Well I’m in the doghouse, I’m on the outs The more I apologize, the more she pouts I beg and I plead but she just shouts “Get out of my sight” We got a king-size bed that we bought last fall I guess I’ll be lucky if I get to see it at all Cause I’m down the hall, sleepin’ on the sofa tonight It’s missing an armrest and it reeks of formaldehyde It’s stiff as a board and my legs hang over the side It wasn’t built to be slept on by somebody of my weight and height But here I am again, sleepin’ on the sofa tonight Well I’m in the doghouse, I’m on the outs The more I apologize, the more she pouts I beg and I plead but she just shouts “Get out of my sight” I bring home a little something from the jewelry store But she says it’s gonna cost me a whole lot more I guess that’s for sure, cause I’m sleepin’ on the sofa tonight Well I’m in the doghouse, I’m on the outs The more I apologize, the more she pouts I beg and I plead but she just shouts “Get out of my sight” Well I’ll buy her flowers and I’ll draw her a bath Do anything I can just to escape her wrath If in the aftermath I won’t be sleepin’ on the sofa tonight Well I’ll serve her dinner on a silver tray I'll bring it to the bedroom if she’ll only say That she’ll let me stay instead of sleepin’ on the sofa Cause there ain’t no way I should be sleepin’ on the sofa I just hope and pray I won’t be sleepin’ on the sofa tonight
11.
The war was finally over and the boys were all back home Truman was elected to a full term of his own And the country was returning to a sense of normalcy When Vernon moved from Tupelo to Memphis, Tennessee Well he had lived in Tupelo since he was seventeen But the times he’d held a steady job were few and far between And folks knew about his stint down in the penitentiary So Vernon moved from Tupelo to Memphis, Tennessee He packed up his wife and his sole surviving son Still wondering why the good Lord had to take the other one A dozen years had come and gone but not the memory When Vernon moved from Tupelo to Memphis, Tennessee Well on the streets of Memphis everybody knew the rules There were white and colored churches; there were white and colored schools And that was never gonna change as far as anyone could see When Vernon moved from Tupelo to Memphis, Tennessee But meanwhile down on Beale Street something new was in the air The blues would ring out day and night, and all were welcome there And the radio was playing all the latest R&B When Vernon moved from Tupelo to Memphis, Tennessee Just another good old boy moving out of state Just a hundred mile drive up Route 78 Whoever would’ve guessed he’d be making history When Vernon moved from Tupelo to Memphis, Tennessee (3X)

about

Like John Prine meets Steve Earle with Warrren Zevon lending a hand" -- Altcountry Forum

Boston singer-songwriter's third LP features 11 original songs and backing by some of the area's finest musicians, including Duke Levine, Sean Staples and Joyce Andersen. Highlights include the raucous "Liquor Don't Lie"; "Chevy Biscayne", a moving look back at a broken father-son relationship; "and "When Vernon Moved From Tupelo", Mark's award-winning song about Elvis Presley's father.

credits

released August 25, 2009

Mark Stepakoff - Vocals, guitar
Duke Levine - Guitar
Paul Kochanski - Bass
Lorne Entress - Drums
Joyce Andersen - Fiddle, vocals
Sean Staples - Mandolin, vocals
Tom Eaton - Organ, accordion
Justin Quinn - Harmonica

Special appearance on Huevos Rancheros by Bigfoot Research Organization

Produced by Tom Eaton and Mark Stepakoff
Recorded and mixed by Tom Eaton at Thomas Eaton Recording, Newburyport MA
Mastered by Jonathan Wyman, M Works, Cambridge MA

All songs written by Mark Stepakoff, ©2009 BMI

Cover photo/design by Amy Lithimane, A.M.Y. Studios

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Mark Stepakoff Boston, Massachusetts

"One of the best songwriters I have ever heard" - Christine Lavin

Singer-songwriter Mark Stepakoff has been widely admired on the Boston folk and roots music scene for more than 20 years. His songs comprise a mix of humorous and poignant material in a style reminiscent of artists like John Prine or more contemporary songwriters such as Hayes Carll, and have drawn raves locally and nationally. ... more

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