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lyrics

Well, you pass me by everyday/you look right past my face/so familiar, I’m commonplace/soon forgotten/soon replaced. I’m your table/I’m that chair/I’m those fancy shoes you used to wear/I’m the Maytag, the old Frigidaire/deemed obsolete now, beyond repair. And all things pass away/tomorrow’s things replace todays/and even you will not escape/the place for all things yesterday. Well I disappear/then I shine like the chrome/on that old Bellaire/your grand-dad used to own/on the retail rack, when you couldn’t ignore/in the back of your closet/you don’t wear me no more. And when my new smell has all worn off/I’ll be hidden away in a room of moth-balls/boxed and labeled, second-hand store/where one man’s junk is another one’s gold. Hey…all things pass away/tomorrow’s things replace todays/and even you will not escape/the place for all things/yesterday. And now I’m all weathered and worn/my colors are faded/my upholstery torn/on my way where old things go/buried In a landfill for all things gone. And the clock ticks faster for all things made/it’s first then it’s last, then it’s thrown away/present then past/and it will be/the next new thing fated for obscurity. Hey…all things pass away/tomorrow’s things replace todays/and even you will not escape/the place for all things/yesterday.

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Forrest Whitlow Kansas City, Missouri

“David Lynch meets Neil Young” says KJHK disc jockey Barry Lee, describing Forrest Whitlow’s music. “Forrest writes and sings from the heart and it comes through in his performances.” This mix of familiar and eclectic musical elements informs and drives the music of Forrest Whitlow. ... more

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