The Hard Taco Project
is a Simple Concept

I will write and record one song a month,
every month, until I am dead



I have been doing this since
1993 and so far my health is good.

Hard Taco Radio

The Sewing Circle Kills Again

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From "Down the Wrong Pipe"

I am a child
Dressed as a mirror ball
Hung in a darkroom
I stare
At screens (on the concourse)
That take x-rays of handbags
I see
The sinister hearts within
My throwaway girlfriends
As they roll
Roll through the scanner

I didn't know
My chewing gum was a bomb
My glasses shot x-rays
A pure oblivious master spy
Encoded at birth
And my life,
An unknowing series of
Reconnaissance missions
For the shared
Female agenda

So, the sewing circle kills again
Oh, another victim quilted in
So generous
So damn congenial now
So generous
So damn congenial now

You left a bike
Chained to a stop sign in
This town that you moved from
I sit
And commiserate with it
In fettered rejection
For we
Can never be saved and we
Can never be stolen
Oh, never be stolen

So, the sewing circle kills again
Oh, another victim quilted in
So generous
So damn congenial now
So generous
So damn congenial now

Watch yourself
Brace yourself
Push yourself
But pace yourself
If you faced yourself
Youd shoot yourself
Fine
Suit yourself
We 're all sleeping in the crosshairs anyway
You can't afford what Betsy Ross wears anyway
We 're all sleeping in the crosshairs anyway
You can't afford this

The sewing circle kills again
The sewing circle kills again
So generous
So damn congenial now
The sewing circle kills again
So generous
So damn congenial now
The sewing circle kills again


(Lauren London - vocals)

Copyright 2005 Zach London

The Seventh Sea

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From "The Seventh Sea"


Fish tales and shanties
Fill the ashtrays of the few.
The old man babbles on,
The seaside tavern's gone but still
The barstools stand as tombstones
For the sailors he once knew.
He looks out to the bay
And sadly wishes they could see him too.

The anchor in the sky has danger to outweigh
'Cause old captains never die, they only fade away
Away the moments slip,
So go down with your ship and you'll be free,

To sail the Seventh Sea
It's he notion of an endless ocean odyssey
Where a mariner can share in errant honesty
To possess Poseidon's dynasty once more

The flag of triumph
Dangles limp upon his mast
Soil cakes the boots
That used to draw salutes,
Because he swims against the current
When he dances with the past.
He turns to Babylon
And stands and cries
I'll kneel upon your shores no more.

Though glory dreams create, his vision time enslaves.
He leaps to kiss the face of fate and plunges through the waves
Your Messianic sleep
A thousand miles deep will triumph be,

Within the Seventh Sea
It's he notion of an endless ocean odyssey
Where a mariner can share in errant honesty
To possess Poseidon's dynasty once more


(Maury Loeb - co-author
Josh Siegel - piano, backup vocals)

Copyright 1994 Zach London

The Running of the Trolls in Pamplona

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Instrumental

(Tom Kirchoffer - drums
Josh Siegel - bass)

Copright 1995 Zach London

The Quincy Steam Hoist

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From "Approach Approach Conflict"

They say if you blink
You'll miss
The Quincy Mine
The heart of a ghost town west of Dollar Bay
Whenever I think
Of this
Abandoned shrine
I dream of the fortunes left to haul away

They tell me that Old Reliable's done
That none of her stopes are up to code
And all of her veins are now with the groundwater drenched
But we, as miners of old
Will plunder the deep Pewabic lode
And the Quincy Hoist shall run
The Quincy Steam Hoist shall run again

Remember they laughed
They all
Said, "who are you
To tell us the Quince has blood worth drilling for"
But remember the shaft
They call
The number 2
Is deeper than Hell
And burns with copper ore

They tell me that Old Reliable's done
That none of her stopes are up to code
And all of her veins are now with the groundwater drenched
But we, as miners of old
Will plunder the deep Pewabic lode
And the Quincy Hoist shall run
The Quincy Hoist shall run and run

Reliable's done
And none of her stopes are up to code
And all of her veins are now with the groundwater drenched
But we, as miners of old
Will plunder the sweet Pewabic lode
And the Quincy Hoist shall run
The Quincy Hoist shall run
The Quincy Hoist shall run
The Quincy Nordberg Steam Hoist shall run again


(Rebecca Biber - flute
Greg Kutcher - electric guitar
Lauren London - backup vocals
Russell Schwartz - backup vocals
Darin Zahuranec - trumpet and french horn)
Copyright 2009 Zach London

Discography