Sketchbook Songs

by Daniel Luke



These songs aren't polished, or recorded well. But they're mine and I want to share them. Think of them as a rough sketch of song. All the main bits are there, it just needs some cleanup.


released June 10, 2012



all rights reserved


Daniel Luke Halifax, Nova Scotia

Australian Animator living in Canada and terrifying the locals with ukulele fuelled spontaneous sing-alongs.

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Track Name: Animation
It's a Friday night,
Glow of the Cintiq Light.
Got a job to do and I'm gonna do it right.

Slam the headphones on,
Pick a pumpin' power song.
Tweet out to all the peeps who'll work along.

'Cause we're boardin' up and keying out tonight!
It's all layed out, the edit's looking tight.

We're making animation!
Work hard and working late.
These boards are looking great!

Getting through my quota,
Need that caffeine hit.
Rough down, clean up, scrub through, ctrl-s, force quit.

Fast approaching daylight,
Left midnight in our wake,
Churning through revisions, add another take.

Any other job we'd've given up hours ago.
Burn the candle at both ends for a kick arse show.

We're making animation!
One day we'll work enough
Get to do our own stuff.


Last bit of the night.
Saturday is shining bright.
Should probably go outside but I've earned a sleep, alright!?

Slowly whirring sound,
as computer powers down.
Drag myself to bed, pass out on a cloud.

Nocturnal is the life we lead by choice.
Our battle cry rings out with raising voice!

We work in animation!
We work because we love,
can't ever get enough!

Script, boards, layout, design.
On two's'll be fine.
Track Name: This Morning, Last Night
Four-thirty Friday, it's been a long week.
Gonna get drunk, get something to eat.
Beer in my left hand, rye in my right. I think this'll be a good night.

It's morning, where am I? What time, what is place?
Ground's far below me, there's a squirrel in my face.
Try to get down but there's something holding me.
Seems I've belted myself to a tree.

Saturday arvo, feeling kinda gross.
Need coffee and bacon and a clean change of clothes.
Should get some rest, should really go home,
But should's a funny word you know.

It's morning, where am I? What time what is place?
Can't move my seat back, my legs have no space.
Things seem unfamiliar as my brain becomes unstuck,
I've woken in a strangers pickup truck.

If I go out Sunday night, I might end up in a fight.
Be found sleeping in the park, in the snow and in the dark,
A lot worse could happen to me than being belted to a tree...

Fuckit! I'm going out again!

Na na na na na...