DESCRIPTION:
Here you have two tracks from The Fibonaccis, arguably one of music's finest bands. I do NOT own these tracks and have nothing to do with the band at all. If anyone from the band objects to the addition of these songs, let me know and I will take them down. To download these tracks and more (all in much better audio quality), please visit the band's official site, www.fibonaccis.com.

The first track is "Stay Home", a rousing instrumental from their first (and only) studio album, 1987's 'Civilization and Its Discotheques', while the second, "Second Coming", was featured on their debut EP, 1982's "(fi'-bo-na'-chez)".

Lyrics to "Second Coming" (by John Dentino):
Waiting for the message to come
A handshake from deepest space
Pressing to the headset all night
For aliens faintest breath

Hoping for a biped to come
Untangling human doubt
Searching through the static all night
For signals that make some sense

Will they tell whatever the pyramids meant?
Did we evolve or were our chromosomes sent?
Will they find our brainpans a fraction too small?
Do the labyrinths weve created lead nowhere at all?

Here we are in Mississippi
Tracking down a swamp gas saucer
Television cameras glowing
Somewhere in the middle of a prarie on a summer night
The neighbors gather round, hoping for a sight
When the moon casts dark shadows
When the men of conscience weaken
When the preachers spread their panic
Armageddon draws us near its gaping mouth
And whispers that the universe isnt benign

Crashing though a telephone booth
To put in a call to Christ
Looking for a sign in the sky
Ezekiels wheels on high

Waiting for a savior to come to rescue us from the brink
Quoting from the scientists logs
Defending our oldest wish

Will they tell whatever the pyramids meant?
Did we evolve or were our chromosomes sent?
Will they find our brainpans a fraction too small?
Do the labyrinths weve created lead nowhere at all?

Tiny needle in a haystack
All the signals weak and garbled
Conjuring its myths and dreaming
Somewhere in the middle of the galaxy a capsule floats
Boasting the image of man

Waiting for the message to come
A handshake from deepest space
Pressing to the headset all night
For aliens faintest breath

Hoping for a biped to come
Untangling human doubt
Searching through the static all night
For signals that make some sense