New Direction


 
I used to dwell on all the complications… but now they just don’t stop me any more. Waistin’ my time… with a noodle for a spine and i just couldn’t take it any more.

So i went to think about a new direction… and in the course of my searchin’ i did find… that the writing on the wall was a mess of a scrawl and i just couldn’t stand it any more.

Lord it’s true i’ll have to claw my way out!

Well… i made it… i found my new direction… feelin’ better… much better every day. Not afraid to take a stand… i ain’t worried about no plans cos the end’s gonna reconcile itself… oh YEA YEA YEA…

When i close my eyes i see a better world… and it don’t seem so far to reach…. no no no no… from the bottom of the pit it’s a long way to climb… and the key to the top is in my hands… in my hands…

In MY OWN bloody hands!

Spotify link… HERE

Neon


 
Crisp… winter morning coffee warm in my cup when i first read the letter from my best friend’s hand today.

It’s a holiday card… with a message to you and me… sit down honey… your mommy’s comin’ home.

She said… “I need you to need me… i want you to want me. I pray that you’ll learn to count on me. And i’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight. I’m comin’ home… it’s you that saved my life.”

Well… i know she’s made mistakes… but she left you for me to raise… i’ll always think of you as my own child deep down inside. And now she’s comin’ home… gonna dance with the methadone… i’d always hoped this day would finally come.

She said… “I need you to need me… i want you to want me. I pray that you’ll learn to count on me. And i’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight. I’m comin’ home… it’s you that saved my life.”

Nobody lives in a vacuum… even the island needs a sea. Everyone needs raison d’etre… and for her… it’s down to you and me.

Well… the snow is falling down on the busy sidewalks of our town… your mom won’t go out there… tonight or evermore. So let’s turn that frown around… what was lost once now is found. .. your mom… my best friend’s comin’ home.

She said… “I need you to need me… i want you to want me. I pray that you’ll learn to count on me. And i’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight. I’m comin’ home… it’s you that saved my life.

I’ll cast my bones on neon for the last time tonight…”

Spotify link… HERE

Voter’s Poll

LYRIC (political parody to the melody of Shel Silverstein’s “Freakin’ at the Freaker’s Ball“):

Well… we’re goin’ to a voters’ poll… today… it’s your civic toll. And you know… we’ll be counted… on the roll.

C’mon babies… scream and shout… we got the revolutionary clout… we’re gonna throw the bastards out… we’re goin’ to the voters’ poll.

Blow your whistle… bang a gong… take a breath… and sing along… it feels so good… it can’t be wrong… votin’ at the voters’ poll

All the heads and the reds… are standin’ in together… the scooter trash dressed in all kinds of leather… the greatest of the queens and the bible-thumpers too… screamin’ please bless me… and I’ll bless you.

Grungarati… adrenaline junkies… all the straights… are swingin’ with the funkies. Cross the floor… up the wall… votin’ at the voters’ poll… yo… votin’ at the voters’ poll!

Everybody’s bumpin’ each other… patriarchs and single mothers… smear my biscuits up with butter
And take me to the voters’ poll.

Pass that ballot … ring the chimes… you boot yours … i’ll boot mine… i’m gonna straighten up my spine… votin’ at the voters’ poll.

White ones… black ones… Jose and Yang ones. Green and blue and native red ones… the greatest of the dykes and the bible-thumpers too… screamin’ please bless me… and I’ll bless you!

Everybody’s holdin’ their opinions… flooding polling stations by the millions…we’re gonna clear the air that’s stinkin’… votin’ at the voters’ poll… yo… votin’ at the voters’ poll… na na na naaaa… votin’ at the voters’ poll!

The Quick and the Dead

Baby Kyle was a sheepdog… age 17…
He sniffed out a dog-fight scene…
Vigilante ascent… loaded rifle he went…
To protect private property

He loped into town… and spoke with renown…
To the press who had gathered there…
For the lambs getting hurt… put the ferals on alert…
Said his duty was to guard the square

He’d seen on the video… dog-fight scenes
Played out crystal clear in his head…
The lesson that he takes… two pit-fighters make…
The quick… and the stone cold dead

He joined in the fray… on a fateful summer day…
In the din of the riot sound…
When the heat of the chaos cleared away
Two bodies… they had hit the ground

A babyface pup… in over his head…
Faced the fury of an angry tide…
He learned his lesson well… lived to tell the bloody tale
Now… justice will have to decide

He’ll stand before the judge… and the jury twelve…
Twelve more for the caskets pall
A ton of broken dreams… now a ward of the farm…
Nevermore… to play sheepdog

On the western shore… others do abhor…
The state of a farm divide…
Anti-fascists on the left… vigilantes on the right
No more will the shepherd abide

There’s a feeling i get… starting out a road trip…
The kind where i can barely breathe
I love my hometown and i really get around…
But today… i just can’t wait…

Charlie Sheen

 

Come you vegetarians in Dr.’s leather shoes… work the ethic of the red… while you’re voting the blue… you deny that there’s a god then say your daily prayers… watch your food and steps then go on weekly benders.

A prisoner of circumstance… locked in a cage of woe… a walking contradiction with nowhere else to go.

Come you defenders of life… support your nation’s wars… talk about sacrifice but won’t pay taxes anymore… saints… saints… in a world drenched in sin… don’t you know sometimes redemption requires discipline?

Prisoner of circumstance… locked in a cage of woe… walking contradiction with nowhere else to go… prisoners of circumstance… and they could truly free…  walking contradictions… 

…just like you and me…
…like you and me…
…like you and me & Charlie Sheen.

Spotify link… HERE

Pulp and Ink

In the days of two ought and one…
– Pulp & Ink!
In the days of two ought and one…
– Pulp & Ink!
In the days of two ought and one…
…writin’ news is all i done
Hand me down my pulp… my pulp…
…my pulp & ink

In the days of two ought and two…
– Pulp & Ink!
In the days of two ought and two…
– Pulp & Ink!
In the days of two ought and two…
… writin’ news is all i do
Hand me down my pulp… my pulp…
…my pulp & ink

In the days of two ought and three…
– Pulp & Ink!
In the days of two ought and three…
– Pulp & Ink!
In the days of two ought and three…
…writin’s all i cared to be
Hand me down my pulp… my pulp…
…my pulp & ink

In the days of two ought and four…
– Pulp & Ink!
In the days of two ought and four…
– Pulp & Ink!
Since the days of two ought and four…
…don’t write news any more
Throw away my pulp… my pulp…
…my pulp & ink

They invented internet…
– Pulp & Ink!
They invented internet…
– Pulp & Ink!
They invented internet…
…now ANYONE can hypertext
Throw away my pulp… my pulp…
…my pulp & ink

Reach a hundred folks to my one…
– Pulp & Ink!
Reach a thousand folks to my one…
– Pulp & Ink!
Reach ten thousand folks to my one…
…writin’ news it ain’t no fun
Throw away my pulp… my pulp…
…my pulp & ink

Come Ink-Stained Wretch

Harvester’s Crew

It’s hard for a woman to light in this world… with men who feel threatened by unafraid girls… who tread a fine balance ‘tween helpless and wise… then fight the hearth battles the rest of their lives. 

I live on the poor side… my extras are few… approached by a boy in the harvester’s crew… he hits me up daily… by night and by day… then they all get loaded and he goes away.

Your folks… they don’t like me because i speak plain…. they say there’s no way we… can weather the strain… i work for my money… i buy my own boots… and if they don’t like me… they can just pass on through.

Your guitar is mellow… come change up your strings… come sit down beside me… and harmony sing… my guitar… it shimmers… it don’t need new strings… and fare you well darling… i can’t wear your ring.

Your truck is near empty… your battery’s dead… come sit down beside me… as long as you can… my truck is warmed up now… my phone’s in my hand… so fare thee well darling… no longer to stand.

LITTLETON, CO - APRIL 20: Visitors bring flowers and spend time at the Columbine Memorial on Monday, April 20, 2015. Today marks the 16th anniversary of the deadly shooting at Columbine High School which left 12 students and one teacher dead. The school was closed for the day, as it has been every year on this day since the shooting occurred in 1999. (Photo by Kathryn Scott Osler/The Denver Post)

Goodbye Stony Creek

 

Sun comes up… another a new day… for the neighbors of Columbine. From Waterton Canyon to Chatfield’s dam… balloons are pepperin’ the sky. And Jim makes off in his khakis and lunch bag… off to his daily tech war. And Bill and Gene are working for Jesus… on the streets of Ward 24.

Goodbye Stony Creek… I’m finally escaping your sorrow… fare thee well till we meet again… don’t you cry… I’ll be fine.

Alec is sick… gonna stay home from school… his momma says she don’t mind. She got three interviews and a schedule to keep… Alec will manage just fine. And Debbie says there’s too much noise… she can’t get no relief. Lay your pretty head down on the pillow dear… maybe you’ll finally sleep.

Goodbye Stony Creek… I’m finally escaping your sorrow… fare thee well till we meet again… don’t you cry… I’ll be fine.

Some of us deal trump to our demons… others are wishin’ we could. And some of us are finding our own way to carry on like legends would. And none of us asked to be here… no no. Many would gladly trade places… to the rock of Coal Mine Avenue… home sweet Stony Creek.

Sun comes up… another a new day… the best of the summer so far. And Carrie’s found some peace on her own… on the hilltops of Clement Park. And as for me… I’m hitting the road… hauling everything to Baltimore. And Bill and Gene have been replaced by some sisters on the streets of Ward 24.

Goodbye Stony Creek… I’m finally escaping your sorrow… fare thee well till we meet again… don’t you cry… I’ll be fine.

Somewhere over the rainbow way up high…
Birds fly over the rainbow why oh why can’t I?

Spotify link… HERE

Dancing Wheel

Step into this big ‘ol house with your hippy braids and innocent smile. Fade like arctic ice… fade like time before the ghosts. Fade the modern world away for a petticoat beauty and her ragamuffin host.

Creeping vines can restrain… and that’ll never do… dreams can help you fly… but please don’t misconstrue… promise for the dream… illusion for the real. Go on … fly away, Renae… turn the dancing wheel.

Oozing old-world charm… sashay down the jaded hall. You gotta face the ghosts… warts and mist… regret and all. You can criticize … but they won’t listen well. And now you’ll never know… what only time can tell.

Creeping vines can restrain… and that’ll never do… dreams can help you fly. But please don’t misconstrue… promise for the dream… illusion for the real. Go on … fly away, Renae… turn the dancing wheel.

And now she’s settled in… finally found a place on the wheel. Made herself a deal… to stop conjuring ghosts. They can criticize… but she never listened anyway. And everything’s ok… for a petticoat lady on the dancing wheel…

Creeping vines can restrain… and that’ll never do… dreams can help you fly. But please don’t misconstrue… promise for the dream… illusion for the real. Go on … fly away, Renae…

The Trouble With Flyin’

 

Rita’s got an interesting problem… she don’t have time for no dates. Looks like she made it… international fame and all the trimmings on her plate.

Strap in babe… a wild wild ride… she’ll make a pile while she can. She can’t remember faces… lovers or friends but she’ll dig it while she still has fans.

The trouble with flyin’… you never know how high you get till the fall. The trouble with leavin’ the ground… you never feel safe till your feet touch down. Stop a while and think it over. Shiny things always come with a price. Put yourself back together… it’s all part of normal life.

A broken man hungry for a second chance… she swept him off of his feet. Took him for a ride and treated him fine… and gave him all the boy could need. Time went by and she fell in love… he talked her into seeing the judge. She’d never been so high as that day in the sun… now he’s ex number one.

The trouble with flyin’… you never know how high you get till the fall. The trouble with leavin’ the ground… you never feel safe till your feet touch down. Stop a while and think it over. Shiny things always come with a price. Put yourself back together… it’s all part of normal life…

All of this runnin’ all this reachin’ and clawin’… all this blood… sweat… and tears… seems so important in the here and now… it won’t matter in a hundred years.

Rita lost her beautiful mansion in May… everything’s up in flames. Seems there’d been some trouble coverin’ the bills… it might have been the only way. Jump out the door and pull the cord and pop yourself a golden ‘chute. You don’t remember askin’ to be born… there’s nothin’ left for you to prove.

The trouble with flyin’… you never know how high you get till the fall. The trouble with leavin’ the ground… you never feel safe till your feet touch down. Stop a while and think it over. Shiny things always come with a price. Put yourself back together… it’s all part of normal life.

All part of normal…
…………all part of normal…
……….all part of normal life.

Spotify link… HERE