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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!

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.

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…

I Ain’t Got No Home

Birthday tribute – Woody Guthrie!
(July 14, 1912 – October 3, 1967)

I ain’t got no home… m’luck has finally stalled.
Just a willing worker… i go from job to job.

Cops make it hard… wherever i may go.
And i ain’t got no home in the world any more.

Brothers and sisters all… are filling up this road.
A hot and dusty road… where a million feet have trod.

Landlord took my home… and drove me from my door…
And i ain’t got no home in the world any more.

Worked the late-night shifts… scrubbin’ tile floors.
Paycheck in my hand… and out the mailbox door.

The plague found my partner… the clinic’s over full.
And i ain’t got no home in the world any more.

I detail pre-owned cars… i cleaned the hotel rooms.
Took the angry calls of extended warranty fools.

I worry all the time… like i never did before.
And i ain’t got no home in the world any more.

As i look around… it’s mighty plain to see.
This world is a strange… and funny place to be.

Owners are rich… the workers are poor…
And i ain’t got no home in the world any more.

I ain’t got no home… m’luck has finally stalled.
Just a willing worker… i go from job to job.

Cops make it hard… wherever i may go.
And i ain’t got no home in the world any more.

https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/01/1000-migrants-returned-libya-year-200114132748736.html

Human Beans

The fronts are building now… there’s a cold wind blowin’ through. And good folks everywhere talk about the chosen few. They can’t help themselves… it’s only human beans… to cling tight to their notions… and that’s just what they do.

A piece of dirt both sides… they claim for themselves. They swear by God someday… justice will prevail. They can’t help themselves… it’s only human beans… to want more than is had… well… nothing fills the pail.

I know… it’s a cold cruel world… I know… you gotta make do for yourself. I know… people never satisfy. I know… disproportion breeds hatred. I know… the gap of disproportion grows. I know… nothing ever stays the same………

Every living breath is a part of us all. Makes sense to extend a hand. Are you sure you want the whole world bearin’ down on you… are you sure you want the call?

The fronts are building now… better dig your graveyards proud. ‘Cos good folks everywhere… well they’re ready to throw it down. They can’t help themselves it’s only human beans… to fight for love and pride… in the rain… they gladly drown.

I know…
I know…
I know…
I know.

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