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.

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?

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.

The Load

 

Fifth time today… ya call me from work… gotta tell me how you think your boss is a jerk. C’mon Babe… I don’t know what you want me to do. It’s startin’ to feel like a block & chain… like a massive dead weight packin’ years of pain. A three-car garage and a die-for mountain view.

What are we gonna do?
I’m goin’ crazy I wish we knew…
how to live where less is more.

My head is achin’… my legs are shakin’… my back is breakin’ and we carry the load. The world is turnin’ and gravity’s workin’ pullin’ people holdin’ things spinnin’ outta control…

“Can’t go to sleep till the anger’s gone,” says your worried… wise… and serious mom. The ashtrays are full now… the lights are on 5:00am. Well I’m not sayin’ I know all it takes to keep a love affair from fallin’ into desperate straits… but I’m sure another smoke ain’t gonna help at all.

What are we gonna do?
I’m goin’ crazy i wish we knew…
how to live where less is more.

My head is achin’… my legs are shakin’… my back is breakin’ and we carry the load. The world is turnin’ and gravity’s workin’ pullin’ people holdin’ things spinnin’ outta control.

How does good fortune get so hard?
And these troubles can’t just be disregarded.

What are we gonna do?
I’m goin’ crazy cos I still… love… you.

My head is achin’… my legs are shakin’… my back is breakin’ and we carry the load. The world is turnin’ and gravity’s workin’ pullin’ people holdin’ things spinnin’ outta control. My heart is cryin’ my soul is dyin’… and time is flyin’ while we carry the load. This ain’t right… we don’t need all these trappings like artificial wealthy people livin’ on loans… I…

Love you madly…
need you badly…
but we can’t go on…
keepin’ on… lugging this load.

Let’s get packed… simplify now.
We don’t need this crap… bury the load!

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.