Tuesday, June 26, 2012

This Night

There are things
I have done
There's a place
I have gone
There's a beast
And I let it run
Now it's running . . .
My way

There are things
I regret
You can't forgive
You can't forget
There's a gift
That you sent
You sent it . . .
My way

So take this night
Wrap it around me like a sheet
I know I'm not forgiven
But I need a place to sleep
So take this night
And lay me down on the street
I know I'm not forgiven
But I hope that I'll be given . . .
Some peace

There's a game
That I play
There are rules
I had to break
There's mistakes
That I made
But I made them . . .
My way

Monday, June 18, 2012

Desolation Row

They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Cinderella, she seems so easy
'It takes one to know one,' she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
'You Belong to Me I Believe'
And someone says, 'You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave'
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row

Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
You would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have mercy on his soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row

Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
In a perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get outta here if you don't know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"

Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which side are you on?"
And Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fisherman hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday
About the time the door knob broke
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Now unless you mail them
From Desolation Row

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Happy Happy Joy Joy..

One shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, I know.. but I cant help but wonder why I've been feeling so gosh darn happy off late.. No particular reason, I assure you.. Job's about the same, no developments on the love-life front, no new toys or new friends.. nothing.. and not just that, things that would ruin my day ordinarily, dont seem to have any effect on me.. I'm just shrugging them off and moving right along..
I'm the proverbial fool on the hill.. and man do I feel fine..
I was riding home from work yesterday.. and it was a tough day at work.. interesting, but tough.. and i was braving 42 deg C heat and smoke and dust and rush hour traffic.. and starting to get a little irritated.. I was riding behind an auto when suddenly i found myself surrounded by a cloud of bubbles..
Two little girls with bubble wands were blowing soap bubbles out the sides of the auto.. and it was delightful.. I was giggling and humming to myself all the way back home..
In other news  I discovered a wonderful new watering hole.. good music, good food, affordable beer and a short drive away.. :)

I feel very Woosteresque.. so I'm gonna leave off with an old favorite..
The year’s at the spring,
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hill-side’s dew-pearled;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in His heaven—
All’s right with the world!

Monday, June 4, 2012


Sheets of empty canvas
Untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me
As her body once did
All five horizons
Revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed
Has taken a turn

Oh and all I taught her was everything
Oh I know she gave me all that she wore
And now my bitter hands
Chafe beneath the clouds
Of what was everything
Oh the pictures have
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything
I take a walk outside
I'm surrounded by
Some kids at play
I can feel their laughter
So why do I sear
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin
Round my head
I'm spinning
Oh, I'm spinning
How quick the sun can, drop away

And now my bitter hands
Cradle broken glass
Of what was everything
All the pictures had
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything
All the love gone bad
Turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see
All that I am
All I'll be

I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
I know you'll be a star
In somebody else's sky
But why
Why can't it be
Why can't it be mine