Lord Byron

i wore black
(and) that's a Johnny Cash fact
but he's not coming back
even though he once read the Farmer's Almanac
on a cold summer night
when the entire world felt warm
and he heard thunder
and soon a terrible storm
carried him to the highest point
millions of people saw him coming and passed a joint
i saw his smile fading to the bone
watched him in the far corner all alone
fooling with a six string guitar
gas in his waiting car
a road map on the seat
while he listened to the radio playing
the Folsom Prison Blues
he grabbed a pair of running shoes
and went looking for some heat
a setting sun and a crescent moon
i kept humming his latest tune
and The Price Was Right
was keeping me up all night
Captain Kangaroo wouldn't tell me what to do
before the show came to a shocking end
when Mayor Phineas T. Bluster called me his best friend
he brought a lot of love to my afternoon parlor room tea
and a hot cup of coffee
under the spreading Chestnut tree
he played the matador and i the crazy bull
we'd both keep eating until we were full
the evening news said we had no choice but to choose
between Lord Byron and Disney dog Pluto
and so
everything seemed designed to clarify or confuse
and we didn't know what else to use
to open our bottle of fine California wine
we bought in a store down in old San Antonio
which is where we were told to go
to hear the man in black
who was hiding in a Lone Star sack
no longer on his feet
he sang flat on his back
the Folsom Prison Blues
he grabbed a pair of running shoes
and went looking for some heat
i saw him disappearing down Alamo Street
but i heard him singing yesterday
and that's something that i'm proud to say.

Earth Man

Earth Man
walked across an Indian desert with his guitar in hand
took a swim in a fresh water pond where he stole their drink
tossed his empty glass into a stainless steel kitchen sink
sat in a easy chair where he hoped to think
when a girl from Des Moines
asked if he had any spare coins
but he had none
he stood up to go looking for some fun
but everything had already been done
so he walked onto bright Town Avenue where brilliant flowers once grew
and saw an electric car parked by the side of a busy road
with a lithium battery about to explode
the driver side door painted Pacific blue
he kicked it with his Amazon Prime jungle shoe
and a security camera watched him light up a smoke
he laughed at his own imagined joke
but tossed it away with a long note of fresh disdain
before the thunderstorm of lightning and imminent rain
lit up the sky and made his walking tough
he said all the edges felt rough
but with a cheap suitcase and a east coast bookstore map
he pulled on his favorite Minnesota Twins baseball cap
and walked aimlessly for several hours
to reach a corner of the famous twin towers
of New York City where he looked for a dog but found a lost kitty
and the passing woman gave him a big apple kiss
he was suspicious but nothing seemed terribly amiss
because he was the kind of man who liked to get from here to there
and she hadn't asked for money so he didn't really care
he got his dander up and she got her hair pins down
they decided to grab a brush and paint the town
but they found none
they went looking for some fun
into the countryside where they found a giant oak
he laughed at his own imagined joke
and with a picnic basket of cheap dreams
he told the lady he wasn't exactly as he seems
but it was okay to eat a fine meal and have an even bigger drink
i saw him sit in an easy chair where he hoped to think
and he put her on his lap
with a cheap suitcase and an east coast bookstore map
she said she wasn't exactly as she appeared
and he looked at her and their faces neared
there was a moment of quiet reflection but it came and went
a voice was heard which they believed was Heaven sent
and nervously crawled into their survivalist tent
the lights went low and everything grew quiet
and near the end there was no whispering and no laughing riot
so i packed my bags and put on my traveling shoes
with my guitar in hand i wanted to learn to play the blues
motivated by the headlines of yesterdays' news:
the World might have been a poet but couldn't find a muse.

mama it's hot inside the oven

mama it's hot inside the oven
so hot in there
my sign is melting
it says BEWARE!
mama it's hot inside the oven
so hot in there
my pie is baking
steam EVERYWHERE!
gonna get me a cook book
wanna take a quick look
gonna stir the pot
give it everything i got
mama it's hot inside the oven
so hot in there
my sign is melting
it says BEWARE!
mama it's hot inside the oven
so hot in there
my pie is baking
steam EVERYWHERE!
mama it's hot inside the oven
so hot in there
i can't get no air
it doesn't seem fair
my pie is baking
steam EVERYWHERE!
mama it's hot inside the oven
so hot
help me stir the pot.

i had no clue

there was a floor above the basement blues

which could be walked on with a pair of new shoes

and a communication gap in the evening news

which aired our dirty laundry on national tv

where there always remained the possibility

of someone being honest with the latest story;

the drums of August sounded fine

when i swallowed my last drop of red wine

sitting at the white house table to dine

wearing a pair of old sneakers and a fancy French hat;

i heard the quarrel between the cat and the rat

but i kept trying to ignore that;

i hit my head on a stone wall until it bled

waiting to be with you and be fed;

i guess it wasn't only what i said,

it was what i didn't do

when i was without you

and the waiter delivered his tray of Super Glue

which sealed my lips

so my hips 

shook like a down dog

and i sank like a heavy log

so low i fell to the cellar floor

my clean jeans tore

i couldn't see my hands in front of my face

i rested my case

there didn't seem to be a way out of there

i took off my underwear

and played with myself

maybe there was a Dostoevsky book on a nearby shelf

i had no clue.

painting in a corner

i've been painting in a corner
colors are falling like spring rain
first they fill up my bucket
then they head down my drain
and i've been idly watching
there are people rushing by
everyone is acting busy
and i can't figure out why
first there was a Sunday
when i heard voices from the choir
they started out softly and low
but kept getting higher
and the singers smiled so brightly
the rafters began to shake
i saw their lips moving
but couldn't decide if it was real or fake
they looked at me like an old friend
i was offered a front row seat
it felt like the good times were rolling
but there was no one special to meet
and then came a busy Friday
when the working class grew tired
a damsel in distress said she knew me
but i didn't want to be hired
i was asked to carry her luggage
and i've been asked to tie her shoe
sometimes i knew the easy answer
sometimes i didn't know what to do
i wore my hat on a cold day
saw the sidewalks covered with snow
the traffic lights flashed their warning
i couldn't decide which way to go
i felt healthy at midnight
i felt sick as hell at noon
i imagine a garden full of ripe fruit
and i'll have to go there soon
every time i stopped to read a new book
a yellow bus came to offer a ride
an old man yelled that he could save me
but i always suspected that he lied.

something i said

the radio played
a Johnny Cash song
and i wanted to sing along
but found myself in heavy traffic
on a Sunday afternoon
i wanted to be home soon
when i saw the suits and ties and dresses
walking to the neighborhood church where only guesses
would ever be made
their lovely flowers bundled and laid
at my feet
it was more than i could hope to eat
and the story flashed across my windshield
like a wiper in a storm
i turned on my heater to stay warm
when a next song from Fleetwood Mac
reminded me to never turn back
so dutifully straight ahead i sped
down to the nearest tidal shore
past the formal front door
and on my way
i saw the spires and heard the spinning tires
of one hundred years about to unfold
i saw hungry hours inside a box being readied to be sold
they tried to grab me by the nose
when Kurt Vonnegut whispered
"and so it goes"
out from the sea
into the woods and across the field
where i fell on my sword and was carried on my shield
a song kept repeating in my head
was it something i said?
the radio played
it seemed familiar but wasn't something that i made
i wanted to be home soon
overhead i saw the shimmering moon
and heard a Johnny Cash song
and i wanted to sing along.