edge of dying

when you are on the edge of dying
and it's winter time everywhere,
your friends are still looking for an easy way
but all they can do is stare:
a cold wind is blowing across the street
wrapping it's frozen arms around their feet.
you turn your head for a quick look behind
only to realize you've almost lost your mind:
there's no one walking without a mask
and the sky is torn and frayed.
people rushing for the open door
and no one stopped or stayed.
everyone is waiting for the silver train
for a trip to where wishes always come true:
in my hand two tickets for the ride,
one for me and the other one is saved exclusively for you.

nothing important to lose

i was breathing fire
sitting on my evening chair
listening to a soulful choir
singing of the homesick blues...
i could be listening to the Rolling Stones
but really, really why should i choose?
when the chips are down
i have nothing important to lose.
music of The Cream
relaxing my nervous grip
took me to a lover's dream
singing of the homesick blues...
i could be listening to the Rolling Stones
but really, really why should i choose?
when the chips are down
i have nothing important to lose.
she gave me a chance
blowing on my uncut hair
whispering about romance
how to count the ways
her breathing came so easy
she's down on her knees to gaze
singing of the homesick blues...
i could be listening to the Rolling Stones
but really, really why should i choose?
when the chips are down
i have nothing important to lose.
it was near midnight
she asked for my autograph
i used a finger to write
singing of the homesick blues...
i could be listening to the Rolling Stones
but really, really why should i choose?
when the chips are down
i have nothing important to lose.

Willie & Trigger

Willie rode in
on his old '44
as the sun was just rising
over the southern Texas shore:
his jeans were torn
his beard was young
he sang his songs
with a righteous rebel tongue
from Austin north to the Arkansas line
his words struck hard
his music soft and fine
and in Luckenbach
where he drank a beer or two
he passed a couple of burning joints
to his outlaw road weary crew
and fancied a Spanish señorita
in his pickup bed
who famously memorized every famous word
he ever wrote or said!
Willie rode in
to the mean courthouse lawn
like a Red Headed Stranger
at the angry break of dawn
where he threw all his money
aimed squarely at the IRA
and got back On the Road Again
to tour the good ol' USA
inside sweet riding Honeysuckle Rose
with four packs a day and a grizzled smile
a guitar on his lap he called Trigger
playing easy chords for free mile after steady mile
To All the Girls I've Loved Before
the strumming carried mellow for the whole length of his ride
along with the furs and the Indian feathers
he asked for one more chance to keep you satisfied!
Willie rode in
on his old '44
as the sun was just rising
over the southern Texas shore:
his jeans were torn
his beard was young
he sang his songs
with a righteous rebel tongue
from Austin north to the Arkansas line
his words struck hard
his music soft and fine
and in Luckenbach
where he drank a beer or two
he passed a couple of burning joints
to his outlaw road weary crew
and fancied a Spanish señorita
in his pickup bed
who famously memorized every famous word
he ever wrote or said!

a body stacked full of tools

i grabbed my hat and bags
found you looking at the ceiling
took you with me
asking how you're feeling:
we went to check out the park
heard wild animal sounds in the dark
i knew you were interested in the local zoo
feeding the monkey isn't all you like to do
well, you like to pet the lion
i saw him take his last breath before dying
he never even knew your name
but to you it was all the same
one good laugh and a dance floor full of fools
a pretty face and a body stacked full of tools
i grabbed my hat and bags
found you looking at the ceiling
took you with me
asking how you're feeling:
we went to check out the beach
you wore a teacher's hat so you could teach
i knew you were interested in the local zoo
feeding the monkey isn't all you like to do
well, you like to pet the lion
he took his last breath before dying
you never even knew his name
to you it was all the same
one good laugh and a dance floor full of fools
a pretty face and a body stacked full of tools
don't eat another piece until it cools
a pretty face and a body stacked full of tools

listening to Cream

i asked her to remove her bra
it was the loveliest thing i ever saw
peaches and cream and two points of light:
we could have partied into the night
dancing the floor playing The Who!
she asked if there was something i'd rather do
and at first i didn't have a clue.
well, i said, maybe listening to Cream,
after all, if this was only a dream
perhaps the two of us could become a tag team
wrestling crazies and angel-headed fuckers
who pretend to be hipsters and long haul truckers:
oh hell, we'll drive our magic bus down the steepest street
stopping only when our holy lips meet,
banging on kettle drums like a Meat Loaf bun,
flying like a Bat Out of Hell singing Here Comes the Sun!
listening to Cream
is more than it might seem.