01. Dilettantes
02. That's What She Said
03. Goldfish Bowl
04. Waffle House Romance
05. Study Break (These Sunless Days)
06. I Want To Live On Sesame Street
07. Law School Blues
08. Untitled Folk Song
09. Drinkin and Thinkin
SET II
01. Things I Never Showed You
02. Lonely Laying Here
03. Sparky's Blues
04. Viking
05. Unknown
06. Two Different Earths
07. Can't See A Damn
08. Love Dogs
09. Leona Adams
Dilettantes
All alone,
but he sets the table
anyway.
By the phone,
he tries to think of better words to say.
Lets it go,
like fading, fleeting hours of the night.
It’s as though
the avenues that lead to him aren’t right.
By the phone,
he tries to think of better words to say.
Lets it go,
like fading, fleeting hours of the night.
It’s as though
the avenues that lead to him aren’t right.
This is the blanket covering his feet,
the insecurity that feels complete,
The crumpled style never fit to stay,
this is the part that he was meant to play.
In a bar,
he holds a humble whiskey like a rose.
At the floor,
he washes all the wisdom to his toes.
He reflects
on tests and scans and inner bleeding stings.
Through the night,
he’ll drink to watch these baseball players swing.
This is the scene so quivering to tell,
the bitter taste of mediocre hell.
The vaunted veil that’s hampering his sight,
this is the poem that he was meant to write.
In a field,
no one’s there to hear him hit the ground.
At the sky,
he casts his eyes but all he knows is sound.
In a church,
a minister pays tribute to a life,
to a man
who leaves behind a family and a wife.
This is the final painting that we sell,
a congregation caught beneath a bell.
A passing throng of deacons soft as wings,
this is the song that we were meant to sing.
That's What She Said
"Get in my bedroom and don't be blue.
You like to play pretend.
Wish I had a key,
but that might be too bold.
You really love your solitude
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, bowl, your goldfish bowl.
Dead men tell no tales,
or so I’ve been told.
Their words just reflect the light
off gems and foolish gold.
I should write a book,
and make it my life’s goal
to die and find my way to you
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, your bowl, goldfish bowl.
You’re not there
even though I know you are.
You come and go like chronic pain
but you stay in my guitar.
I really want this part.
I’ve studied for the role.
Is there room for you and me
inside your goldfish
bowl, bowl, bowl, goldfish bowl?
Waffle House Romance
Nashville at midnight, I was losing a fight
in a Waffle House with demons and ghosts you can’t see.
That’s when I saw her, like music she entered,
and quivered the air, as she walked straight to me,
walked straight to me,
walked straight to me.
She sat beside me, burned Newports so sadly.
Said: “Man, we are falling like beggars in snow.”
I finished my hashbrowns. She swallowed her coffee grounds.
We left holding hands in the neons that glow,
neons that glow,
neons that glow.
She showed me her scars from a life spent in bars.
Then I showed her mine, a life just as hard.
We rolled and swayed, and the pain went away,
two ugly lost souls just cheating at cards,
cheating at cards,
cheating at cards.
She left at morning. I was still snoring.
Some call it tragic. Others say sin.
But I see her on earth to show men what they’re worth,
to fight off their demons so once they can win,
once they can win,
once they can win.
Study Break (These Sunless Days)
Don’t wanna get dressed.
It’s a sunless day.
Just wanna wear pajamas,
and be on my merry way.
Don’t wanna do my hair,
just leave the make up in the drawer.
I just wanna surrender,
and give up my daily war.
I just want taco salad
and to study for the test,
and for him to make me laugh.
Sunless days are the best, are the best.
Didn’t see your lack of lipstick,
or the wild of your hair.
Your smile trumps these painted things,
always leaves me unaware.
So I'll meet you in pajamas,
taco salad in my hand,
a joke or two, just for you,
to make contracts seem less bland.
The way we slum together
is what I’ll take away,
how you found your way in my song.
God bless these sunless days, these sunless days!
I Want To Live On Sesame Street
If I lived near Big Bird’s house
I’d never have to kill the mouse
that runs the length
of my floor.
A-B-C’s and
these would mean the world to me,
up, down,
near, and far.
My triangles and storybooks,
cooperate with silly looks.
Everything has
a voice.
Celebrities and cookie dreams,
everyday’d taste like ice cream,
sign language
helps hearing impaired.
I want to live on
I want to sit and rest my feet.
I want to live on
but the world is far too real.
I’d never starve. I’d never work.
That Oscar is a fucking jerk.
I’d like to punch
his eyes.
So if I lived near Big Bird’s house
I’d probably never kill that mouse.
We’d dance until
the dawn.
Law School Blues
Oh Law School,
why you gotta be so cruel?
My tears could fill up a pool
from learning your rules.
Went to law school the other day,
heard Professor Heekin say:
"Son, you'll never get an A.
That is just the way...things work in
law school."
Why you gotta be so cruel?
My tears could fill up a pool
from learning your rules.
Today I saw my baby
reading in the library.
She said: "Babe, I'll be home at three
I owe my soul to Professor Jeffries...here in
law school."
Why you gotta be so cruel?
My tears could fill up a pool
from learning your rules.
Hey LP, I am up too late!
Because your memo just can't wait!
I won't see forty at this rate!
Professor Meggett, I'm scared to be great...here in
law school.
Why you gotta be so cruel?
My tears could fill up a pool
from learning your rules.
Untitled Folk Song
I think the time has come to change my mind.
The coffee in my cup has left me blind.
I think the time has come to change my dance,
to tango past the clutches of romance.
Everyday these are the words I mumble
before I take myself into the jungle
where people pound their chests
like beasts to clouds above,
while I feast on unrequited love.
I think the time has come to change my tune,
to polish all the guns and shoot the moon.
I think it’s time to shed some innocence,
to bash the walls, to burn the picket fence.
Everyday I have these little fires
that breathe the oxygen of my desires
to open up my mouth just once
to scream words in your face
to validate all this time I waste.
I think the time has come to stop the rain,
to lick the wounds and stumble through the pain.
I think the time has come to say: THE END,
to swallow all the lumps and start again.
Everyday I think in terms of endings,
abandon what I’ve lost and take my winnings
out into the nighttime noise,
running down the streets.
I’m just searching for other ways to eat.
Drinkin and Thinkin
I been a drinkin and a thinkin
how sanity in me keeps a shrinkin.
I'm drinkin whiskey which is risky
tonight.
I burnt my midnights into sunlights.
Reality, she put up a good fight,
but with scotch, I will watch it
melt away.
Everybody thinks I'm crazy,
and my mind is over-hazy
because she left me here
with bitterness and beer.
I'm a flippin and a trippin
out of my mind I'm a slippin
through make believe I receive
tonight.
I been a drinkin and a thinkin
how people are like eyes that keep blinkin.
I'm drinkin wine, but I'm not fine
tonight.
I've seen some motion in the ocean.
Off the coast of everything there is commotion.
I'm sippin gin, and once again,
sittin here.
All their eyes stares straight at me
with criminal degrees.
They think I lost my way
because I always stay.
I'm where the door meets the floor,
and I won't be back anymore.
I'm mixing mai tais with goodbyes
tonight.
Things I Never Showed You
I’ve got things I never showed you,
knick-knacked broken bits of string,
in a box with a keyhole.
Sometimes I take it out to sing.
Treasures trapped like icy sinners
along the slowly passing years,
mementoes could’ve sworn were winners,
all just practice for the tears.
Here’s the time you touched my hand,
a snow kissed Friday football loss.
There’s the time I was the man
when I helped you bear your cross.
Baby, I am not a dweller.
I’m rarely ever caught like this,
but we are sums of all our journeys,
so I drink, and dream, and reminisce.
Come tomorrow’s rising sun,
different lines will draw me clear.
Tonight’s an ocean of remember,
and all I want to be is here.
Here are all the looks you gave me,
stretched like ribbons to the start.
There’s the time we danced so slowly.
Here’s your laugh. There’s my heart.
I’ve got things I never showed you,
knick-knacked broken bits of string,
in a box with a keyhole.
Sometimes I take it out to sing.
Lonely Laying Here
Shot down on 3rd and 42
Well, her left breast tattoo said "Wanted Dead or Alive."
She got it in Cleveland back in 1965.
I think those fishnet stockings have seen a time or two.
They got these great big holes where the milky white shows through.
And I was really really drunk,
so I believe you'll understand
when I say, "God bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."
The wrinkles on her face go down to Chinatown,
and I was broken up. I was feeling down.
Her grandma hands were something like some kinda awful dream,
and when she hold me close she smelled like Aspercreme.
And I was really really drunk,
so I believe you'll understand
when I say, "God bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."
Loving's double good from ladies twice your age,
a quiet little fact taken strictly from the page.
Did I do the deed? Did I play that show?
Well beggars can't be choosers, love, and that's all you need to know.
And I was really really drunk,
so I believe you'll understand
when I say, "God bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."
Viking
Have I ever sang a song of praise
to the solid standing structures, towers that you raise?
My love for our adventures, Cajun Cuban things?
That's where you're a viking.
Your ingenuity gets the best of me
when you lead me by the hand to the worlds you only see,
and connect them with a thought, tie them with a string.
That's here you're a viking.
Sick and tired, when I picked you up.
Your nerves were calmed by the whiskey in your cup,
and all at once like thunder, flames inside your throat,
you found our inner strength to fight the mountain goats...
you fought the mountain goats.
Sick and tired, when I picked you up.
Your nerves were calmed by the whiskey in your cup,
and all at once like thunder, flames inside your throat,
you found our inner strength to fight the mountain goats...
Everyday I'm counting all my many prayers,
like how I am so lucky when you push me in my chair,
and how I am so rich 'cause you're gold everything.
That's where you're a viking.
That's where you're a viking.
That's where you're a viking.
Unknown
People have told me,
Two Different Earths
She thinks I’m strong. I think she’s wrong.
Love Dogs
Slow down.
I thought about you today.
Leona Adams,
this is how I pray.
I wondered if you wanted
to play.
Leona Adams –
busty Miss Seventeen.
Cystic Fibrosis
kept you from being prom queen.
Sometimes I think you were
a dream.
Leona Adams,
you wished we were closer in age
so we could be lovers,
and you could keep turning the page,
but your life was only
a cage.
