Cherokee woman , distant smile,
Cherokee woman it's been awhile,
let the warm winds carry your voice to me,
hear the  rustle of your hand made beads,
smell the hint of jasmine in your hair,
soft soled foot steps, I can feel you there.
Cherokee woman, distant smile,
Cherokee woman it's been awhile.
Catfish sunning in the morning light,
splash of ducklings, signs of new life.
Feel the need to close the miles,
move a little closer to that Cherokee smile.
Snow is melting  and the rivers run,
days are longer with warming sun.
Cherokee woman, shake your beads for me,
let the wind carry your scent of jasmine.
Distant smile come closer then a dream.
Cherokee woman no longer needs to wait for me.

It greets your nose with mixture of smoke, perfume and stale beer.
On the counter , an empty pickle jar , a few dollars in there.
Always a need for that jar , times get rough,
it's  a way we help friends and pray it never is us.
Band is setting up and sound checks going right,
few folks already here, going to be a good night.
Folks come in here to take a load off  for awhile,
some come to sip, others to get plum wild.
Barmaid looking good with that pushup bra,
boy got lucky and married her last fall.
Six days a week this bar rocks and rolls
and true to the good Lord  on Sunday we closed.
A few new boys and gals here to night,
pitching pick up lines, one might be right.
Someone will get lucky and cross that line,
someone will be in luck, get drunk  but leave the car for the night.
This old bar is a meet and greet place,
information gets passed and memories erased.
Cookouts in the back for a charity or two.
Bike wash, car wash, a  flash of skin might happen too.
All in all, this place fits us all,
I'm glad to say that I am a part of this old bar.

The taste of Life , though bittersweet,
still lingers on my lips.
Tainted with what is known now,
smeared with what I missed.
My eyes no longer all aglow,
my heart no open door.
My lips are chapped with reality,
my tongue ,silenced above the roar.
Oh Life, give me a crytal ball,
no need to be shimmering clear.
Let me catch just a sliver of a glance,
tainted lips, bile after taste , what I had always feared.
I gave, I took, I watched and often all with smiling lips.
To thank me for what I sacrificed...
you leave me to face this.....
Twist the blade you leave behind...please!

Well there is 'shine' coming down from the Carolines,
Brothers I haven't seen in quite some time.
Each year we gather here , rain or shine,
it's the gathering, the Meeting time.
We all will stare into the flames,
pass that jug, time and again.
Talk , spit , joke and  smoke,
just alot of catching up.
Then the business will be discussed at hand.
What needs to be doing and help where we can.
Dues will be paid and treasure report.
Pass the jug for another snort.
Food will be prepared on that old trusty grill.
Fire will be a blazing to bust down the chill.
Know old Shu is going to bring that guitar out.
Sitting with my Brothers is what it's all about.
Come morning we will all fire up our sleds,
remembering the plans and what had been said.
By noon all that will be left of what happened at all,
is the burning embers and empty jars.

It's two days till payday and  my shelves are almost bare.
Got one or two cups of noodle and a can of beans hiding somewhere.
Not to sure about these hot dogs, seem a little too brown,
it's two days till pay day and this stomach  is starting to growl.
Two days till pay day and one roll of toilet paper left.
Squeezed the last bit of toothpaste, guess they'll just have to take my bad breath.
Reboiled the coffee, well its' still still half way black,
two days till pay day, back tire going flat!
Just saw the mail man, my mailbox is filled,
lots of "you owe us money", my fan mail bills.
Two days till pay day, cable TV just went off,
would call with the problem but it cost money to talk.
Well look out  cup of noodles, I get hungry when I am bored.
Good thing I don't have much to munch on, bright side to being poor!

It's been a year and friends come and go,
my wish to all is that  with the snow,
a new beginning with wishes clear...
have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

I have enjoyed the friends met here on Hello, wish to meet more and continue the Journey.

Find that which gives you peace...
hold it in your reserve.....
find it to give you strength
when all seems to unnerve.
With out the peace that calms the soul..
the weight of the world seems a unbearable load.
Call upon the reserve you have , tucked away...
let peace come to you, the storm at bay.
We create our own Hell sometimes it seems...
yet healing can come with a little peace.

It' been ten days since I spoke to you..
nine days since my heart was torn in two...
Eight days since you spiraled at what ever we said..
Seven days since you did'nt respect me as your Dad..
Six days  days of me trying to stay calm..
five days of geting phone calls from your Mom..
four days you have slept back under my roof...
three days of us trying to work it through...
two days of us laughing again...
And one day since you said you were sorry!
But who's counting!

I see leaves from trees, winter wind just a blowing,
making an assualt like paratroopers on folks  lawns.
I hear the geese  gather up and form their formations,
quaking loudly that they are up and gone.
Morning rush to the work has to be coordinated,
that old truck needs time to warm up.
frost on the winshield, wind just a blowing,
time for one more coffee warm up.
Evening breeze brings the smell of wood stoves going,
holiday baking  and burning leaves from the yards.
Yes I do believe ... Winter is here!

His Daddy always would stop and stare,
in the window, back in town, at the boots displayed there.
These stops did not go un noticed, to the sons' alert eyes...
yes these boots come Christmas, yes these will be the surprise.
Our world is entangled, a war we do not believe,
these wars seperate family, even on Christmas eve.
Some of our sons and daughters, husband ,brothers
and wives, all fight for a call for freedom.....some
the ultimate sacrifice.
Twas the ringing of the door bell,
a sound some have become to fear,
that brought this waiting family to the brink of endless tears.
Yet there in the door way, not a messenger of bad news,
stood the returning father, home from the war so soon.
Arms hold each other. Son  and Father unite.
This is a Merry Christmas.This is an awsome sight.
The son rushes to the tree, the present  to retrieve.
In his blind joy of his fathers return, there was something he had'nt seen.
As the boots are presented, tears run down the fathers face.
Yes son these are  the very best boots but there is something out of place.
You see I have been wounded, these feet are not really mine.
I lost both of my good ones with a few of my friends lives.
Hey though little buddy, these boots I will always keep.
This Christmas I am still home with you, it only cost me two feet!




* As Long as Our Troops  Are There, We Should Be there Too. If not Physical, then in Mind and Spirit! Ironbutt

The scene of the accident, folks all standing around.
Everybody's cell phone out , must text this now.
Post this on Facebook, got to Tweet my friends.
Someone is reading this text while driving
and BANG...it starts all over again!
Couples don't gaze into each others eyes
while in a restaurant  no they are texting with one hand, what the hell is wrong?
For a world that objects to invasion of their privacy,
like the security check for a plane seat,
Yet we see more of them  then need to see
every time they Tweet!

I have spiraled this way to the ground before.
From the highest pinnacle of happiness
to be crashed on failures rocky shores.
The taste of emptiness, bile of reject.
The pain of a heart torn from my chest.
I have felt all of these way before you could speak.
Now you have laid these  same feeling on me.
I am not a newcomer to this way , I know what to do.
I have walked in the shadows long before you.
To maintain my sanity I have Black and White,
cross neither of these lines and I sleep well at night.
My heart is an *****, a God given gift.
Though I may feel like dying, I know I still live.
Me still living ..well that's the Black and White...
for if I feel pain...I know Iam still alive!
They say one day knowledge will come.
All that was said will be undone.
I  cover this thought with a pain hidding smile
I had these same thoughts as I raised you woman from a child.
They say it is sad that no words from me  to you part.
I say it is best to remain silent , only speak with my heart.
If you can not see what your actions have wronged,
then I feel such a fool  to have trusted the bond.
They say if you love it, let it be free...
if it returns ..then it was to be.
I say a Father never lets go..
for if she must run, he becomes the road.
If she must fly, he becomes her wings.
If she is in danger , he becomes the steel.
You may  deny your status , cut family ties..
but a Father is a Father till the day that he dies.

Dedicated to 'Big John' 1954-2002


It's time to prep for the nights show,
the band is already unloading at the back door.
Got to brief the new guy and rewalk the floor,
let too many in here the night before.
Use cardboard and tape to protect the ribs.
Shin guards in place  for all those low hits.
Take off the jewlery and tie back the hair,
leave nothing for them to grab when you step out there.
Drink lots of water, swallow a pain pill...
it's show time for a bouncer they say is over the hill.
Crowds looking good for a Saturday night.
Plenty of women, yet somebody will fight.
Seems  when not enough space and too much *****,
messes up the calculation of one and one equals two!
Got two female bouncers that are a special class act.
They know how to work it and come in real fast.
Big John gives me the nod and it time to open the doors.
Lets Rock and Roll baby we are here until four!




* Big John was a bouncer that took me under his wing ( a huge wing) taught me to be polite yet forcefull. 99% of folks just come to have a good time.It's that 1% that will try to ruin it.That's where we come in.

An unguarded moment let a memory unlock a door....
a place we had agreed we wouldn't visit anymore.
In the center of the room a lone rocking chair...
memories swept through me , a chill in the air.
The chair began to rock and a familiar perfume...
I was taken back to a place..me and you.
The softness of your hair,the lips, the touch...
oh how I remember what I miss so much.
Daggers of pain pierce my flesh...
all of this memory I have worked to forget.
The chairs' rocking tempo spins out of control..
the air in the room is uncomfortably cold.
I try to leave and resecure the door...
this memory  must be left...I 'm not  reliving more.
The eyes I swam in , how they turned to coal,
the warming touch that went icy cold.
Those lips that spit those final words...
I spin with these daggers..never healed from the hurt.
The demons that invaded our lives of one,
I could have helped you fight but it was not what you want.
My mind is now on full alert...gather the stength..one final ****.
The door slams shut, I find the lock...
Silence  envelopes me...the chair final stops........
One tiny scratch behind the door..I hear the pain daggers drop to the floor.

When men were men, Mountain men, they would shout out a small greeting to those approaching, some were very discriptive...here is mine:

Born in a blizzard, back in a grizzly's cave,
drank wolf milk, use a knife to shave.
Can out spit, out run, out shoot any known
man alive.
Can fight two or more men just to keep it fair,
now get down from your horse and tell me
what the hell your doing here!

Man I tell you I was born in the wrong century.
Open land, cooking outside, trade my furs for a good woman.
Shoot guns, drink whiskey...hell it don't get any better then that.
Course I would change a few things, like..I would need my toilet paper,
that corn husk thing , well I'm not for all that.
I'd have to figure out how to put a heater and windshield on that horse of mine too.
I'd **** sure would get me a better rifle then that Hawkins( mind you it was the rifle of its time) just to even up the score when them city slickers start trying to sneak away my whiskey.
Ah, yes just rambling. Anyways back to the real world.

I sit..... my face melts into my coffee cup....
self pity demons raise  up from the tablecloth
and slam my head on the table top..again..and again.
My heart kicks at the chestwalls that keep it from its freedom.
I am out of here it screams!
Why am I still just siting here?
A whisp of freedom promise is still ringing in my head....
wonderful words she had said.
Slam..slam , the demons smash my head on the table top.
Are you done yet? Are you still siting here?
We can do this all day. Move, say something!
Self pity is not your path...your the mover, the motivator...
the one who always has the right answers to someone elses happiness.
Why not you this time?
The heart quits kicking at my chestwalls..either it is tired or it feels me
mulling over the questions.....perhaps a chance, perhapes one more go around .
I see images in my coffee cup of couples holding hands, young and old alike....so happy, so together, so....in love?
Still other images emerge...families still doing things together... camping, fishing, movies...so real...so like I planned it....
slam! Slam!   The demons are not letting up......Ok , I know what they want.....but first I need a fresh cup of coffee, this one has too many memories  floating around in it.
Perhapes I should make that call, write that letter....just go.

There, surrounded by her handmaidens, under the mystic mint leave,
lies the last of the great guardians...dying.
Born years ago , far away,  a magical birth  created from two dust dots from the Wishing Star, the Last Wish Star Guardian came to be, here to guard and priorities all wishes made by the Humans.
Dying.... her mystical powers draining from her ever so slowly. Her handmaidens weeping and confused. How can this be? A Guardian never dies. What is wrong? What has upset the mystical powers in the Universe?
Slowly the Great Guardian rises...... speaks, in a mere whisper...yet speaks.
This day is happening to me... to us....to the Universe because someone has stolen the Sacred Parchment. This  document which I have been intrusted to guard, protect has all the names and wishes that I must account for. Without it...I have no purpose...no life...no powers. It must be found..soon or I will perish and with me will die the powers of the Wish Star.
Word rapidly spread throughout the magical land and a hero was summond to take on the quest to find the stolen parchment and to save the Last Guardian. He had to be true of heart. A believer and most of all ...... in love.
Of all the the requirements, the last was hard to find yet finally the handmaidens found their champion and the quest was on.
Why did the champion have to be in love you ask? Well the answere is truely to simple for that.
LOVE CONQUERS ALL!

Im in the arms of an Angel,
not for my eternal rest,
the heart beat of my Grandaughter
keeping a rythem on my chest.
Eyes that shine brightly,
new paths  to explore.
In the arms of my little Angel
I have alot to look forward.
Somewhere up in the Heavens,
a roll count is being  kept.
I am sure they will come up short one......
she's  cuddled on my chest.

Your arms reach out for me, still unsure of the touch.
Your eyes search mine for confirmation,
could there  be  love this much.
Every day of your being has made it harder to be apart.
Not one to fall so easily yet I have surrendered to you my heart.
I make no false predictions, no blind eye to what lays beyond
I promise only my committment to be beside you until you say Be gone.
My strength will be your vessel. My love your guiding star.
My patience there beside you.My wisdom to  to steer from wrong.
Again your arms reach out to hold me, this time I  guide them in.
It is a new found feeling,  Love..... let the new journey begin.



I dedicate this poem to my new granddaughter  Sophie. Sep 24 2010.

In a window of an old pawn shop, you stood there looking back at me,
I could tell we both had some hard roads, two of a kind it seems.
So I went in and asked for your freedom, seemed the right thing
to do at the time.
We have traveled a many back roads, yep we are two of a kind.
Your face carries as  many scars as I have of my own.
They say it  is a note book of the lessons learned the hard way,
on the road we travel on.
We've seen the insides of most bars, back allys
and a ditch or two.
Guess there really aint much we haven't done, two of a kind, us two.
Yep I get  a new stich here and there, you get a new string or two.
Back together on the road, singing, telling, writing.
It's what we  were meant to do.
Some would say  this is crazy, the thing we  have at this time.
I say let them think what  they want. We are buds, pals...
two of a kind.

I dare not hold you,
not the fear of spilling your drink
It is the constant reminder,
how you can change in just a blink.
You are the one I try to love ,
try  Oh how true...
useless to to give that a thought
when the alchol hits you.
Walked in rain and screamed to the skies,
who created such a thing!!!!
Those lips that should be touching mine,
poisoned with this drink.
Eyes that should see clear the bridges that she burns,
focus on nothing else but the next glass that she yearns.
From her perch, the barstool throne, empires crumble
at her feet.
Not caring as she grasps her refilled glass,
tomorrow's empty sheets.

http://authspot.com/short-stories/and-so-it-came-to-pass/

Ti's a sad thing when the mind closes down,
that last trick on our life as Death  starts his prowl.
Leaves the body with no warming thoughts,
memories of life lived full of joy and love.
Or perhapes it is not such a tragedy,
a way  compassion joins peace of mind in company.
Yet , here the living still find it a pain,
looking in the eyes of love , never to recall again.

Growing up too  fast and worry about the  dance she missed.
The World  seems so wrong when a teenager has a kid.
The social circle seems to pass her by,
hear her  on the cell phone as she starts to cry.
Want to hold her, she is still so much a child.
Reasure her that life has not passed her by.
Let her know the worth of the treasure she hold.
Find more comfort in her child then any friends she could ever own.
Her heart  may skip a beat ,
some day it will be worth the pain  from the child she keeps.
I know right now she has got the teenager blues,
some day  she will be able to get through the grey and see the blue.
Right now I just hold them  both , mother and child.
Daughter and grand daughter, just rest and relax, close your eyes.
My heart skips a beat.

http://authspot.com/poetry/newborn-let-the-journey-begin/

They met here, not by plan but chance,
an exchange of ideas, melody, poetry,
not romance.
Each day their time and exchanges grew longer,
the strings of support becoming ever much stronger.
The words and poetry came much easier then,
the melody and lyrics rushed out of them,
yet neither knew nor confessed,
that better as two, they did their best.
The winds carried their  poetry to a listening crowd.
They gathered regular at the Corner, ready to be wow'd.
Too  much  into each others poetry exchanges,
the two continued....yet everywhere, somewhere.
things are a changing.
Who knows which one  found themself to far,
had made a promise to not get envolved.
One day the Corner only presented one,
that poet  realized the absence,  the music was gone.
Poetry and music, lyrics and words,
still on the Corner today can be heard.
The regular still come and they want to be wow'd.
One lonely poet tries to please them some how.

Oh my Love, your leaving me has taken the warmth from my veins.
Replaced it with a  river of steel that burns,
forever crashing with misery and pain.
  The lift has been taken from the wings of love,
as I am no longer cradled there with you,
I am here now , earth bound, alone....it's true..
..you are gone.
           The songs  of joy, once so resoundful,
no longer ring in my ears.
The only  sound that echoes now, the knock on the door
I had feared.
This stone that marks the place where my Love now lays,
has become my alter, my place I seek,
each and every day.
Oh my Love you leaving me has taken the warmth from my veins.
I dream of us , talk of us, whish.....until we meet again.



This is a dedication. We all think of widows during War, primarily as the females role. In modern conflicts, this role has become a shared pain. Freedom comes with  a cost. Not all price tags are visible.

Oh Sister of the Lake, quench this fire that rages through my veins!
Brother Wind  please dry these tears that come from the pain.
My soul is on fire  and I see no relieve in sight,
Mother Earth please give me a place to hide.
I have curled  up in the arms of Cousin tree,
told him of my fears and what in my dreams I see.
Nephew Robin  listened and tried  his best to calm,
yet  as I closed my eyes the fire raged on.
Oh Sister of the Lake, is there help here for me?
Let me take a breath and lay here in your arms,
perhapes with your cooling touch , perhapes the flame will be gone.

So many things I want to show her in my life.
So many places  she hasn't seen.
All the things I have taken as normal in my time.
These places for her are an odyssey.
Foods from the far and exotic lands,
Things folks now see on TV.
I have eaten these as normal  day of life,
she wants to to really see.
So many years now I have put pennies in this jar.
The jar that should  bring this to a reality.
So with this dollar I fold a little note.
"Be sure to see for for me."
Chase that lobster with no claws
right across the ocean floor.
eat civichi with the natives at night.
Drink *** and coconut from the  core.
Watch the sting rays do their mating dance,
let the howler monkeys make you laugh.
Take each step as I have done before.
Make each memory last."

Ever try and find something, something really needed?
Find **** near everything else, except what your seeking.
I needed to find a letter ,  all legal and all,
I have found  enough other things to start my own mall.
There's that old collector *******, I could have sworn was taken by my son,
I'll have to apologies to him, I got that one all wrong.
Found the deed to the land, I had to go and file a new,
hell who knows what I'll find , mabey a dollar or too. Na.
Found the long lost pacifier, well it was really hid,
man  it took along time for Brande to get over it.
I should show it to her now and see if there's still a connect,
ok , mabey not  I know how touchy pregnate women get! Smile
So finally I find the letter, man  I thought was lost.
So I'll try and see the appoinment man , hope  this letter was all.
Smile

Listen, listen with your heart and you will hear.
...................
A whisper...faint...clear.......
soon  a promise of love, a gift....soon.....
time is  drifting all so near.

Feel with your eyes ..... see the gift.....
the gift that the whisper promised to give...Smile

This is a melody in my head...want to hear it?

If we could work it out...there is no need to shout..
we are both really saying the same thing.
You dont believe...that what  is here is real..
you still say that your better of without.
I just cannot believe, after all you seen of me,
that you still stand there with your doubt.
Ok , we wont work it out..you slammed the door and went out...
another night with me here with my head.
Voices ringing on, mocking all the wrongs, taunting me to stay here
like your fool.
Fool, left all alone, wondering why I go on, just let it go and try
to find a happy end.
Yes , to be happy once again,
laughing with my friends,
being the kind of fool that I can really  get into.
Dancing on the floor, let my engines roar,
laughing in to the on coming wind.
....just a melody I had in my head. Want to hear it again?

She had arms that could hold me tight,
lips that take you to paradise.
A rock and roll heart that has to party
all the time.
She knew how to make you smile,
smart in the ways of making you
wonder why.
An expert on making the blues come around.
Some always try to get to her best side.
Think they have a chance just because she smiles.
I stand back , I know the truth.
She held me once , oh so tight,
sweat from our bodies cooling in the night.
That was before the blues rolled around.
Yes that was before ..........the blues rolled around.

Hello Walls, I am home.
No echoes from my keys,
I must still be alone.
Wow , Walls there is something different about you.
Did you change your corners? You look different, you do!
So how was your day?  Oh well that's cool.
Me? Oh I am just glad the day is through.
Have you eaten yet?Oh , well that's fine.
I'll cook myself something. No I don't mind.
Good night Walls, it's been a long day.
No , I dont' mind if you stay up. Really, it's ok.

What if I open a door and let you in?
Show you a world you'd be comfortable in.
What if what you read in those books would come true,
tell  me, what would you do?
Rose petals floating in a bathwater just for you.
Breakfast in bed waiting for you.
Tell me. Tell what would you do?
What if I showd you that a man can do right.
Work hard all day, come home at night.
See the things that you have done.
Pass compliments on each and every  one.
Listen to you as you say your piece.
Want only to hold you in a lovers sleep.
Tell me, tell what would you do?
What if..... what if I show you that all this had been done,
even after all this , I eat at a table for two....but I am only one.

There is a pillow, there on the bed.
The pillow where she used to lay her head.
The pillow we slept, dreamed  and played upon.
The pillow her breakfast in bed was placed on.
That same pillow she held tight.
The one she threw after the fight.
The one I  held after she was gone.
The one I talked to wondering what went wrong.
There is a pillow , there on my bed.
The final witness of the wrong words said.

Words  are so fragile yet powerful once touched,
whispered in the winds, needed oh so much.
Words have launched a thousand ships, spoken by men long gone.
Remembered by all who read, inscripted on granite walls.
Words seem to be unspoken when relationships slip away,
there are so many words to use...yet nothing is left to say.
We stumble on the right words to use when we try to say goodbeye,
yet all that is left to the ears is the lonesome bugle cry.
Poets around the world use words everyday,
one only has to stop and read ,  so much one has to say.
My words are just that, words on a electric page,
words that I hope, record the journey of the day.
Words...... the mind travels as the soul stays  in its safety zone,
listening for a fragile reply.
Waiting, wondering if the  words he wrote had died.

I have seen too much.
Ate too much, drank too much....
danced too much..... crawled,
cried, felt, hurt too much.
I have fought too much
Killed too much. Buried too much.
Had nightmares too much, forgot too much.
Ran, carried, jumped,sled too much.
I have been lonely too much, alone too much...
worked, spent, gave too much.
.............. I have said too much.

I close my eyes.....
see you there...
a touch of white lace.......
long , flowing hair.
I breath in.......
smell the fresh scent.....
ordinary shampoo.......
money well spent.
We move....
experience here......
nice and slow, knowledge, mature.
Each move countered, well received,
the  sheets lift from  a cooling breeze.
I feel.......
moist lips with a gentle part,
not rushing, moving over  selected parts.
I feel......
fingers guided by passion yet under control.
The nights journey is about to unfold.
I hear........
Silence...except your breath,
movement of lace,
the slip of the bedspread.
I sense......
it is my turn to return the pleasure,
to receive is one thing, to give is better.
I close my eyes......... breath in.....
Smile

Take your shoes off,  follow me to my home.
Gonna go down a red clay road,
feel it sqeeze up through your toes.
Not to worry..bucket by the porch to wash them feet.
Come on up here, get out of this heat.
That down yonder, case the need aroused,
that my friend is called an outhouse.
Think I got most of the spiders out there,
won't eat much, don't be scared.
We cleaned up a mess of rabbits yesterday.
Fried them , plenty, you will stay?
Oh, I am sorry, no running water here.
cold water comes up with that well bucket over there.
Now we stay up till a cooling breeze,
them fans will start going, if you feel the need.
Once the morning chores all get done,
we'll take you to the lake and show you some country fun.
Will swing off that rope swing that we got *******,
some folks get real fancy, diving, flipping and such.
Me I'm kind of laid back on that inter tube,
don't need alot of splashing getting into my cold brew.
So take off your shoes, follow me home.
Got good country cooking, second to none.

They laid a few men off at the factory.
Some how that pink slip avoided me.
Later I walked to my truck and closed the door.
I hung my head and thanked the Lord.
I cannot remember how this ship wrecked.
Why I am working now from check to check.
I  cannot look my family in the eyes.
They think  that that every thing is still fine.
I don't ever want a *** of gold.
Just be able to work for the bills I owe.
Have a food enough for my family to eat.
A roof over their head to sleep.
I'll work from sunlight to dark.
Been a working man since I could walk.
Tommorrow I'll go back to that factory.
I quess I'll see if Lady Luck will be riding with me.

I see the wetness glistening from your slim body.
You have been away from me too long.
My memory of your sweetness needs no egging on.
I can not wait much longer, we need to be alone.
You know just what  I hunger. You sparkle in your ways.
You know just how to control the rythem. A little  give and take.
You fit so perfect in my hand, made just for me.
Come a little closer, stop teasing me.
My lips are so close to you, your sweetness I am about to taste.
Man there is nothing on this earth like a cold beer at the end of the day!