It's 2 a.m.
Time to go
Get on the road again
Shower, shave
and grab some joe
I am a workin' man

Each day
my routine
one...two...three
it is
the thing
that makes me me

A working man,
Hard workin' man
I do what must be done
I'm up each day
while it's still dark
And I'm not finished till the sun....

goes down
driving cross the land
I'm up at two
In bed by ten
I am a workin' man

I never
seem to
find the things
To love
What working
hard may bring

My truck
all loaded
Time to hit the road
the alarm
goes off
inside my head

I spend
most of
my life alone
it's me
my truck
and the road

it's 2 a.m.
it's time to go
I am a working ma
shower, shave
that cup of joe
workin' makes me who I am

Wake up every mornin'
Strap those work boots on
Alarm clock's alarmin'
Ain't no place like home
Time's already wastin'
Lord knows I want to stay
But the man is there waitin'
And I've got to have my pay

Gotta pay those taxes
Gotta pay my bills
Some folks live for workin'
I just work to live

Jimmy's got a good job
More than a decent wage
He built him a hot rod
Ain't ever seen the light of day
Yeah, he's got plenty money
Seems to have it made
Now he's got a second job
Saw him just today

Jimmy's lost his passion
Jimmy don't know his kids
Jimmy lives for workin'
Me, I work to live

I come from Alabama
Where all my kin folks fled
They left for a better life
At least that's what they said
And like a sheep I followed
Stayed within the fold
Now my life is mostly borrowed
On cards, and deeds, and notes

Need some satisfaction
I'm feelin' unfulfilled
Sick and tired of workin'
Gotta work to live

It ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Readin’ writin’ and sech lack that stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ at the factory line ever day either.
And it sher ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Grammer and other sech borin’ stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ on a factory line ever day either.
Ah sherr don’t need it to work digging
Er runnin’ sewer lahns er plummin’ pipes neither.
So, folks can jess give up on tryin’
To turn me into some kinda egghead scholar.
After all, it was good enough for my dad
To go to work, and work hard to earn a dollar.

(I)

Whose coat is this? Sure as hell isn't my coat. I ain't got no coat with this parka ****, it's *******. I ain't no furry flamin' ******. I ain't no ****** chochy Molly-May-Ze-**** chokin' down chickens and nasalin' a'sniffin' snortin' nasty-*** choch; that ain't me. That ain't me. Look at this coat– I'm like an Eskimo *****. I'm like a butch-**** bull-**** crotch-lappin' a'swimmin' laps in that guy's swimmin' pool. Who's that guy? Who owns that guy? 'Ey, anyone here the owner of this guy– guy ain't got no owner? Whose coat is this? It's nice, real nice. Bet she said, "Does it come from France? Where do I buy one?" I want to buy one, I think I need to buy **** more. I sure as hell need to buy one of these. "And I need one these too and one of them too and I need a petticoat and a tipper-tapper and a whimpratic garfielder and one of them new bartlemores, I need more of them bartlemores. I need more, more, more, more, more, more..." That ain't enough. ****'s from France. ****'s from Paris, that's romantic. You think I'm romantic? I eat hearts for dinner, I chew down nails like nuts for my midnight snack. I smoke cigarettes and spit on concrete slabs, you think that's ****? I'll show you ****. I'll show you Paris, New York City, Rome, romance you in Rome. I'll get real ******' Roman. I'll take you to the desert and make love to you. That's how a free man does a woman, and I'm a real free man. Who's ownin' this guy? It ain't you, it ain't me. I don't own you, you don't own me. I'm a free man:

I said,
"Fire and wood, fire and wood, fire and wood. It is late, it is late, it is far, far too late."

I set
fire to wood, fire to wood; feel that fire fired fresh from that firewood.

I dug the pit,
he gathered the wood,
she started the fire.

She really does make that fire start.

O' how she makes that fire burn,
O' how the wood's wrapped in white hots,
O' how they smoke their smokestacked pipes,
O' tobacco teeming teenagers, tormented by and through youth,
O' adolescence, trending topics, and forget-me-not flowers,
O' old age, Floridan coffins, and coughing  cancers,
O' writers in the mountains writing to be,
O' painters and **** bodies in studies by the sea,
O' thinkers in their mindset, mindsetting the table for dinner,
O' tables set to bursting,
O' wallets so thick,
O' community,
O' society, our social games,
O' hope,
O' peace,
O' that I may be at peace,
O' that I may be content and pray only for peace,
O' how about them true believers,
O' how about that love at first sight,
O' sandstone. My sandstone. That guy sittin' on sandstone.

That's my guy. That's my guy. I own this ****.

Is a man breathing on a mirror the sum of his breaths?
Breaths foggin' a'mistin' my view,
my view of a body and that face,
you're a body.
You're a workin' day's bell,
you're my chill in an Icelandic draft,
you're my spare in a Middle Eastern draft,
you're my pawn in chest-to-chest chess.

You've got this. You've got this. You own this ****.

And it is ****, too. I'd be set, real ******' set, with someone like you. I'll make you a woman, check this parka ****. Coat's mine. I'm a classy igloo runner, runnin' a'ragin' a'czebelskiin' meriteratin', I'll be reiteratin' your points. Check the time, it's late! It's late! ***** was in the grassy knoll turnin' trap tunes on her turntable. Would you listen to that? She sounds late to me, does she sound late to you? I like the music; I like the music. What happened to Woodstock? Where's my watergate, Nixon? Where's my generation, Ginsberg? Where's the meaning? This music's too loud! We're so profound! O' profundity!

Tell me something I didn't know, I'm craving' the new.
Give me the new while I spit on the old,
while I spit on this fine art finely art'd by and for fine artists–
******' fine artists. ******* fine artists.

(You can realize radical-realist realism but you can't be real with me?)

O' fine art!
What fine art!
Which fine artists are dead?



(II)

Looks like they're dead.

Looks like them ******* choked out all them ghettos, choked out all them rednecks, chokin' a'stranglin' by-God-oh-God straddlin' the breeders. I sure did like them babes– babes with their laughin' a'lackin' o' cynicism. They don't know the word "****."

I sure am forgetful–
I forgot that smoke doesn't dissipate,
I forgot how to smell autumn leaves,
I forgot to check the heart against the fingertips,
I forgot why my fingertips went numb,
I forgot to cue in the meaning when the sentence was complete,
I forget to complete my sentences,
I forget who you were wanting when you said, "I want you."

I got as much depth as an in-depth discussion, high hats and electropercussion have got me going. I'm goin' downtown, uptown bourgeois tricked me out, johns and yellow Hummers laid me down and cussed me out. That's not a discussion. That's not my scent scenting my towel, this breath reeks of wintry air– my fingertips went numb.

"I want you."

"Oh would you look at that moon?
Take a look at that moon.
Look at that moon with the ******' mountains.
I love that moon.
That's my moon."

I love darin' a'dusty dareelin' derailin' your dreams, whose dreams are these? They ain't my dreams– ain't no dream derailin' a'nileerad radiatiatin' some hint of joy or Jamison Scotch Liqueur. Drink that ****. That's my ****, I own that ****.
I'm sittin' on this stoop like I own this ****, like this **** owns me; I owed me. I don't own me, you owe me:

Pay up man, feet off the stoop.
Pay up man, be real with me.
Pay up man, you ever thought of a man as a man?
Pay up man, give it in.
Pay up man, give in.
Pay up man, I need you to do me a solid. Do me solid from crown-to-toe, we're toe-to-toe let's do-si-do bro-to-** I'm ready go, **, jo, ko, lo, get low… Now I'm ramblin'. You say, "Ramble in to the stoop and tell me a story."

What's a stoop– who's a stoop? That **** ain't stoop– you ain't stoop. You're stupid. You're a joke, check out the joke. Hey ladies, you seen this joke– joke ain't been seen by them ladies? I'm a joke. We ain't laughin' with you, they're laughin' at you.

O' hilarity!
Such hilarity!
What hilarious histories have passed?



(III)*

"I said I loved him once. I only loved him once."
(And how long once has been...)

I sure did like them hand-holdins,
them star-gazin' moments,
them moon phasin' nighttime nuances,
them fingertip feelin' a'findin',
them sessions o'meshin' limber legs unto steadfast *****,
heads cocked like guns toward the sky,
beyond the horizon
but well
below the belt.

Them star-gazing moments seeing stars seemin' small, I love how they gleam- gleamin' a'glarin' comparin' shine to shine, shimmerin' a glimmer shone stumblin' her way home from the bar. She's drunk. She's brilliant, brilliance of whit and wantin' a'wanderlustin' gypsy nomads- that ***** gyp'd me, no mad man would take a cerebral slam to the face lest them moving pictures are involved. Read a ******' book, it'll last longer. Kiss me on the collar bones, clavicles shone shining with slick saliva pining for my affections. You're clammerin' to feel me, clammin' up (Just feel me.) I want to run my hands through long hair and peg the nausea nervosa to the wall. The writing's on the wall:

The sun bent over so the moon could rise, chanting,
"Goodbye and good riddance,
I never wanted to shine down
on them seas o' tranquilities anyhow."*

O' what a day. What a day.

And the wind ruffles leaves and it ruffles feathers on birds eating worms in brown soil.

What a day. What a day.

And the men under the bridge gather in traitorous conversation of governments overthrown and border dissolution and poetry with meters bent out of tune.

What a day. What a day.

And the billboards are dry for all the consumers to consume, use, and review.

What a day. What a day.

And hearts break messiest when you're not looking.

What a day. What a day.

And the ego and the id and the redwood trees are talking. They're sitting **** in the marshes, bathing in the bogwater while fondling foreign fine wines and whisperin' a'veerin' conversations towards topics kept well out of hand, out of the game, nontobe racin' in races, rampant radical racists betting bets on bent, bald Bolshevik racists wagging Marxist manifestos in the bourgeois' faces, yes. Make it be. Nontobe sanity as the captain creases his pleats, pleasin' her creases and the dewdrops of sweat trailing down the small of her back– down the ridge of her spine forming solitary springs of saline saltwater in the small of her back. Aye-aye, guy's pleasin' a'makin' choices a'steerin'– government's a'veerin' a hard left into the ice.

'Berg! 'Berg!
Danger in the icy 'berg!
None too soon a 'berg!
Bound to bump a 'berg!
O' inevitably unnerving 'berg!
Authoritative 'berg!
Totalitarian 'berg!
Surveillance of *** and the sexes 'berg!
O' fatalist fetishist 'berg!
Benevolent big brother 'berg!
Homosocial socialization 'berg!
Romanticized Roman 'berg!
O' virginal mother 'berg!
City on a hill on a 'berg!
Subtly socialist 'berg!
Nongovernmental 'berg!
O' illustrious libertine 'berg!
Freedom of the people 'berg!
Water privatization 'berg!
Alcohol idolization 'berg!
O' corrupt and courageous 'berg!
Church and a stately 'berg!
Pray to your ceiling fan 'berg!
Biblically borne 'berg!
O' godly and gorgeous 'berg!
Ferocious freedom fighters launching lackluster demonstrations far too post-demonstration feeling liberty and love, la vie en rouge, revolving revolutionist ranting on revolution tangible as
an ice cold 'berg.

'Berg! 'Berg!
O' the 'berg, the ****** iceberg–
You'll be the death of me.

racism and stereotypes
I’m not chief keef but that’s that **** I don’t like
especially when I’m judged like when people say that I don’t “look right”
cause I tell I’m samoan so I’m supposed to be big and strong
and playing some stereotypical sport like football
it’s just an ethnicity, like anyone else, relax
but on a more serious note, I feel bad for the blacks
tell me why a few weeks ago, my roommate is walkin’ down on mill ave.
and he sees some girl sittin’ alone so he comes over cause he just wants to chat
but as soon as he approaches her, she gets all tense and afraid
cause she’s over here fabricating some image that he’s some kind of troublemaker, like the dude from the movie crash, you know the one with the braids?
I find that **** ludicrous
that many people out there judge off the color of someone’s skin and think they knew all of it
all of who you are and all of how you act
so you supposed to be a gangsta on the streets cause you young and you black
or the only explanation for the brotha with the beemer is he be workin’ that corner sellin’ out dime sacks from his nike knapsack or maybe he’s just one of those cats that likes to rap and occasionally slangs crack
but no, he can’t be no college educated man
he’s wearing a nike outfit and his skin is all black
and don’t even get me started on all the idiots that judge Hispanics and call ‘em wetbacks
what the hell is wrong with this world?
latinos are arguably the hardest working people around
but jose and carlos must be illegal cause they’re holding a shovel and their skin is all brown
so let’s get a group of racist ******* to push sheriff joe arpaio to introduce sb1070
good job Arizona, you’re now the most hated state in the country
cause we don’t like Mexicans cause they’re taking all the jobs that we could have had
but let’s skip the fact that they’re willing to work twice as hard for half the pay with no insurance to cover their back
how do you disrespect anyone, who’s willing to do all that?
and as we go over these issues with all the minorities
racists begin to develop a sense of hate for those that make up the majority
the white people
this girl in class may have not have been paying attention or got an easy question wrong
so let’s just whisper under our breath that she’s just another “dumb blonde”
let’s just assume that she’s daddy’s spoiled little girl cause she has a coach bag
and that she has a lotta of money, no rhythm, and above all no ***
and her daddy’s daddy’s daddy must have owned slaves back in the day
so I’mma use that against her if she ever misbehaves
and act like the majority of her people haven’t matured past that stage
and since they seem like their living well, it must be safe to assume that they were born privileged
and that they’re completely oblivious to the sufferings of other races and completely ethnocentric
*******
all these stereotypes and racist assumptions, *******
why can’t we,
live in a colorblind society,
where all races can connect without the animosity?
well, the answer is, we can, but it starts from us
stop the racism, stop the stereotypes, stop the hate, and begin to trust
in people of all colors with different mothers
like the cliché goes, don’t judge a book by its cover
so just because he ain’t a brother
that don’t mean you gotta give him the cold shoulder
so, if everyone can, I need yall to do me a favor,
I need you to love you, love him, and even love me
love her, love them, love everyone equally
and as for me? I’mma just be me
regardless of what people assume, I have the right to act freely
cause I’m not trynna be the center of attention or the definition of perfection
I’m just strivin’ to be proud of what I see in my reflection…

the allan family story, HAPPY NEW YEAR



brian allan was getting bored with what his family was doing on nye

so he went to his room and played a nye show and each song was cool

the first song was poison’s nothing but a good Now Listen
Not a dime, I can't pay my rent
I can barely make it through the week
Saturday night I'd like to make my girl
But right now I can't make ends meet

I'm always workin' slavin' every day
Gotta get a break from that same old same old
I need a chance just to get away
If you could hear me think this is what I'd say

[Chorus]
Don't need nothin' but a good time
How can I resist
Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time
And it don't get better than this

They say I spend my money on women and wine
But I couldn't tell you where I spent last night
I'm really sorry about the shape I'm in
I just like my fun every now and then

I'm always workin' slavin' every day
Gotta get a break from that same old same old
I need a chance just to get away
If you could hear me think this is what I'd say

[Chorus]

You see I raise a toast to all of us
Who are breakin' our backs every day
If wantin' the good life is such a crime
Lord, then put me away
Here's to ya

[Chorus: x3]

and brian allan who was being told by his dad and mum to quieten down decided to play

a kylie minogue song, got to be certain
"Got To Be Certain"

[1a:]
You keep on asking me
Why can't we be together
I keep saying won't you wait a while
What's all the hurry
I thought we had forever
I just need time 'til I can make up my mind

[1b:]
I'm not asking for
A love to last forever
I don't expect to get a guarantee
It's just that I believe
Lovers should stick together
I'm only saying
Won't you wait for me

[CHORUS:]
I've got to be
Got to be certain
I've got to be so sure
I've had my share of hearts broken
And I don't wanna take that any more

[2a:]
I've got some friends who say
Boys are all the same
They're only looking out for just one thing
I'm only hoping that
You won't turn out like that
I need some time 'til I can make up my mind

[2b:]
Been hurt in love before
But I still come back for more
I was such a fool
I couldn't stop myself
If you believe in me
If you want our love to be
I know you'll wait for me, oh, oh, oh, oh

[CHORUS:]

[BRIDGE:]
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh

[1b:]

[CHORUS:]
[repeat & fade]

you see brian allan was really having a ball but still he couldn’t control his loud voice

but brian allan said, he really wants to celebrate nye this day so he went to the allan’s fridge

and got a can of coke and sang this song


Another Saturday night
By: Jimmy Buffett

Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

I got in town a month ago
I've seen a lot of girls since then
If I could meet 'em I could get 'em
But as yet I haven't met 'em
That's why I'm in the shape I'm in

Oh, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

Now another fella told me
He had a sister who looked just fine
Instead of being my deliverance
She had a strange resemblance
To a cat name Frankenstein

Oh, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had some chick to talk to
I'm in an awful way

Yeah, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

It's ******* a fella
When he don't know his way around
If I don't find me a honey
To help me spend this money
I'm headin' back to key west town

Oh, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

Just another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had some chick to talk to
I'm in an awful way

It's awful, all dressed up and no place to go, no one to help me spend
My flow, another Saturday night, get me the pizza man.
Songwriters: COOKE, SAM
Another Saturday Night lyrics © Abkco Music, Inc.




and then brian allan said, i want to be convicted of love in the first degree and i will open this can of coke and party all over his bedroom and make
mr and mrs allan say stop playing this loud music brian

"Love In The First Degree"

Last night I was dreaming
I was locked in a prison cell
When I woke up I was screaming
Calling out your name (whoa)

And the judge and the jury
They all put the blame on me (the blame on me)
They wanna tell from my story
They want to hear my plea

Only you can set me free
'Cause I'm guilty (guilty)
Guilty as a girl can be
Come on baby, can't you see
I stand accused
Of love in the first degree

(Guilty) Of love in the first degree

Someday I'm believing
You will come to my rescue
Unchain my heart, you'll keep him
Let me start a new (you)

The hours passed so slowly
Since they've thrown away the key (away the key)
Can't you see that I'm lonely
Won't you help me please

Only you can set me free
'Cause I'm guilty (guilty)
Guilty as a girl can be
Come on baby, can't you see
I stand accused
Of love in the first degree

(Guilty) Of Love in the first degree

(Guilty)
Of Love

(Guilty)
Of Love in

(Guilty) Of Love

(Guilty) Of Love in

(Guilty)
Of love in the first degree

And the judge and the jury
They all put the blame on me
They wanna tell from my story
They wanna hear my plea

Only you can set me free
'Cause I'm guilty (Guilty)
As a girl can be
Come on baby, can't you see
I stand accused
Of love in the first degree


Submit Corrections

and then brian allan looked at his clock radio and saw the time was 11:45 and brian

allan played the air guitar really loudly to run to paradise



Baby, you were always gonna be the one
You only ever did it just for fun
But you run to paradise
Jenny, I'll meet you at the grocery store
You don't need a friend when you can score
You run to paradise

Johnny, we were always best of friends
Stick together and defend
But you run to paradise
And mamma, now don't you worry 'bout me anymore
And I see you crying at the door
When I run to paradise

That's right, they had it all worked out
You were young and blonde
And you could never do wrong
That's right, they were so surprised
You opened their eyes up
(Opened their eyes up)
Opened their eyes up

[Chorus]
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you don't, open your eyes up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you're no fool)
Don't tell me, this is paradise
(Open your eyes up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, open your eyes up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you're no fool)
Don't tell me, this is paradise

Good times, why'd I let 'em slip away
Why'd I let them slip away
'Cause I lived in paradise
Run to paradise
Run to paradise
Run to paradise

Jesus says it's gonna be alright
He's gonna pat my back
So I can walk in the light (that's right)
You don't mind if I abuse myself
So I can hold my head up
(Hold my head up)
Hold my head up

[Chorus]

You don't want anyone
(You don't, hold my head up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you're no fool)
Don't tell me, this is paradise
(Open your eyes up)
You don't need anyone
(Open your eyes up)
You don't need anyone
You'll tell me, this is paradise

[Chorus x2]
brian allan then was counting down to midnight and sang auld lent zine and his parents came in and opened the door and
said HAPPY NEW YEAR

By Arcassin B



Tell me,
tell me that your home safe asleep,
in your bed,
sometimes you would call me
just to come over instead,
maybe if it was settled then
me and you could hit the movies,
doing what teenagers do,
poring organic fuse,
driving those stylish cars,
doing things we can't refuse,
i swear to god i love you,
if you wasnt so beautiful i'd braid it,
knowing you,
probably hate it,
but i said it once before,
we go greatly together,
for what we have in store,
she puts all of that together,
this night was so glorious,
think i mite live another one,
promise that your social insecurities,
wont lend me none,
you made my life go astray,
like becoming a non-******,
didnt think that over anyway,
at least my cell phone still workin'.

to take out your whole crew
it only takes one call
we'll see you riding solo and
put yo **** against the wall
trigger hammer gunshot to your head watch your dead body collapse fast and fall to the floor all sprawled
paint a picture see your brain splatter
I'm going crazy like the mother ****** mad hatter
does it matter
ha I think it does
because the threats a promise on the lines made out in the plan cuz
I'll creep in and silence you
show you how the violent do
didn't you know that calm one's always  **** you (for real dude)
You walk tall with your glass jaw and your liquor
you're girl is so drugged up that's why she only sticks wit ya
you're loud and obnoxious with a
brain and breathe so toxic
far from hypnotic well over neurotic and
My only logic
is to show you how parassitic,symbiotic, pathetic, you don't get it, your read it but you're illiterate
while I spit a bit
you try to make a legitimate comeback but you slack ***** don't talk back
you lack the determination,education, dedication, it's amazing
that you even think you're on the same level
I'm a new school rebel tearing old fools like you on the heavy gettin pretty messy
I'm pushing boulders while you're pushing pebbles
you're nothing but a ***** like barney rubble
such a tragedy.... oh wait nevermind
evolution called you're just a waste of it's time
you **** too many ****** and 1,2,3
an itch and a burn oh! STD!!!
magically it came be
you're suffering
and on your knees
you're screaming please
while I end it with ease
and you don't really know who I am
assassinate, desecrate, emasculate, devistate these mother ******* need to know that I won't ever hesitate,
to put em in a black hole out of existence  
twist em up turn em up into nothingness
I'm no longer discussing this
come on be my witness
I'm bringin the apocalypse
into this low grade *****
phaze come and take the switch
before I **** em a twitch of the hand back slap come on pack clap wit ya man

Wussup, professional Latina?
Diversity been good 2 U?
Water warm enough 4 U?
Shaking down enuf rich gringos
to fund your Non-Profit?
(speak against capitalismo here)
Got time for la Revolución after your pedicure today?
(mention the border here)
still watching Oprah, Abuela?
heard from your third ex-husband recently?
Wussup consummate professional.
(turn on NPR here)
Got nail polish? Got car waxed? Got investments?
(take a networking business lunch here)
Have you streaked your hair enuf?
(mention indigenismo here)
I hope you are caring well for all the nietos
and still have time to be a tiburona
(insert italicized Spanish word here)
How are all your gente ?
(mention mujeres fuertes here)
Hey Latina - when did you move out of the barrio ?
(mention La Raza here)
Mujer Latina—wussup.
how is Gringolandia workin' out 4 U ?
(turn off Univision here)
'cause if the oppression gets too bad
you could always move back
to Venezuela
or Chihuahua
or San Juan,  or...
(mention Trump here)
...Miami?

Everybody honors Th’ Workin’ Man
With songs about the dignity of work
Poems, impassioned speeches in Congress
The latest book about worker housing

But everybody ignores that working man
Who builds the stage on which the singer sings
The plumber who makes the artist’s royal flush
The electrician who wires the elections

Everybody honors Th’ Workin’ Man -
But nobody honors a working man

Santa got us workin' in the cold,
not a single fireplace in that **** factory.

He don't even feed us:
we eats polar bear leftovers,
penguin flesh and such.

Ask for a break and get stomped
by reindeers and such.
not a day of vacation, not a one.

The houses be made o' candy
but we ain't got no dental either,
so eatin' that would **** us.

This fat white ape is a bad bad man,
lord ain't that the truth,
ol' Saint Nick is a total ****.

when he was younger, people called him a fool
and he never made it to high school
his daddy was a hard workin' man
he taught his son how to work the land
from sunrise to sunset
crops rise from blood & sweat
the only thing he could really know
was how to make things grow
until he met a woman that stole his heart
she was the bright light in the dark
she sang pretty songs that he didn't understand
she'd cook and clean while he worked the land
he wanted to learn, she planted the seed
she brought home books, taught him to read
they were happy, but not yet complete
the house was missing the sound of little feet
and storybooks and lullabies
they longed to hear a baby's cries
soon she grew heavy, baby inside
one that would be her father's pride
she grew up in a house full of love
told she could be whatever she dreamed of
we sit here now, graduation day
and i listen to the words she has to say
"my Daddy was a farmer, he loved the way things grew
and he cared for the animals, always knew what to do
he always did everything to make sure his family would survive
my Mama was a dreamer, she kept our hope alive
and gave me wings, taught me to fly
to always give thanks, never question why
and i wouldn't be here right now
if they hadn't always knew somehow
that i was destined to do something more
this is love, it's what family's for"

Come one come all

*** inside everybody

Please do

Fill yourselves and spill yourselves

Wet your dry spots with your wet spots

Don’t sweat the petty things

But please pet the sweaty things

Dance like a warped record stacked on a broken record

So you can gyrate over a Led Zeppelin ****** of

OOOHHHHYYYEEAAAH and it makes me wonder

Soak my curiosity in your nearly naked

Let’s walk away from this mutually *****

You cantankerous carnivorous man-eating jellyfish

Stumbling to engulf me in your morphine

Lying like amazing lovers do

“No

I won’t leave you in the morning

But it doesn’t mean I will ever love you

I just want you to feel me

You feel me?”

And you left at 4 am just after I passed out

Leaving me stuck with

The wings made of chain-link handcuffs and sheets

Going  from my wrists to my feet

Because you said you always wanted to make love to a butterfly

I thought I could be an angel

Or at least a stingray

So my venom might stay with you longer

But you left like I knew you would

Took the keys and I had to pretend I was wearing a white kimono

And because of the handcuff chain

I just started telling people I was the ghost

Of ***** lovers past

But you go ahead and go on back to your main attraction

I don’t mind workin’ side show

Standing like a man made *******

Pulsing at the thought of you potential

Waiting patiently like a secret

Verbal donkey show

Hollerin on the tail end of dawn

With a secret song on a broken record

When played backwards

“Don’t go”

I can't play no saxophone
but I can hear it played.
Sometimes it's a lady sighin;
sometimes it's a workin man.
But when it is an orphan cryin
I wish I could hold that child
and play.

I can't hold that child
in these ***** hands of mine.
I can't stop his cryin.
I can hear it way down here
on the sidewalks of the streets he's a child of.
Why, Lord, can I hear that saxophone
but never play?

teepee dwellers gather rounddancing flames, natures soundhappy hippies, beads and banglesvegan food but leather sandals save the earth, soap-dodgers pleadflower power, worship weedhate pollution, love the treeslove and peace, pure and free dreadlock strands, ***** handssymbolic signs from aeresol cansacrylic colours produced by manthe hairy eco paints his van van thats spews black filthy smokebalding tyres, handbrake brokesigns of peace and global gleeno wipers, tax, or m.o.t workin hippy knows the scoresummer paid by winters choremother earth their passion causeand some drive home in four by fours

Every day
I'd see them headin aff
in that clapped oot old banger.
He'd nivver get it looked at -
thocht it'd run
on positive energy and a kind word.
If that were true
my fower year apprenticeship
and six year in the garage
wouldny be worth ocht, would it?
But would he come tae me?
He would not.

There they'd go -
the exhaust gruntin lik a vexed rhinoceros
an the fan-belt scraichin lik a banshee.
Ah couldae sorted that in unner an hour.

Ah seen him workin on it wance, mind -
thocht he wis fin'ly gonny change thae bald tyres
But naw,
he wis paintin' ****** flooers on the bonnet!

Ah kin see them yet.
Headin up the hill,
weans in the back,
cloods ae black smoke pechin oot the pipe.
Ah couldae fixed it.
Ah couldae telt them.
But ah didnae.

An they nivver made it hame.

Living in this yellow box filled with aging trinkets
A lonely guy trying to get by just hasn't sealed the link yet
Bout a cup of milk left in the fridge and God forbid I drink it
A shaggy dog; that ***** hog, why can't they smell the stink yet?
The junk comes barreling through the door so fast that you can blink it
There's no more room for gloom and doom, but let's fit one more inkjet
They just got rid of dinnerware,  a silver and a pink set
So now to hoard an ancient sword, a blender and a mink set
Five garbage bags of someone's clothes, the sixth one's in the sink, wet
With lots of cans and pots and pans, we'll reach the jagged brink yet
They're trying to let go, said there ain't no space to think yet
They're workin hard to raise the bar, ain't  worked out all the kinks yet

Pressed for time and low on space
****** I need to get out of this place...

(song lyrics)
Verse 1:
Now I can’t go fishin’, ‘cuz ya’ sold my rod and reel
Can’t go snow-racin’, ‘cuz ya’ sold my snowmobile
And I got flaws - that’s for sure - and sometimes run amuck
But the final straw that I can’t take: Ya’ sold my pickup truck

Chorus:
You can burn the house, shoot my dog and stomp my ol’ guitar
But when you sold my pickup truck, well, Honey, ya’ went too far

Verse 2:
I didn’t care when ya’ bought that stuff on TV’s QVC
Or ‘cause ya’ always thought of me as your private Money Tree
Or catalog-orderin’ ever’thing from within ol’ Sears Roebuck
But I’ll be danged if I’ll sit still since ya’ sold my pickup truck!

Chorus:
You can burn the house, shoot my dog and stomp my ol’ guitar
But when you sold my pickup truck, well, Honey, ya’ went too far

Verse 3:
So I went and saw a gypsy gal, and a curse on you imposed
To put sand in your chewin' gum and runners in your ***** hose
And all your clothes and accessories to never, ever match
And chiggers in your bed sheets - so you’ll always have to scratch!

Chorus:
You can burn the house, shoot my dog and stomp my ol’ guitar
But when you sold my pickup truck, well, Honey, ya’ went too far

Verse 4:
I seen ya’ last Saturday night at Bubba’s Bar and Grill
The image of you in stripes and checks remains within me still
And them red chigger welts upon your nose and face
Tells me that the gypsy curse is workin’ ever’ place!

Chorus:
You can burn the house, shoot my dog and stomp my ol’ guitar
But when you sold my pickup truck, well, Honey, ya’ went too far

Pick a cause, any cause, and slap your receipt on your bumper.
Everyone is doing it.
Everyone needs something to be passionate about.
What's your disease?
Not a one of us has it but **** if we don't act like it.

Walk it off.
Blame federal taxes.
Blame the government.
Why not your cause?
Why not your ailment?

***' you know Johnny is going to die if we don't do something,
and Susie's just runnin' outta time.
Buy a teddy bear to show you give a ****.
Donate that extra quarter.

It all piles up somewhere.
But who, I mean who ever bothered to cure anything?
A million lab coats are workin' on your answer.
Just give em' a sec,
this stuff takes time.

In the mean time throw another buck in like your the only one.
Like this is the only problem left.
Like Santa only cares about breast cancer
or the church only cares about Alzheimers.
It's got one of their own you know.

Uncle Jim's got cancer of the liver,
where's his save the children fund?
Timmy's got cerebral palsy.
Sara's got Aspergers.
Randy has the Typhoid.

Pick a brand any brand and show you give a ****.
Like the only one who gives a **** about the only thing that matters.
Forget them, what about me?
What about my issue?
What about my family?

Does the take a penny leave a penny in the seven eleven make you feel important?
Good.
Look here, buy this pin. 10% goes to Katrina victims

And it's like you expect me not to hurt;
I mean I am the perpetrator,
but that doesn't make it any
Easier

Easier would have been everything working
All the cogs aligning, workin' properly

I almost lost it on a .gif
I almost cried from viewing something that reminded me.

I made the right choice, because the cogs are aligning on my side,
they're workin' properly
But that doesn't make this grandfather clock creak any less.

We make a livin off of hard work
Not sleeping

Say, pretty baby,
won’t you climb aboard this train with me?
Now, now, now, pretty honey.
Don’t think twice just come along.
It’s been a long time coming,
and we’re sure to be a long time gone.

When I got up this morning,
heard the whistle when the train got in.
Yeah, when I woke up this morning,
heard the train as it rolled in.
And I knew it was gonna be a good day.
I’ll pick you up quarter to ten.

Well, your daddy, he done left you.
Left you in that pourin’ rain.
And your momma, she’s no good, child.
Causes you all kinds of pain.
But me, I always been there for ya.
Come along and your heart won’t ache again.

You’re just workin’ day and night.
No friends to call your own.
Workin’ as a waitress day and night
with no friends to call your own.
Don’t you know I’ll be your friend, girl?
I’ll be whatever and you won’t have to feel alone.

Well, I see your got your dress on.
And, yes, I’ll take that as a sign.
Yeah girl I see you got your hair up.
I will take that as a sign
that we’re headed to Chicago.
I’m glad you made up your pretty mind.

Say, pretty baby,
I sure am happy you’re here with me.
O, yes little darlin’,
you made my day shine oh so bright.
Not much longer though, my baby.
We’ll get there ‘fore the end of the night.

It's complete euphony
Hearing memorable Melody's.

Remembering from the age
of five and up.

Ma' always warming my milk
with honey in the cup.

Ma' wanted best,
and showed what hard workin was!

Hard workin not slack, was the way her hands had become.

It's complete euphony, hearing her sweet talk before bed

Has it been that many years ago Ma', your sweet lullaby's said.

A hundred thousand miles
were written on his face
He'd earned near every wrinkle
Did this cowboy known as "Jace"
He'd ridden cross the country
From Death Valley up to Maine
In weather full of sunshine
To the roughest hurricane
He owned two pair of Levis
One for workin', one for church
To know how long he'd been here
You'd really have to search
"Jace" was born in Kansas
In the spring of fifty one
His parents were both teachers
And he was their only son
Kansas was a "free" state
One where slaves were free men too
Where the soldiers were militia men
Who served in Union Blue
The fighting up in Kansas
started before the civil war
They were fighting over slavery
For many years before
The first call up was in summer
Back in June of sixty one
Jace's father got his papers
And he left his wife and son
The First Kansas Regiment
Were a proud and fearsome lot
They were a tougher foe to battle
Than the South had at first thought
"Jace's" father was a Captain
In fact he had his own brigade
And he was a decorated soldier
For his dues,  this man had paid
In October of sixty four
He was riding his horse "Sleek"
When we was killed by a "grey" ******
At The Battle of Marmiton Creek
The news got home directly
"Jace" and Mother quickly left
They boarded up the house
And then, they headed for the west
With no father to guide him
Jace became the man at home
He didn't like to settle
And he would much rather roam
His mother passed...consumption
Jace was only seventeen
He was not one for mourning
If you know just what I mean
He needed work to get some cash
He left school....and could ride
And he always had his rifle
Just hanging by his side
He could shoot better than older men
And he could ride just like the wind
And even at this early age
He was leathery of skin
Jace joined in a cattle drive
Moving eastward from the west
He didn't take much time to prove
He was equal to the test
Roping, branding, riding herd
Jace was comfortable as hell
But, he rarely ever said a word
Jace would hardly ever yell
He would eat off from the main group
Always watching, keeping post
He would have his own small fire
The men would call him "ghost"
He never settled down at all
Just rode from west to east
Then turning round he'd return home
His palms had now been greased
He didn't spend much money
He kept it in a bank back home
He had a spread in Austin
And he ..yep, lived there all alone
Each time he'd run a herd across
The country he would buy
Some more land in the area
Or at least, most times he'd try
He had a man named Sancho
Worked the ranch and kept it up
and a young lad known as Felize
Followed Sancho like a pup
Jace would come and clean his rig
Never staying past a week
Then he'd be back out on the trail again
On his second horse...still "Sleek"
His jeans were crusted over
Clay and mud from all the drives
There was more age in this mans jeans
Than most cats did have lives
He beat them with a broom at home
Never ever washed them clean
He said by looking at the dirt on here
I know exactly where I've been
A grizzled old range  cowboy
With a skin as tough as hide
He was never home for very long
Always waiting for the ride
In Austin his ranch was just huge
14 thousand acres square
But, what good was a ranch that big
When he was never there
"Land is something stable"
"They can never make more land"
"But as for cold cash money"
"It's not worth a field of sand"
He died while home in Austin
Nineteen hundred twenty nine
The market crashed around him
But he said, "All this is mine"
They took him back to Kansas
To be buried at his start
He was buried near his father
And his mom, god bless her heart
He gave his land to Sanche
and gave some to Felize too
They kept it up for him so long
It was the least that he could do
He was the image of a cowboy
A loner, sagebrush in his soul
But in the end , it was family
For that's what kept him whole.