you can take all your aeroplanes
dump 'em all in the deep blue sea
said you can take all them aeroplanes
dump 'em all in the deep blue sea
say, i don't need no plane to fly me
i got my own smooth pair of wings

you can take all your automobiles
park 'em all in a big green field
said you can take all them automobiles
park 'em all in a big green field
say, i don't need no car to drive me
i got my own cool set of wheels

you can take all of your trains
and run 'em off the track
said you can take all of them trains
just run 'em right off the track
don't need no locomotive engine
i got the blues, i'll blow my stack
(better get back)

I worked for a woman,
She wasn't mean--
But she had a twelve-room
House to clean.

Had to get breakfast,
Dinner, and supper, too--
Then take care of her children
When I got through.

Wash, iron, and scrub,
Walk the dog around--
It was too much,
Nearly broke me down.

I said, Madam,
Can it be
You trying to make a
Pack-horse out of me?

She opened her mouth.
She cried, Oh, no!
You know, Alberta,
I love you so!

I said, Madam,
That may be true--
But I'll be dogged
If I love you!

I'm standing in a massacre
the sky is streaked with red,
we took the hill, we won the day,
but most of us are dead.

We fought to save each other's lives;
We fought for mom  and dad;
now all of that's been blown away,
I'm weary now and sad.

The bankers took the houses
and Wall Street still stands tall;
we only took this ****** hill
that matters not at all.

I've been a soldier all my lives:
Shiloh to Vietnam,
from Valley Forge to Gettysburg
to bleak Afganistan.

But I am through with fighting now
these wars for gold and oil;
I'm falling back, I'm headed home,
to win my native soil.

You politicians better fly,
you bankers run away;
For I am home and angry
and that's how I'm going to stay.

You've never seen a battle,
You've never smelled the dead;
you shipped us off like cattle
to do the work instead.

Take back my broken medals,
Take back your shining lie,
for Armageddon's coming
and it's time for you to die.

I'm standing in a massacre,
the sky is streaked with red
we took the hill, we won the day,
but most of us are dead.

The bugles all are silent
as the night begins to fall,
but the living have a purpose
to go home and **** you all.

The mix and match of minds at hand with attitudes diverse
compel me to make comment that some may find adverse,
Some may find a reason to launch to fierce attack
Whilst others choose to spectate sipping beer and sitting back.

It seems we have proponents of a new unsubtle mix
Who breeze in with their verbal fangs and talons fiercely fixed,
Who at the slightest pretext take offence and go to war
Leaving innocence astounded, open mouthed, upon the floor.

Some here  can handle criticism, others clearly can't
And some perceive this helpful and others simply shan't,
But our greatest single asset is this freedom flow of words
where opinions and convictions are divested and diverged,
Where compliments and attitudes should be taken in our stride
And barking, fierce rejoiners must, perhaps... remain outside.

Ruffled feathers agitate but few intend offence
Interpretations differ... but in truth, with common sense,
Accommodation can be made without hot anger's flame
So let's bury the invective and get on with Shakespeare's game.

M.

I lick the sores in my mouth, the toxins running out. It feels like it's been ages since I've eaten. Living off long gone love. Sitting in praise and worship, feeling the weight of a God I need. I'll come crashing to my knees. For now I'll sit in my seat. It's not jiving. You make me laugh, with how uncertain you are of yourself. This red carpet beneath my feet, keeps me alive. The ghost of something holy, so tangible. In his arms, ghosts can love...

Tennessee Coal and Iron
Ensley Works , Birmingham , Alabama
Ensley Highlands , 30th Street

A turn of the century wood
framed house , sitting high on top a hill
Sitting on the front porch swing
in the sweltering August evening air

Playing "Your car next" , as cars ran
up and down the hill
Swapping turns , who gets what , laughing
at some of the outrageous wheels

Then as darkness descends
the dark skyline turns to Hell
Jets of forced blast air hits molten iron
and the gush of flames shoot high into the air

Eleven , twelve , maybe more
all the blast furnaces roared
as sparks flew up into the smoke
Surely these are the Devil's works
Where men are tortured so

As this for a backdrop now
it was time for ghost stories galore
Headless people and black drabbed ghouls
and little girls dripping wet that drowned in some unforgiving lake

We would draw up knees to our chest
in spite of the oppressive heat
And I would jump every time the breeze
would rustle the hidden leaves

So scared were we as bedtime neared
we'd ask mother if we could
spend "the night with you"
Ha ha ha , she replied , "NO !"
And then she went
Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo !