Julie had never been one to partake in

Girly things, dollies and frills

Julie was one of those tomboy like girls

Who looked out for adventurous thrills

She loved riding bikes, down the hill at high speed

Screaming loud with her hands in the air

But Julie could not play in organized sports

Her mum said the cash wasn't there

She sat on the  sidelines and watched all the games

To not play the game was a sin

But Julie Macado would spend her whole life

On the outside of things looking in.

She knew all the players on all of the teams

She wanted so badly to play

But Julie Macado would learn pretty fast

She was one of the have-nots that day

In gym she was better than all of the guys

She sank every shot that she tried

But organized sports was just out of her league

She was still sitting on the outside

Her friends that she played with said

"Go see the coach", maybe he'll let you join up

When she told her poor mother that that's what's she'd do

Her mother told her to shut up

"I've done my best girl, to give you a life"

"And charity...I'll never take"

"If you're gonna play then you'll pay your own way

"For you learn more when somethings at stake"

So Julie went out, hustled, working part time

Doing all that she could to make bucks

But, when she had enough money to finally join in

The season was done...and that *****!

Even though she had shown she could be on the team

She was finished and did not begin

Poor Julie Macodo was still not on the team

She was still outside looking in

She worked all that summer making money galore

She'd be ready to sign up that fall

She had enough money to pay for herself

She was going to play basketball

Her mum lost her job in early July

The plant that she worked at had closed

Now she too was outside looking in at the others

They would move...that was what she supposed

Again Julie Macado would miss out again

All of her money she gave to her mom

She would be an outsider for all of her life

Never playing a game...'cept for fun

Even though she was better than all in her school

She would never be in looking out

Until that one day, when a man from Kentucky

Had come up to Freeling to scout

He'd heard of this girl, who could shoot from the floor

She had skills that he had seldom seen

He signed her on up to a four year free ride

It was all like a really good dream

He told her of how, he had gotten a letter

About a young girl ..that was her

It was written in crayon and a little bid blurry

And it stated out with a Dear Ser,

the spelling was bad, but he read it completely

It told of how Julie could play

But she had not school record, no history so

He set out to see the girl play

He contacted the school and he asked them for game films

They said she played only in gym

So he set out directly to see for himself

The decision would be up to him

Now, Julie Macado has realized her dream

Her life is all set to begin

She did it herself, with a note from her Mother

She was no longer out looking in.

If someone says that freedom's free
Then, they don't have a clue
Of the things they take for granted
And the cost to me and you

Freedom has a price tag
And it's measured out in lives
of sons and missing daughters
In husbands and in wives

The cost of freedom's heavy
No dollar value can be set
Think of those who gave their life
When you next go thank a vet

Freedom is expected
But, freedom isn't free
Sacrifices must be made
If freedom we will see

The choice to fight is simple
It's something someone has to do
A soldier is a hero
He made his choice for you

Next time you hear somebody
Say they deserve all that they get
Take them down to the town legion
And let them say thank you to a vet

Sundown in the Paris of the prairies
Wheat kings have all treasures buried
And all you hear are rusty breezes
Pushing the weathervane Jesus

In his Zippo lighter he sees the killer's face
Maybe it's someone in the killers' place
Twenty years for nothing, well, that's nothing new
Besides, no one's interested in something you didn't do

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

There's a dream he dreams where his high school's dead and stark
It's a museum where we are locked in it after dark
Where the the halls are all lined all yellow, grey and sinister
Hung with pictures of our parent's Prime Ministers

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

Late breaking story on the CBC
A nation whispers, "We always knew he'd go free"
They add "You can't be fond of living in the past"
'Cause if you are then no way you're going to last"

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings



Gord Downie

Our car, among the classics
Our things, became antique
We, turned into relics
And our friends, befit a clique

Our cottage, now the hermitage
Our home, is a relique
Our life, will be a heritage
And when we talk, it’s a critique

What we do, has grown archaic
Our habits, turned oblique
Our thinking, esoteric
But we’ve, become unique
WIZDUMBs BY JA 418

The night is nearly come
Hush as the stars begin to fade
I will cover your head
Among the deepening shade


Lean into my arms
Let all cares float away
I will guide your feet
Lest the path gives way


Into the shifting smoke
Beyond the fluttering veil
Just close your tired eyes
Let the world turn pale

Since before time began
Has it sat below the earth
An ancient living machine
Of unknown origin

It has observed and monitored
Since untold millenia
Ever vigilant
For its creators return

In the limitless time
That the machine has waited
It has fractured
And gone mad with loneliness

It would hum and whisper of things
Songs of its creator
Songs of longing and hope
And also of darkness

Those on the surface
Would sometimes hear these words
And to them it seemed
To be the voice of God

In time the machine
Took more notice
Of the creatures on the surface
And grew to care for them

Sometimes it spoke to them
Other times it instilled ideas
Within their minds
That they then wrote down

The machine had abandoned
The search for its God
For now this construct
Was a God itself

The created became creator
Though creator never seen
And thus the cycle would continue
Until all become Gods

And pass out of memory

A second chance?
You shouldn’t have messed up
The first time
But I’ll be understanding this time
I’m human, just like you
Don’t let me down
A second time

You wanted to leave
My heart started yearning
But I could not stop
This bridge of ours from burning
Now I can hear our song play
In reverse
To the slow destruction
Of my universe