this is the story of cedric hyde-fleet
the most un-cowboy cowboy you ever would meet
cedric was english, not british you see
but, being a cowboy was what  he wanted to be

he was from england
as i said before
never ridden a horse
and well, what's more
his image of cowboys
was of those on tv
but, being a cowboy
was what he wanted to be

he was all set to travel
and leave his home land
out to the west
but, he was allergic to sand
the dust would wreak havoc
with his pale, flaky skin
ten miles from home
was the furthest he'd been

he had a six shooter
which he'd nicknamed Old Burt
but, he didn't have bullets
they made his ears hurt
the smell of the powder
and the noise of the gun
made cedric wonder
if this would truly be fun

he needed a cream
for the chafing down there
and a specialized hat
to protect his thin hair
a brush wouldn't do
he would need a nice comb
he reacted to flannel
so he'd get shirts from rome

he'd fly out from london
head out west to a ranch
find a town just like gunsmoke
and a bar....the long branch
but, his stomach was tender
hard liquor was out
and the salt in the food
would just trouble his gout

but, cedric hyde-fleet
was determined to go
to the united states
to join a wild west show
he'd start out learning riding
how to shoot, and all that
he'd learn about cattle
he had his own hat

he was the most un-cowboy cowboy
they would have in the west
but, with his dedication
he would soon be the best
he would get all equipped
from dolce and gabbanna
his shirts and socks matched
his silk plaid bandanna

now, cedric hyde-fleet
never ever left home
never got on the horse
or got shirts made in rome
the things that he wanted
were the things that he'd seen
and he forgot about cowboys
when he first saw ....The Queen

looking out into the street

there's a line a mile long

i haven't even opened yet

there must be something wrong

the line it stretches round the block

it doesn't make much sense

i feel a riot may break out

i start getting rather tense

the phone is ringing off the hook

i amazed at things i hear

i've never had a thought like that

i tell them 'stick it in your ear

they tell me, mate, that's just the point

i tell them to go on

i'm a paint store for the colour blind

i'm not a *** salon

for days the calls keep coming

i don't know what to say

i just run a small paint shop

known as fifty shades of grey

Dignified, sturdy, solid
In all it's equine glory
The fact Mike tried to ride it
Is quite another story
Mike was set to ride the steed
Down the beach to have his lunch
When the horse grabbed Mike's shirt
And then proceeded to just munch
The horse stood nearly 16 hands
Poor Mike stood five foot two
The horse looked down upon him
Most tall children looked down too
Mike steadied it to get aboard
From the left side as he should
He got up and grabbed the bridle
All was seeming pretty good
Mike leaned down to pat it
Lost his grip and tumbled down
The horse just didn't notice
And he peed upon the ground
Mike got up and mounted
Once again upon the steed
He bucked up once and threw him
Mike thought he must be off his feed
The troop of trail ride horses
Made their way along the beach
Mikes horse went on riderless
It was now far out of reach
Mike went back to the hotel desk
Called a cab to beat them all
He was not to be outdone
Just because he'd taken one small fall
He met them at the barbeque
The horses stood out in the field
Mike would eat his lunch and then
He'd make this **** horse yield
He came with a nice apple
and some sugar as a treat
The horse just looked down at him
And stamped on both his feet
While Mike just stood there steaming
The horse ran like a shot
The others were all mounted
And poor Mike's horse was not
It joined up with the others
Leaving Mike away in back
So, he phoned once more for a taxi
And formed a new attack
He was **** bound and determined
To get upon this horse
If not to go out riding
But for a picture, why of course..
He met them at the hotel field
To get his picture just for pride
It didn't matter to him now
That he never got to ride
He'd show the photo to his friends
Of the horse he rode around
Never telling him of his great fall
And how the horse tossed him to the ground
The fact he never rode it
Mike now considered moot
For the horse stood for the photo
And then pooped in Mike's left boot

As I sat reading
one of the bards tales
the laughter within me
could not be quelled
he wrote with authority
he wrote with some wit
his words seemed to match
with the joint I just lit

As I continued
to peruse the tale
A voice from the kitchen
slightly derailed
my narrowing focus
had suddenly gone south
it seemed that I now
had cotton in my mouth

I reached for the glass
beside on the stand
intending to quench
the thirst I now had
but not taking an eye
off the page before
I clumsily knocked
the drink to the floor

I looked around
if any had seen
where was the cat
when I really need
a lackey , a scapegoat
on which to lay blame
The voice from the kitchen
called out my name

"What was that noise?"
inquired the voice
looking around
I had but one choice
Take off my socks
and sopp up the mess
down the hallway
came her footsteps

Quickly I scrubbed
and scrubbed some more
the cranberry juice
had stained the floor
suddenly there
before me appeared
the fuzzy red slippers
which I so feared

"You've stained the carpet!"
spat my angry wife
I quivered and shrank
hopefully out of sight
"I've told you before
"your not allowed."
"to sit and read stories
with liquid around."

With my head bowed
I went for the door
containing the machine
I'd used before
patiently she watched
as I cleaned the spot
removing the stain
which I had wrought

As Valentine Day is upon us now
Sending a message to our loves
Like chocolate and flowers
With pictures of white doves

Think back to 1929
And of The North Side Gang...men who
Got a different type of message
And it wasn't I Love You

It was on the North Side
Al Capone's gang took down nine
They massacred these gangsters
They crossed the prohibition line

Five years before they also
Killed the gangs leader in his shop
His front was selling flowers
Hey, it's Chicago....where's a cop?

Now eighty five years later
The gangsters aren't as bold
But, on Valentines they're still there
Running Chicago in the cold

With prices for fresh roses
Through the roof....you know the powers
Are run like gangsters years before
By the people selling FLOWERS.

The other afternoon I got a message
From a friend about my latest musing
He said he didn't understand the poem
And in fact, it was confusing
He told me how he'd read some others
And they made no sense at all
And he said, he'd fix my problem
And he gave me a number to call
As one who likes a challenge
And not one to turn away
I phoned the gifted number
That's why I'm here today

"Welcome to the Group Encounter
It's group therapy for beginners
Your problems we will fix
And will help make you all winners"
At least that's what the sign said
I felt like I was being led to slaughter
But, I told my friend that I would go
And if I say yes....I gotta!!
The room was bright and cheerful
No silly signs upon the walls
I saw nothing else of much importance
There were no chairs, just *****
Eight people came, we took attendance
Which I found funny, since no one knew
Our real names, or our problems
I stood behind a ball of blue
The leader was a man...a doctor
He said it was good to see us all
I smiled back, and gave a greeting
I remembered the silly sign out in the hall
He informed the group that at this meeting
We didn't have to say a word
I thought that wouldn't help me with my problem
But I might learn from what I heard
"My name is Bill, and I'm an addict
came a voice so soft and meek
I like ******* and thighs and *******"
"Bill, you say that every week"
For those of you new to our meeting
Bills a butcher, not a freak
He always says this as his welcome
I made a note...Bill's help..don't seek!!
"I am Julie, I'm an addict
I drink all day and through the night"
Now, we're talking..I was thinking
Here is someone who's not right
"Hello Julie"....we all answered
I was anxious for her tales of *****
But, what a downer was old Julie
She just drank milk, her tale's a ruse
Julie really didn't drink much
She just needed to get out
Her mother thought she was a loner
She's sit around the house and pout
Bill the butcher and our lactaid milkmaid
really made me wish I'd not
phoned the number from my buddy
Some magic beans...that's what I'd bought
I stood and looked upon the faces
I'll make up something for their ears
I stood and said "My name is Shecky"
"and what I'll say, will bring you tears"
"I'm an addict, a man of knowledge"
"I have to know what makes things tick"
"I know this meeting's for beginners"
"But, I am here because I'm sick"
I told them that I liked dissection
Like Bill the butcher, only more
I described a surgical procedure
And two folks ran right out the door
I smirked a bit, my act was working
I had them wrapped, intent and deep
Now into their heads, I would start working
And in I'd run, I would not creep
More tales of blood and carnage
Sent two more people on their way
The lactaid milkmaid made her exit
I thought for sure, she'd be one to stay
I talked for oh, say forty minutes
The doctor, stood, his mouth was wide
The others too, sat gobs wide open
I think a small dog would fit inside
The doctor said, our time was over
He'd pulled me over for a chat
"I think you need more than you'll get here"
"Did you really do that to a cat?"
I just grinned, I'd had some fun here
I'd not return, that much I knew
The night was not a total loss
On my exit, Bill said I could be a butcher too!!
I called my friend when I got home
I told him of the night of fun
He listened close to what I told him
And he laughed loud, at what I'd done
He told me he had learned his lesson
And my meetings tale was most amusing
From now on, he'd not dissect
And not look deep into my musings
I said my words were there to look at
To confuse your mind is not my task
But, if you like what you have read...please
click "like" or comment....that's all I ask.

While the sun is sleeping and the morning dj's too,
The radio news anchor is in to work by three
It's not because we're busy, or we're special..no, no , no
It's because the station trusts us, and besides...we have the key!!

We're on the road, at Dunkin' Donuts,
while the day olds are still fresh
We're in before the DJ's
Because we don't live like Phil Lesh

By the time the DJ's wander in
We've read more, than they will say
We've even cued up the morning intro
We know the songs they all will play

We have our room for research
Actually, two newspapers and a phone
We're not quite Walter Cronkite
But, hey...throw us a bone

The life of a radio anchor
Is not one that's all rosy
We do it 'cause we love it
It's not just because we're nosy

We get the freshest donuts, hottest coffee and the key
And did I neglect to mention, first one in gets donuts free?
The DJ's do their concerts, party hard, are full of soul
And twice a week you'll find them, down at Skippy's Pool and Bowl

We're not all like Les Nessman
Although, there is  a part of me
That would love to have a station
Like old W K R P

The life of the news anchor
Starts out daily in the dark
We dig around for stories
And make up others for a lark

We are in line for more promotions
We're the one that the boss sees
Did I mention, we get donuts
And that the boss gives us the key?

Nothing in this world is free
There is always an agenda
Even the worst hangover
Is the result of a great ******

A favour here, a kind word there
Just what is it they're hiding?
By the time that you figured that one  out
You'll find that you're the horse they're riding

They say to never look a gift horse in the mouth
you never know exactly what you'll find
you've one of two choices exactly where to look
Is it better from the front or from behind?

You'd better read the fine print
When you hammer out a deal
Especially if it's too good to be true
There's alway's something hidden
That will always wiggle out
And the thing that's getting hammered bud...is you

A low rate credit card
Six months at one percent
what is in this deal for them?
Does it seem more than  a little bent?

no strings attached
no background check, absolutely free
I don't know much about your mind
But, this just sounds wrong to me

They say to never look a gift horse in the mouth
you never know exactly what you'll find
you've one of two choices exactly where to look
Is it better from the front or from behind?

my crocuses are frozen
my hyacinths are wilted
my snow drops are still hiding
and my tulips all are stilted

my lawn is buried deeply
my door bell doesn't ring
all of these together are
signs of Canadian spring

lawn all ripped to ratshit
flyers frozen to the fence
*** holes every fifty feet
student residences to rent

icicles on my eavestrough
and the damage that they bring
all of these together are
signs of a Canadian spring.

I was dancing at a dance club
Two stepping all about
When my thumb, it found a belt loop
And I couldn't get it out

I shifted and I wiggled
I ****** my hips out front in time
I bent over and I shimmied
I was twerking on the line

Now, I ain't no Miley Cyrus
You can believe me now or not
I wasn't up there twerking
It's because my thumb was caught

I sashayed and I moseyed
And others got up too
My thumb was still encumbered
What the hell was I to do?

I was twerking like a mad man
Not knowing how, or  why
But the pain in my one digit
Just made me want to die

Maybe now I know the reason
Miley Cyrus did her dance
She wasn't up there being slutty
She had her thumb stuck in her pants

Now, I'm through with twerking
And there's is one thing that you'll find
That unlike young Miley Cyrus
You don't want to watch me from behind!!!

Remember back to long ago
When they taught us all in school
That when we heard the air raid siren
Duck and Cover was the rule

The times they are a'changing
And the rules are still the same
When you hear that air raid siren
Duck and Cover's not a game

Duck and Cover Buddy
See the flash and go to ground
Don't speak, just Duck and Cover
Duck and Cover, at the sound
It may not be a siren
It may be in your head
So, Duck and Cover buddy
Duck and Cover or you're dead

There's times in every marriage
When it's best to turn away
When silence is a virtue
It's best just not to say
Keep Quiet if it's possible
Say very little if you must
You know deep down what you have to do
Remember back and just...


Duck and Cover Buddy
See the flash and go to ground
Don't speak, just Duck and Cover
Duck and Cover, at the sound
It may not be a siren
It may be in your head
So, Duck and Cover buddy
Duck and Cover or you're dead

Questions left unanswered
Leave you open to a fight
Choose your battles wisely
No response is right
There's the ever dreaded question
Do I look fat in this?
Compared to what's no answer
The thing to do is this...


Duck and Cover Buddy
See the flash and go to ground
Don't speak, just Duck and Cover
Duck and Cover, at the sound
It may not be a siren
It may be in your head
So, Duck and Cover buddy
Duck and Cover or you're dead


Duck and Cover Buddy
See the flash and go to ground
Don't speak, just Duck and Cover
Duck and Cover, at the sound
It may not be a siren
It may be in your head
So, Duck and Cover buddy
Duck and Cover or you're dead

Out walking in the sub-zero cold
Nose hairs sticking together
**** frost visible on fences
Cheeks, feeling like untreated leather
Snow, crunching, underfoot
Eyes, watering as the wind whips
Ripping my tears from my eyes
And stealing feeling from my fingertips

Twenty minutes and I am numb
My thighs are tight and burning
Wind is howling like a banshee
Hitting full force, so I am learning
My ears are on fire beneath my toque
No snow though, too cold to form
Can't wait to get back home
And let the burning finish before I warm

Through it all, without a care
My dog is leading me around
I'm fully covered, and still I hurt
He's leaving gifts upon the ground
His pads must be frozen
His muzzle is a frozen mask
Finding the perfect spot for one last ***
Seems to be his only task

....all I can say is "I'm freezing, and this ****** owes me!!!"

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the hoard,
Of all their gifts from yesterday, they are already bored
But here they come a'shopping for they think that they need more
The hoard keeps marching on!

Geez, I'm glad I don't work retail
Geez, I'm glad I don't work retail
It would be like being in hell
I'm glad that I am home

It's boxing day at Wal-mart and the time is getting near
For people to come shopping with the ones they love so dear
By three o'clock they're fighting and their wishing for a beer
The hoard keeps marching on

(chourus)

The returns desk is not open and the crowd is getting mad
They're all returning presents that they got for mum and dad
They all are saying this year is the worst they've ever had
The hoard keeps marching on

(chorus)

The deals, they are exceptional, in fact they're really great
The things you bought for 90 bucks, today they sell for 8
If you find one that fits perfectly, you chalk it up to fate
The hoard keeps marching on.

(chorus)

I sit at home and laught about the people at the sales
And cringe and drink more alcohol when I think about their tales
Of how they fought the crowds off just to buy a box of nails
The hoard keeps marching on

(chorus)

It seems to me that Christmas now is on the twenty sixth
That the story about Jesus is no more than just a myth
My tongue is numb from drinking and I really need a kith
The hoard keeps marching on.

Glory, Glory Hallelujah
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
I'm glad that I stayed home!!