the quiet angry man
with all his jack in the box surprises
and his lonely heart songs
what lust consumes his dreams
what solace would end his crisis
his is a tale of two lives
his own and the one others would have him lead
his is a tale of two worlds
his own and the one he perceives
how can he reconcile his angers with
the peaceful world around him
would medications do the trick
would a woman's love
angry old man
striding slowly along the roads edge
balancing on the cusp
of his world and the next

there are monsters out there
see them on tv
people killing people
people doing unspeakable things
and they make entertainment shows
with the stories of human monsters and the terrible things they do
make epic movies about it
maybe there would be less monsters in our world
if we didn't celebrate them
if we didn't have ten shows on television about killing
if there weren't all this glorification of death
maybe we should celebrate saving lives instead of taking them
find a way to celebrate beauty not death

long day shuffling back n forth
long day of seeing nothing but clouds
with dancing free on my mind
with dancing itching my feet
i want joy
i want to feel the wind in my hair
but i got a long day here
in the hot weeds
wont you ease my headache
wont you ease my weary mind
tell me the news
tell me whats a cookin in that beautiful heart of yours
show me the way home
lets dance together in the falling rain
and see the rainbows shatter on the morning sky
wont you show me the way home
show me the way to the beautiful dreams
lets dance the summer day
lets dance moonlight in each others arms
i want joy
feel the summer wind in my hair
but i got this long hour in the the hot weeds
waiting for you to rescue me
waiting to dance

she was down in the shadows
and there was nobody there to cry to
she just wandered the cool night
with a flare for the dramatic and a vision of the wild sea
i stood there on the sandy beach
my arms full of gifts of yesterdays funeral pyre
and a head full of dreams of her
she gave me five pieces of paper
each one was written in a strangers hand
each had despair written in invisible illustration
but i couldn't leave her that way
i had to help her
no matter the cost
money is clean if the heart is pure to the intent
sweet paradise can be if your in the right state of mind
she came down to the store
and with smiles in her hand
she shook me loose from my apologies
and with a grin she started to dance
with a grin she gave up the darkness
and in the night i found my voice
and so the flames of my words found the lovin dawn
turn to the darkness no more fair child
is what i said to her
no matter the cost
dance in the light
if your heart is pure to the intent

out of season rain
falls steady on my roof
its pattern on the slate walkway is a confusion of circles
birds continue to sing
cars continue to speed by
it is only i that has ground to a halt by this
gentle downpour
rainy season isnt supposed to be here yet
so why have you clogged my day
with your wet bedraggled deluge
away with you rain
away with you

how do you feel
lost and alone at the end of your dime
someplace on the road between the here and the now
out of smokes and outa luck
barefaced to the carnival of night
the day passes slowly into the vastness of the past
hungry eyes puddled with traces of regret
for all the places you've been and think you belong
for all the treasures of the past yet to be plundered
and all the sweetness to which your heart has succumb
convinced of the need to find a home
a place to breath easy
you take a few tentative steps to the road
in hopes of finding its easier than it seems
to kickstart your old bones
and write a new tale for you to sing
how do you feel down here at the end of your last dime
finger-licking good or foretastes of gloom
waiting here for the prize you know aint comin'
waiting here for the explanation you aint buyin'
thin and looking a little like a ghost
see you on the other side