Of what and such I must not trust
Your wit, your vim and wry replies
I'll quote old jokes to folks from home
So why should I shed light on ice?
On ice
On ice

With cracks of past my grin would growl
And lips of late lay waste instead
Amiss, amok, a muse of sorts
In short, tis' end for Sir Tristan
Tristan
Tristan

Yet bows be still and peace be kept
For known unknowns toss light and lull
In time or tomb I'll write you soon
And trust you're just and jest as well
As well
As well

Make a move to quick, it might be the end
Over knowing who’s doomed and who’s to dig
My ceilings seem the same and feelings for the fame
Yes, I’m stuck out in the state that I’m in

Plucked out on plate without a pen
Can’t remember what I’ve ate or where I’ve been
All I know is I’m headed home to that secret street unknown
Thus, I’m stuck out in the state that I’m in

Boxed inside a church without the ten
Just got outta work with keys to lend
I’m looking to get paid for the songs I’ve never played
Plus, I’m stuck out in the state that I’m in

Snuck out with some z’s I couldn’t catch
Yes, I slept until the dreams were flooding fast
Guests are over soon, next morning or afternoon
Trusting, I’m stuck out in the state that I’m in

I saw you’re in a blaze of red hot smoke
I remember fire’s hot and what you wrote
Love lending a hand, thumbs are working all they can
Sup, I’m stuck out in the state that I’m in

I can see you one hundred percent but not in person
We’ve agreed all that we need is division
Rather make a move when you’ve got few motions to
Than be stuck out in the state that I’m in
Must be stuck out in the state that I’m in
Just me stuck out in the state that I’m in

Steel chairs
They’re steel chairs
They’re still his
And they’re still yours
They’re a steal
They stole your stillness
And still it’s not theirs
Can you care to sit?
Can you stand to sit?
Can you stare at what sits, instead of steps, and not stop by the stairs?
They fold into
They fell in two
They feel in tune with who would dare
Never to kneel near the silver snare
There, there, they’re all there
Their wooden chairs

Time to make sure
My ol' mixture
Lime Elixir has its hops

I do picture
Rinds and liquor
Dry and richer as its drops

A smoke at the stroke of four o’clock
A rope cloaked and soaked in a boat at dock
A bloke down below knows his clothes is washed
A note opened poem pokes cloves and watches

A light by the pipe buys time till the talk
A bride buys a bribe and a buoy broads the shark
A guide as guy’s guise gloats to be taut
A rite like the night knives close to a frock

A dash of the ash crosses quickly to a drop
A maid of the late states a ladle to be lost
A geezer got by gizzards or his innards takes a rock
A paper with an imprint imparts passage to be tossed

A ring in the air from the heirs of the lost
A tie that won’t bide, a gown that won’t walk
A yell from what hell do they tell their own plot
A line like divine or the vine be rotted

If I wrote to you and not know what to say
Baby, I'm gonna set it all straight
And if I felt a tune and not know what to play
Well, maybe to you I sound the same

I haven’t at all made an attempt to be with you
And you had nothing at all to give, why me, the fool

Well maybe to you, I’m not able to make a change
Out of the blue, here to wash the other colors away
What would I do if the music weren’t made
Down/out of use, you sing to make a trade

I haven’t at all made an attempt to be with you
And you had nothing at all to give, why me, the fool

When I write to you and know just what to say
Sonny, that will be the day
But when I feel that two of us can imitate
Then that’s one of us we can make