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Roll up Roll up
This will cure all your ills
Throw away the crutches
Dispose of your pills

Keep away from the tent boy
Keep back from the curtain
This is just what you need
To stop all the hurtin'

Roll up Roll up
Mind the glare of my teeth
Avoid my forked tongue
Hide from what's underneath

This elixir's a wonder
More a distraction I'd say
Takes your mind from your troubles
At least for the day

Drink a little, drink a lot
It doesn't matter much
You will soon discover
You can throw away your crutch

This potion will cure cancer
Grow new hair on your head
Help the flowers in the garden
Make you better off in bed

Roll up, Roll up
Buy a bottle maybe two
It's magic like no other
See what it can do

The idea is now planted
Is it fake or is it real?
Will it deliver on it's promise?
Is it really such a deal?

Listen to the barker
Listen to his spiel
Sounds like a politician
Now, how do you feel?

Don't look behind the curtain
You'll hate what you will find
Roll up, roll up and see
It may mess up your mind



Take a drink and you'll get bigger
Take a drink and you'll be small
Take a drink, I'll raise your taxes
To pay for my new mall

Roll up  now to the counter
Roll up here and see
That things with this much promise
Are never cheap and rarely free
It's not Christmas without Santa
Or without the jingle bells
But, in the darkness there's another
Taking children down to hell

Yin and Yang, a balance
There is darkness and there's light
Santa on the left side
And Krampus on the right

Parents watch your children
If they're on the naughty list
Because Krampus is out hunting
And these children are not missed

A myth, or dark reality
A monster from below
Did Johnny just go missing?
Or was he taken down below?

Jingle Bells, both have them
One is joyous, one is not
Santa lives where it is colder
Krampus lives where it is not

Bad children do not fear him
But soon enough, he'll find them out
With dark hair, claws and cloven hooves
They'll learn what he's about

He doesn't have a favorite
He'll take girls as well as boys
He doesn't mind the screaming
In fact, non one hears the noise

So, if a child disappears
And no one seems to care
You'll know he was a bad one
And that Krampus, well, was there
Halloween is here again
I used to love it so
But, now when it's shell out time
My face I do not show

I hide down in the basement
No light will people see
"No Candy Here" upon the door
There's nothing here from me

Ghosts and Ghouls and Spirits
Up my street they creep
But, I see them nightly
When I try to sleep

Four faces of four children
Out to trick or treat
Run down by a drunk driver
While trick or treating on my street

Seven children run down
Time....eight seventeen
Three were injured, four were killed
On that horrific Halloween

Each day for me is Halloween
Each day I hear them screaming
The worst part is that I'm awake
I don't hear them when I'm dreaming

Two who died, I knew them well
Dressed as cowboys on that night
Now they're gone, to ride the range
Their souls have taken flight

The street was closed for near two days
There were many questions asked
And in the end, nothing has changed
The answers hidden by a mask

The driver, he was plastered,
Didn't know what day it was
He's out now, paid his penance
I hope he feels a sense of loss

Myself, I cannot bear it
Every year I stay inside
I see those faces on new children
So, in my basement I will hide

No Candy Here, I'm sad to say
It hurts as much today
I still grieve for those poor children
In my own, respectful way
the wild west's still with us
it isn't gone at all
8 shot inside a high school
11 at the mall

Tombstone is no longer
Dodge City, it's now dust
But, the wild west's still with us
Believe me...in disgust

They no longer use revolvers
And have show downs in the streets
They've moved it to the school room
Where children hide beneath their seats

The press are there like vultures
The NRA cries foul
11 dead inside the mosque
But people wail and howl

They've the right to carry guns
You can't take that away
So, when you explain that to their folks
Just what do you say?

The wild west's still with us
It's a fact, that's true
It's not the same as it once was
This wild west is new

Shootings in the workplace
Shootings at the schools
Shooting in the churches
Are there any rules?

Each night the news is showing
A new shooting, it won't stop
The shooter dies a victim
And it's always death by cop

The wild west's still with us
It isn't gone at all
7 dead inside the church
11 at the mall
I need a gift for Grandad
Something that he'd like
Maybe just a book to read
He's too old to get a bike

A mystery? a bio?
A book of poetry?
It don't matter, he won't read it
But maybe, we'll just see

One with a nice title
One that makes you dig on in
Under fifty pages
A book that looks quite thin

A waste of money maybe?
But, it's for grandad not for me
A fine thing to buy others
A book of poetry
A house that needs a cleaning
Gardens that need tending
Groceries for the larder
And a fence that needs some mending

Grass is nearly one foot high
The dog, he needs a walk
He's gotten just so overweight
But, who am I to talk

Donations to deliver
Things that need be done
A tree to trim a little
But no time to have fun

It takes up all of my spare time
It almost makes me dizzy
I've been retired seven years
And I've never been so busy
From the east coast to the west
And all points in between
Exploring places unexplored
Places no one's been

Ship disasters and the railroads
The highways and the sea
The woodlands and the cities
A trip through history

Who will tell the stories?
Now the painter has passed on
Who will tell the stories?
Now the Troubador is gone

Painted ladies in the taverns
Sailors on the ships
Don Quixote on the shoreline
The words flow from his lips

Lost loves and the heartbreak
Snowfall and some wine
The circle that is  smaller
A navvie on the line

Who will tell the stories?
Now the painter has passed on
Who will tell the stories?
Now the Troubador is gone

Reading minds and pony men
A nation at its' start
A love story at sundown
Songs sung from the heart

Painting pictures in our heads
With no paint just words
Close your eyes and listen
His voice flying with the birds

Who will tell the stories?
Now the painter has passed on
Who will tell the stories?
Now the Troubador is gone
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