Life is made of moments
Some might be just a blip
But the whole sum of these moments
Make living life a trip
The big things rule
So some would say
But, not me, oh not me
It's the blips and all the little things
The things I want to see
I need all of the little things
To make my day seem right
I need to hear a snoring sound
When I turn out the light
Having kids is bigger stuff
Than I can list on here
It's little things that I will miss
When my loved one is not near
Like now, I miss the little things
That were part of my routine
With Titan gone and just us two
There's always more poutine
We order less when we go out
there's no one waiting at the stairs
It's nothing but, a little thing
That we miss now he's not there
A simple touch, a friendly word
An irritant at times
But, in life I miss the little things
They make life's mountain worth the climb
Missing friends, their silly jokes
You've heard a hundred times or more
These are just the little things
That I am waiting for
I miss them all, these little things
No matter , just how small
They make my life a treasure
And you know I miss them all
A word, a song, a photograph
A memory it brings
I think of all the larger stuff
But, I miss the little things....

Today I got the "look"
You men know the "look"
Well, today I got it
And it wasn't from my wife
It was a scary "look"

When my wife gives me the "look"
I sit down, and shut up real fast
You can't win against the look
I know...I've tried
I lost...to the "look"
today I got it from a stranger

My wife is good with the "look"
A real professional
I'm sure there are days, I'm sure of this
That my neighbor sits down
And shuts up, in sympathy...
He knows someone is getting the "look"
He doesn't know who...but he sits down

today, I said something at work
And I got the "look"
I wasn't scared though
It wasn't my wife, what could happen?
I found out what could happen
Two more women....and a stronger look
Not as good as my wife though
But....I was looking for a chair in case

I've tried giving the "look"
Doesn't work....my wife laughs
says I look constipated
I can't do the "look"
I thought I had the "look" once
they called an ambulance
by the time I explained the "look" to the nurses
I was getting the "look" from the nurses
I gave up trying

they sent me home....by bus
they said I didn't deserve a cab
they called my wife....I sat down
I know she was giving me the "look" over the phone
She's good
I got the bus....sat down...tried to stand
Couldn't....I was still getting the "look"
Didn't see it...didn't have to...but I sat down
She is good!!

Last word of advice about the "look"
Don't argue....don't dare speak
and don't make eye contact....
you'll end up sitting down right there
You may *** yourself, and you may
Just admit to something you didn't do
That will get you another "look"
Just be smart...sit down and shut up
Wait an hour, and try to stand
If you can...you're safe
Beware the "look"
The most dangerous weapon in your woman's arsenal....

Martin Luther had a dream
Geronimo had visions
People use all sorts of ways
To come to their decisions

Tea leaf readers in a cup
A Psychic with some cards
Looking at a twirling disc
And dancing in the yard

Decision making's easy
If you have the correct tool
You may get the right answer
Or you may end up a fool

Shaman in a sweat lodge
Chew peyote just to see
What the others can not visualize
But what comes easy to folks like me

Some roll dice, and others bones
To get the answer that they need
Others ask the dead to help
To get their answer freed

I myself use none of these
None of these at all
I sit down with a bourbon
And my old Magic Black 8-ball

I switched the little answer ball
It has answers....only two
One is just the one word "dude"
And "what would Keith Richards do?"

"Dude" is universal
It has helped me win not lose
Because it's meaning changes
Depending on the "u"'s

Say it with one U...dude
it means don't even think it
But add eight more and make it duuuuuuuuude
And there's no question you should drink it

The other answer's simple
What would good old Keefy do?
If it didn't **** old Keefy
It won't **** me and you

So, use your magic mushrooms
Dance with spirits in the hall
But I'll make my decisions
With my plastic, black eight ball

I love you
I want you
I need you

Words that work together
Like words, such as these
Are special words to people
Because they come in threes

Other words that fit this rule
Let me see or Let me think
To some are as important
As come on in, have a drink

But at this time of Christmas
There are words that need to live
Words like Feed The Hungry
and ...oh yeah...Can you give

Now, you know how my mind works
And you know...I have concluded
But at Christmas time, my big three
are BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED !!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE AND HAPPY 2013

Looking out at the world before him
Scanning people on the fly
John Jenkins watched as they passed his building
All in a hurry, but why?

He'd sit feeding pigeons when the weather was nice
With seed brought from the local Bodega
For two bucks a week, he'd keep them all fed
With a bag bought from Jose Montega

Each day he would watch, as the people ran by
Never stopping to watch as they passed
This man in the shadows, feeding the birds
And each day, he would watch the same cast

The birds never wavered as the people ran on
Never concerned with their lives, just with John
You could shoot off a gun, and not one would fly
Although, you would expect them all gone

He'd sat here for years, since he retired way back
No one saw him as he sat with the birds
He would say "hi" as the people went by
But, I'm sure no one heard the words

He was passed off as crazy, just a loon on a bench
He's a fixture that no one can see
And except for the birds and the Bodega's Jose
I would sit here and say I agree

One morning, downstairs, as the people passed by
John got up and went up to his place
The birds never left, they just waddled around
And the people went on with their race

The next morning, no John, no one down with the birds
He had died in his sleep in the night
But, the people passed by, never noticed him gone
And the birds, waddled round from their flight

He left nary a mark on the world he had left
He was mad, they said, but that was okay
And the people passed by, and the birds were still fed
By the new man on the bench called Jose.

It was a hot summer night
Nearly ninety, I'd say
When out back of Giovannis
The Bluesman sat down to play

He pulled up his crate
Took a sip from his flask
"This here's my med-cin"
"In case someone happens to ask"

He started a story
That we'd never heard
We're the folks of the street
And we followed each word

It's a tale of James Withers
A man in need of a hand
But to us on the street
He was the Sand Castle Man

The bluesman strummed gently
He didn't want the words to be lost
For this was a story
That had a hell of a cost

You see, James the sand man
Lost a life to the sea
His grandson, young James
Drowned when he was just three

Each day James went down
With his grandson in tow
They'd make castles together
Some fast and some slow

One day the pair
Were  at the end of the pier
When a rogue wave hit hard
And took what James held most dear

His grandson...swept out
Lost at sea, never found
They searched for three weeks
But the poor boy was drowned

James kept a vigil
Every day on the beach
He'd look out on the water
His heart out of reach

He kept making sand castles
As he did with young James
With shells and old driftwood
And he gave them all names

He'd have non-existent armies
Fight non existent wars
In his hard packed sand castles
He carved windows and doors

There was make believe dragons
In pools by the sea
Guarding make believe princesses
Who no one could see

There were turrets and moats
And each day he'd build one
To be lost to the tide
As the days work was done

Each day a new castle
Each day a new war
But, nobody knew
What he was building them for

The tide would come in
And would sweep it away
All that hard work
Gone at the end of the day

But, each morning he'd come
Build one more for the tide
With invisible armies
To flow away for a ride

People would watch him
Make the castles of sand
With imaginary soldiers
In imaginary lands

The bluesman sang soft
Took a sip once again
From the flask on his hip
It's just medi-cin

The crowd didn't stir
We were like moths to the flame
As we heard the bluesman
finish his tale about James

I asked him one morning
If he ever would end
Building castles of sand
He said, Bluesman, my friend

I know that each castle
Will be washed out to see
And I hope that my grandson
Gets a message from me

I make each sand castle
Like we both used to do
I come back every day
And start another anew

It helps with the closure
I send my soul to the sea
And I hope that my grandson
Knows they're for him made by me

He finished and thanked us
And we went on our way
All of us changed some
From what the bluesman did play

Next time I'm out wandering
And see the castles of sand
I'll know what he's building
Now...that I understand

A man known as "The Master"
came to speak to our small town
He was revered as a wise man
And he always dressed in brown
He answered every question
Though his answers did confuse
He was more of a rainmaker
A charlatan, a ruse
For twenty bucks he'd let you in
To hear him speak about the world
His hair, was just a birds nest
And his beard was braided, twirled
I went to see this magii
Find out answers about life
I asked him if he knew the truth
He said, "I see you've met my wife"
I asked him what his answer meant
He said "she always asks me the same thing"
"like, when I've lost the rent"
"Master, all I want to know
Can true happiness come to man"
"If you've money, ***** and three drunk broads"
"Then son, I'd say you can"
"Master, that's not what I mean"
"Then, just why did you ask?"
"I didn't mean that happiness"
He took a sip from his small flask
I sat and looked about me
At the crowd around his feet
I was more confused than ever
And was getting dizzy from the heat
Another man stepped forward asking
"Master, tell us about love"
"didn't you read about the broads
"About thirteen lines above"
"Love..it is confusing"
"It's always different every day"
"If you want love that never changes"
"Then my boy, you'll have to pay"
"I'm not sure that's what I need"
"To hear, Is it the truth?"
"I see you've met my wife as well"
"A big girl, red head...Ruth"
"No master, I just need to know"
"Before I choose a bride"
"Well, make sure you can see the tv"
"When she's lying on her side"
"Always mark the ***** bottle"
"Just in case...you know..me thinks"
"That way, you can always prove to her"
"That you haven't had three drinks"
"Master, this is way off base"
"I think you are a fraud"
"Young man, I know of what I speak"
"I see that you don't have a broad"
He too, sat down, head spinning
The master was confusing as all hell
But, we all sat here in his presence
Under this strange man's spirit spell
"Master, I have one more thing"
"I must know before I leave"
He said" it's two doors down and to the right"
As he wiped his nose upon his sleeve
"No, not that, I don't need that"
"I just need to know what's real"
"Do I believe in all around me?
"Do I believe in what I feel?"
"Christ", he said,"you are a pain"
"I can't answer things like that"
"I just know, who won last nights game"
"Do these pants make me look fat?
"You speak to me of truth and love"
"I know of  broads and trucks"
"The only truth I know is that"
"You've wasted twenty bucks"
"Master, you're a ripoff, sir"
"I guess this is a lesson in my life"
"You really do not know the truth"
"Are you sure you've not met my wife?"......

The Master Corporal said to me
"I'm gonna do a show"
"Don't worry what I say to you"
"I just thought you should know"

Injured, badly two weeks gone
I was set to be held back
My knee was torn apart and
that, was not something I could hack

The day I was demoted
My Master Corporal came to me
He said "Turner, I hate to do this"
"But, it's for the best...you'll see"

I waited for inspection
With the others all on line
They were standing at attention
Me on crutches the whole time

"Turner, is there anything"
"That I should hate to find"
"Is there stuff inside your locker"
"of a non-military kind"

I stood there at attention
Waiting for the end to come
As he looked all through my kitting
Found dust upon my gun

He opened up the locker
And a moth came flying out
It flew past the Master Corporal
And then it danced upon his snout

The yell...was heard in England
"A pet...you've got a pet"
"Who said that you could have one?"
"It's not allowed...A PET"

The moth found the first window
flew back towards him once again
Left some moth dust on his beret
And he flew away right then

The Master Corporal's outrage
At being "mothed" by my new pet
Was one I don't think many
In our platoon would soon forget

He started throwing clothing
Chucking boots around the room
I knew it was all acting
But, those boots can really zoom

When finished he stood waiting
For a response, I stood and stared
I could not break out a smile
I had to show I didn't care

He moved on through the others
Looking for more moths on the way
But, that first one and it's face dance
Well, it surely made my day

He drove me to my barracks
Up to my new platoon
"I hope you liked my show today"
" I know I'll see you soon"

"Just do what you are ordered"
"And one thing don't forget"
"When you next have an inspection"
"Don't have an insect for a pet!!"

I remember fondly that last visit
He knew it hurt for me to leave
But, every word in here is truthful
You can choose to not or to believe.

The big day was a week away
The streets were being swept
Folding stands erected
Where homeless, last week slept

To make a good impression
The Mayor told one and all
To step up and take note
To answer his loud call

We must show the whole country
We are the best at what we do
We have to show the country
The best side of me and you

This meant weeks before this
The police were out in force
Removing the imperfections
Both on foot and out on horse

A cleansing of the city
Make it nice for all to see
It brings up bitter memories
At least it does to me

It happened back in Europe
A little corporal took command
He did his little cleansing
With his little **** band

The town had hung up bunting
Like the banners in Berlin
being homeless is a problem
It's not where a cleansing should begin

The mayor had plans for plenty
Marching bands and lots of press
He'd only answer pre-set questions
In case it all became a mess

He had to have it perfect
It was his first parade you know,
the streets were freshly steam cleaned
There was nothing he didn't want to show

The displaced folks all huddled
Down in the park, a mile back
Veterans and soldiers
Whites, Hispanics, and some black

Their town was in transition
They were the cities hidden sore
They would never be accepted
Never let inside a door

The Mayor stood on the dais
Waved and smiled as folks went by
It was a town of smoke and mirrors
He showed the world a great big lie

Like the small Austrian corporal
who refused to change and would not bend
The Mayor lied to his country
It was the beginning of his end

There's a meadow past the village
On a hill...where magic swarms
You can see it on a summer night
When the clouds predict the storms
Life from time eternal
Starts appearing in the field
Gnomes and bluebell fairies
and the magic that they yield

You can see them from the village
Dancing in the moonlights glow
You can see the lightning jumping
You can see the ebb and flow
The pixies and the fairies
Folk who are part of their own world
Light up the distant meadow
As the magic is unfurled

Daisies and soft bluebells
fill the meadow in the sun
there is clover and some dragonflies
And young children having fun
The magic folk are hiding
Lights are hid, and tucked away
Until the humans in their world
Pack to end the day

It's then, from down the village
That the meadow lights begin
Where the magic lights the sky up
In the early gloaming din
If a human breaks the borders
Coming out and much too near
The lights go dark...and silent
For the magic world has ears

There are sentries in the meadow
All unseen to you
That alert the makers of the lights
When the humans are in view
there is magic in the meadow
magic lanterns are set free
where the world becomes a canvas
Of dancing lights for all to see

The mist hung heavy in the air
Touching lightly on marsh grasses
It was almost like a London fog
And as thick as cold molasses

Beneath the mist in hiding
Decomposing in the night
Were the results of one more battle
Awaiting dawns early light

The Union and The Rebels
Fighting for what they believe
And soon, these victims kin folk
Will learn their fate and will then grieve

Cannon, gun and bayonet
Were the weapons for the ****
You couldn't see the bodies
Through the mist from on the hill

Amongst the dead one soldier
Died from a shot that came behind
His head was gaping open
He was shot by his own kind

The armies both died facing
The direction of attack
Except for this one soldier
Who was taken from the back

A coward's lot is hellfire
And so it will be for Will May
He was shot by his own brother
As he turned and ran away

The mist hung heavy in the air
Touching lightly on marsh grasses
It was almost like a London fog
And as thick as cold molasses

Of all the places
I have been
This is the strangest
That I've seen

It is called
The mixed up zoo
where the animals
Just will not do
Exactly what they're supposed to do
That's why it's called the mixed up zoo

Imagine lions in a tree
Not where they're supposed to be
A giraffe who is afraid of heigts
And bats who will not fly at night

I saw a goat who did not bleat
And then I saw a wool less sheep
A zebra who was blue and green
The strangest place I've ever been

I saw a duck who did not quack
I even met a talking yak
A turkey who could really fly
A hyena who would  only cry

Geese that croaked like giant frogs
And chickens who would bark like dogs
Elephants with ears so small
You would think they couldn't hear at all

I saw a horse who would not run
In all the day was really fun
Monkeys who could really sing
A snake who bounced just like a spring

It really was a crazy place
I laughed so much I hurt my face
If there is one thing you must do
Come and see the mixed up zoo

We're fighting a great battle
No one knows how long for
We've lost a lot already
We're gonna lose lots more

Washing hands, and distance
Help when you not home
But, you must beware the monster
When your'e by yourself, alone

It watches in the daytime
It just teases in the light
But, watch out in the darkness
The monster comes at night

It attacks you when you're sleeping
By blocking off your air
It attacks just like a ninja
You cough, and bam...it's there

You can't find a position
On your left side or your right
You're senses are alerted
The monster comes at night

You walk around dead tired
Sleep in pockets you can grasp
Asleep, easily waking
One cough leads to a gasp

No one there to help you
Your'e stuck home all alone
Watching reruns on the telly
Playing card games on the phone

Like a good old elm street nightmare
your eyes don't close too tight
You know, you may not wake up
Because The monster comes at night

Be careful when you're sleeping
Sleep leaning or upright
For you may not see tomorrow
Because the monster comes at night.

There was no one at the funeral
No one there to say goodbye
It took them two whole weeks to find him
No one knew that he had died

Set out in the countryside
A farm with lots of land
He died there in his easy chair
It was just, but not as planned

We grew up there with no neighbors
Just a dad and his three girls
No one heard our screaming
In our pinies and our curls

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

It's my task to clean out the house
To get rid of all that's here
There's memories in every room
And nightmares too, I fear

The scent of Borkhum Riff
Still hangs lightly in the air
I remember it as he lay down
It was in his clothes and hair

I can smell his after shave cologne
In the living room, it lingers
I remember lying silent
As he probed me with his fingers

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

Boxes of old memories
To discard of and move out
I don't want to take them with me
Not with the memories about

My bedroom, like the others
Sits unchanged through out the years
There isn't many smiles there
Just dirt amongst the tears

I wonder as I go outside
To get a break from all the smells
I know he's not in heaven
My daddy's down in hell

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

As time goes by know what I
Must do with this old place
I must obliterate it from my mind
And build a new house in it's place

Five miles from the closest farm
All alone with none around
I can free myself form the nightmare
If I burn it to the ground

I call up both my sisters
Knowing what he did to me
He wouldn't be selective
He did it to all three

THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?

Through arguments and logic
I lay out to them my plan
They tell me they will come home
They'll be there when they can

The day arrives as do the girls
We start the plan out in the patch
We've each one can of gasoline
And we each have just one match

The house burns rather quickly
Oily smoke it fills the air
The only thing that's missing
Is that the monster isn't there.

'TWAS THE MORNING OF CHRISTMAS
AND THE WORLD WAS CONCERNED
NO GIFTS WERE DELIVERED
WE WOKE UP AND LERARNED
WHAT HAPPENED TO SANTA?
WHY DID HE NOT COME
THE PARENTS WERE WORRIED
THEY WERE FEELING QUITE GLUM
HE'D NEVER FORGET US
ON PURPOSE, THEY SAID
PERHAPS SOMETHINGS HAPPENED
PERHAPS SANTAS DEAD
THIS SURE COULDN'T HAPPEN
OUR DEAR SANTA DIE
WHEN THE WORLDS CHILDREN HEARD THIS
THEY ALL STARTED TO CRY
ALL THIS WATER IS RISING
AND IT'S GETTING QUITE HIGH
THEY SAT AND THEY THOUGHT
THAT THERE MUST BE A REASON
THAT ST. NICK PASSED US BY
DURING THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON
PERHAPS WE'VE FORGOTTEN
WHAT CHIRSTMAS IS FOR
IT'S FOR LOVING EACH OTHER
NOT JUST SHOPPING IN STORES
PERHAPS SANTA THOUGHT
THAT THE WORLD HAD GONE BAD
WE MUST ALL HEAD OUT NORTHWARD
TO THE POLE WE MUST GO
WE;LL TELL WE'RE SORRY
HEL'LL BELIEVE US , I KNOW
WE'LL HEAD OUT DIRECTLY
BEFORE THIS DAY ENDS
WE;LL HEAD OUT TOGETHER
AND WE'LL MAKE OUR AMENDS
IT TOOK 14 HOURS TOGET TO HIS HOUSE
WE KNOCKED ON THE DOOR
AND WE SPOKE TO HIS SPOUSE
WE TOLD HER WE'RE SORRY
AND WE'LL TRY TO BE GOOD
WHEN BEHIND HER CAME SANTA
HE WAS DRESSED WITH A HOOD
HE SAID "THANK YOU FOR COMING"
"I COMMITTED THE SIN..."
"MY ALARM CLOCK IS BROKEN...
"AND I GUESS I SLEPT IN!"

I was gonna write a classic
One that everyone would sing
I've got myself the music
But, the words I couldn't bring
The music it comes flowing
The words they are a miss
I've got nothing for the music
And the music sounds like this...


solo

I need words to fit the  music
words aren't flowing my my lips
There's some magic in the music
It puts movement in your hips
The words just aren't forthcoming
But the music surely is
Do you want to hear the music
Because the music goes like this...

solo

The music gets you dancing
It puts rhythm in your hips
Words...oh hell, who needs 'em
When the music goes like this....

solo play out

The music may have died for some
That day in nineteen fifty nine
Don McLean said that it ended
But I say, it's just fine

The day that Buddy died
I feel it only took a wound
and though it has been 60 years
I think it's been re-tuned

If silence reigned when the music died
The Beatles would be missing
They picked their  name for Buddy's group
An act that had some hissing

The Rolling Stones...would never play
If the music died as told
There would be no Exile on Main Street
There would be no band so bold

The Hollies, well that's simple
They were named after the man
If the music had really died that day
Would Graham Nash still be a fan?

To me it took a major wound
A shot that slowed it down
It changed music's direction
Took it to another town

With Elvis silent on German soil
The Beatles took the lead
They made sure music was living
And many others did they breed

Bobby Darin, Mama Cass
Jimi Hendrix and The Pearl
Jim Morrison and Brian Jones
Made the music spin and twirl

When Elvis Died, it slowed a bit
With Lennon shot...some more
But, the music never, ever died
For those who're keeping score

For each one lost...another comes
To fill the void with sound
It may have been quite wounded
But the music's still around

Each generation keeps it
In it's own and special way
That's why Buddy's music
Is still played on air today

So, please don't think the music
Died way back in fifty nine
Just look at all who've come on since
All your favorites and all mine.

the city and it's music
every changing
the city and it's music
daily rearranging

you can hear the distant thunder
kept in time by city drums
a beat of urban tires
that makes the city roadways strum
the wind blows through the subway
you can hear the wires hum
it's the city making music
shut your eyes and listen some

the band has no conductor
there are horns and there are strings
there's a bass back from the buses
listen to the joy it brings
it's a concert in the city
by the city and it rings
the bells from downtown churches
and the piegeons flapping wings

you've an orchestra around now
listen close, it never stops
from the cars racing through downtown
to the whistle blowing cops
it's a different kind of music
it's got a rhythm that just pops
it's a gritty harder sound
that echos to the building tops

cars, trucks, people walking
all are part of this great band
and the best part of this music
is it's spread across the land
each song you hear is different
nothing ever comes out planned
each city has a cadence
listen close, the show's at hand....

It wasn't s'posed to happen
Not this way at least
But, as folks always tell ya
It's just the nature of the beast

Go to High school, finish college
Then get married, all to plan
Girl got pregnant, plan averted
Time to step up, be a man

Trouble comes when least expected
It sees you down, it has a feast
Trouble comes when least expected
It is the nature of the beast

A second child, a crap apartment
Robbing Peter to pay Paul
Nothing goes the way you planned it
Nothing's working out at all

Rent is due, the bills are mounting
You need to find a better way
Can you fix all that is broken
Or do you just run away

A pretty girl shows some attention
You do not mind it in the least
You then return her sweet affection
It is the nature of the beast

The kids grow up and time passes
Your secret buried deep within
But life at home is still disrupted
And then you do it all again

You harbor guilt for all your failures
It's not your fault, what's gone before
You blame your spouse, it's just too easy
But you can not leave,  walk out the door

The stress it builds just like a fire
Not just yours, hers too increased
She leaves to move on with another
It is the nature of the beast

I'm dancing with my darling
To the New Covid Waltz
She looked up and she said to me
"I can not see you"
"You're so far away"
For now, that's the way it must be

I remember the time
That we danced until morning
Watching the night turn to day
Now, when we're dancing
I can't even touch you
You have to stay six feet away

I'm dancing with my darling
To the New Covid Waltz
She looked up and she said to me
"I can not see you"
"You're so far away"
For now, that's the way it must be

I remember when we
Would dance in  the moonlight
Cutting a path 'cross the floor
Now with N ninety five masks
And gloves to your elbow
We cannot do that anymore

I'm dancing with my darling
To the New Covid Waltz
She looked up and she said to me
"I can not see you"
"You're so far away"
For now, that's the way it must be

So, remember this
Keep your distance while dancing
Doing whatever you please
Don't get too close though
Please keep your distance
In case one of you happens to sneeze

I'm isolated, waiting
at home with my wife
adapting like others
to our normal new life

a few days, no problem
a week, it's a breeze
but, nobody said
there would be days like these

at first it was easy
cleaning, watching tv
I dusted, did windows
even cut back a tree

i worked in the garage
got my records in line
i found about ten
i didn't know that were mine

i've written a little
tried to keep myself sane
watching tv is trouble
watching people in pain

my hands are all ******
they are rough, dry and raw
they are the worst looking hands
that you ever saw

lotions and ointments
I rub them all in
my joints all are aching
like that man made of tin

we cannot have fires
open fires are banned
we can go on outside
we can't move, we can stand

my wife's in the kitchen
busy counting the rice
she's doing it right
she's counting it twice

yesterday morning
she worked right till night
she sorted the pasta
and she did it by height

the walls have been painted
right to the door lip
she did it real nice
she used a q-tip

i've sorted my hardware
all my nuts, screws and nails
i've got some in jars
i've put others in pails

the floors are all washed
the cupboards wiped too
we're adapting quite well
i hope you are too

when the weather gets nice
i'll go cut my grass
i'll use a ruler and scissors
to help make time pass

this is the new normal
it won't change for a while
so, stay at home please
read this, and then smile

I think it's time to do an update
Of The Seven Deadly Sins
Most people do not know them all
Sit down and let's begin
I'm not really religious
But, I think they're a bit stale
So, I think I'll spruce them up a bit
In this my sinly tale
Gluttony, a sin of course
I think it should be changed
With an asterick, obesity
There, that's one sin rearranged
With dinner plates much larger now
And fast food all around
I don't think God prepared the world
For the obese people we've found
Hyper-obese children
Fed from chemically laden food
I think that gluttony can be renamed
To Obesity....don't you?
Greed...there's not much to say
Unless you're not in the one per cent
You know, the ones who have the cash
While we're still making rent
Unless things are all equal
This will never go away
Someone always wants all that you've got
There's not much more for me to say
Envy....not a really bad one
To me, it should not be on the list
Although some might seem envious
Of that bracelet on your wrist
I mean, really, how is envy
Something that should condemn your soul to hell
I mean I like my friends TV
But, I know he likes mine as well
Condemning both our mortal souls
For being envious of our tellies
That just does not hold water
Exactly like my wellies
Lust...I know, a good one
It gets confused a lot with love
To me the only difference is
With lust, you wear a glove
Lust and envy...make them one
A piggyback sin, if you will
It's like combining two commandments
Thinking evil thoughts before you ****
I lust for things I can not have
And for some, that would do me in
But, I can't see how lusting for a big tv
Can be a mortal sin
I think that  additions should be made
now, while I'm here writing
I think that reality tv is one
To be a sin it is inviting
Hoarding, that should make the list
I mean, most of them are lazy
I think how one defines celebrity
Has gotten rather hazy
Now, sloth...can be removed I think,
Or at the least, re-defined
Today, they're abusers of the system
It's the avoidance of work they say
So, here's what's in my mind
One who's known as sloth like
Avoids spiritual work as well
I say, cut them off of welfare
It's not worth sending them to hell
They'd be getting a free trip there
Again, avoiding doing stuff
Just cut their payments off and then
They'll work and quit their guff
Anger, keep it on the list
Because, it's a good one, I admit
Of all the ones upon the list
I think Anger's a good fit
Finally, we get to Pride
And I'm confused
I think the sin is blurry
And the word is overused
Pride of Man, it is a sin
but, aren't you proud of your young child?
when they go and score a winning goal
This as a sin, I think is wild
I am proud of my home country
And I hope that you are too
But, pride itself, it's not a sin
Aren't you proud of what you do?
Gay people have their pride parade
They are proud of who they are
But, pride itself....come on now...let's
Draw the line, not go so far
Combine the list of deadly sins
With commandments, make an app
Change punishments around a bit
Instead of limbo, give a slap
I think that things are sinful
And I know you won't agree
But, this is how I look at things
It's just me being me

It's been forty three years since that night
when i went out to do what's right
Something that I've kept inside since then

People searched but never found
They followed my prints on the ground
Never looking for anyone else, but men

I'm the one who shot him dead
Two bullets shot, and then I fled
Now it's time to tell my tale 'bout then

It was the night the lights went out in Georgia
It was the night that they hung an innocent man
Don't trust your soul to no back woods southern lawyer
Cause the judge in the town's got blood stains on his hands

They looked high, and they looked low
followed my prints in the snow
Never caring if he did the crime

They hung my brother from a tree
The one who should have died was me
I've never left, I've been here all the time

I guess what goes around comes around
The judge is now dust in the ground
The sheriff, he is also long time dead

It was the night the lights went out in Georgia
It was the night that they hung an innocent man
Don't trust your soul to no back woods southern lawyer
Cause the judge in the town's got blood stains on his hands

It's been a long, long time since Andy died
Rivers of tears that I have cried
But in the end I can' change what was done

Cause Andy's cheating wife never left town
And her body has never been found
Cause this little sister don't miss when she aims her gun

It was the night the lights went out in Georgia
It was the night that they hung an innocent man
Don't trust your soul to no back woods southern lawyer
Cause the judge in the town's got blood stains on his hands

In the backroads there's a legend
By the old black hanging tree
That this is the old crossroads
Where the devil comes to me
There's nothing near, it's barren
But the tree and an old rope
It is dark, and bleak and distant
And all devoid of hope
Is this the famous crossroads
where the devil makes a deal
It depends on what you're willing
To trade and get his seal

There is a tale of Johnny
Who played and won his bet
He beat the Devil at his game
But, the Devil does not fret
For every Johnny that is lost
A million more are signed
Just look around the world and see
They just so easy for to find

The pious and believers
Pass the tree and it's ok
But, the souls who wish to trade up
Feel a reason for to stay
The Devil hears their pleas
And he comes up to their side
He brings along the contract
And then he takes them for a ride

Deals are made for money
and deals are made for fame
It doesn't matter to the Devil
He's the ruler of the game
You'll get your wish regardless
In trade he gets your soul
The only thing you need to know
Is that you are no longer whole

A contract is a contract
And redemption sets you free
But, to doublecross the devil
Isn't easy as you'll see
Johnny beat him fairly
And the Devil said that he
Will come and grab a million more
By the old, black, hanging tree.

The door opened, he entered
There was a whoosh of air
The Bluesman looked bedraggled
And he grabbed himself a chair

Cy, came out, he heard the bell
Saw the Bluesman, gave a smile
He said "I see the storm is worse"
"It's gonna keep up for a while"

The Bluesman looked around the store
Saw a guitar on the wall
"She's an old one hanging over there"
He called to Cy, now down the hall

He grabbed it, rubbed the neck some
He said "she's got a lot to say"
He went back to the wooden chair
And the Bluesman, he did play

"There's lots of music in this girl"
"So many songs not sung"
He looked back at the hook behind
Where this old guitar had hung

He sang songs about Jesus
about freedom, and the moon
Amazingly for the guitars age
It wasn't out of tune

Cy went to the pawn stores  back
returning with a flask
He'd brought the Bluesman medicin
The Bluesman continued with his task

"This old girls a treasure trove"
"She's just so full of words"
"Songs kept hidden for so long"
"Songs just waiting to be heard"

He played some more, the storm let up
He thanked Cy, took his leave
"An old guitar needs to be played"
"It's lost songs to be grieved"

"You know that you can play her"
"Whenever you come by"
The Bluesman turned and smiled
He held the flask given by Cy

"That old guitar is special"
"She's an old soul, just like me"
"I thank you for the offer"
"Time will tell, we'll see"

The Bluesman left the pawnshop
It was if he wasn't there
He went out back behind Gianni's
And sang his music to the air

The Old Man sat and watched
Muttered some, not much
He just sat there watching shoppers
Use Black Friday as a crutch
A crutch to show inherent greed
Not caring what they bought
He watched them fight for useless stuff
And in the end, it's all for naught

He smiled and he just sat there
Just incensed by what he saw
As the double doors flew open
And opened the stores maw
Whenever did the season
Change from giving gifts to this?
I've been around for many years
Was there a memo that I missed

He sat and watched the melee
A retail **** you might say
Then he muttered once more slowly
And he rose and walked away
He shook his head from side to side
Trying to make sense of this whole scene
These people gave thanks yesterday
What does Christmas mean?

He stopped and picked up letters
From his post box on the way
And then he went up to the roof, you see
To his reindeer and his sleigh
The old man, well...it's Santa Claus
And he's adding new names to his list
With the nightmare down below him
There's now some folks who might get missed

The old man sat in the darkness
Taking in what he could see
He smiled, although slyly
And he leaned in close to me

He said the air is different
You can taste it here abouts
Listen close to what's around you
The air is different...there's no doubt

I didn't understand him
He spoke in concepts, not in words
He talked of feeling the emotions
Of people running 'round in herds

He said, I've been here sixty years now
Seen people come and people go
I used to be the barkeep
But, then that's something that you know

I've seen Elvis and The Beatles
Seen Presidents and Kings
I've seen hearts torn all asunder
And the pain that a war brings

I saw Kennedy on that TV
That, one behind your head
I watched him drive on straight through Dallas
And moments later he was dead

This place was just dead silent
On the day that that man died
And hand to god I'll tell you
I was all torn up inside

I saw soldiers in that Vietnam
Fighting for what? I don't know
I saw them on that TV there
I watched them lining up to go

I saw them having rally's
Taunting those who had the guns
I saw them bringing back the caskets
Of the now dead, teenage sons

That TV showed me lots of stuff
It never strayed far from the news
It always shows the Tigers game
I turn it up to hear the boos

I saw King and Bobby on that set
Taken way to young
God, it would have been a different world
To see what things they might have brung

I sat back and I listened
The old man, went on a while
He waved ******* skyward
And said, two more beers ...with his smile

My life has been a good one
I've been alone, except for here
I watch the outside on that set
It was then, we got our beer

I remember back when Elvis died
He was the best back in the day
But, me I liked Sinatra
Dean Martin, Bob and Ray

There was folks in here all crying
singing songs, and holding hands
on various occassions
from Lennons death, to Bobby Sands

I never really took part
In the lives of those who came
To spend their time here with me
I only knew a few by name

My job was just to serve them
Not to be their new best friend
I guess that's why I sit here still
Watching, waiting for the end

That set has shown me good and bad
That one, behind your head
It hasn't worked for fifteen years
We got a new one in instead

It's there as a reminder
more to me, than those still here
That life is for the living
And I'm alive while I am here

He rose and turned back to me
Said, it's time for us to close
I'll be back again tomorrow
To watch more highs and maybe lows

I watched the old man shuffle
To his room, and to his bed
Past the TV he saw life on
On the wall behind my head.

I was sitting playing slots
It was two a.m. and vacant
When a man came up and asked
Is this seat beside you taken?
I turned and told him no i'ts free
I looked deep and saw despair
He dropped his rumpled duffle bag
And plopped himself into the chair

He let his body acclimate
More to the warmth, than to the seat
I turned and played my game some  more
This man was basking in the heat
I watched him pull the tickets
From his pocket one by one
He laid them out before him
Until he'd counted twenty one
He fed them to the slot machine
Some kicked back, he got real tense
When he was finished I looked over
He had put in just ninety cents

The tickets were the remnants
of what others may have lost
But to him, they were a rental
To keep him not from getting tossed
He watched me for a while
Not hitting one button on his side
I could not help but look over
No matter how I tried

His hair was grey and matted
His fingers showed the stains
Of many years of nicotine
His eyes just showed the pain
He lit a smoke, second hand I'd say
He'd pulled a bag from in his coat
It was full of butts, all well worn down
Already ****** down someone's throat
He gave a cough and coughed a bit
Like he was getting set to speak
Then this man, slid over some
And in a voice, weary and weak
He said 'you got to line them up
I'll give you some advice
I knew that slots were random
But, this man....he had a price

He stared close at my empty glass
I'd just finished a cold beer
He coughed again and then he said
Son, it's surely dry in here
I waved a drink girl over
And I signalled to her "two"
I mean, it was cold outside
And I couldn't let him go  with out a brew
He kept eyeing up my ashtray
Where I'd left half a cigar
I knew that he would have it
in his grasp, before I went too far
I watched as he kept staring
Looking round, checking his back
He was fidgeting, and shaking
Waiting for the drink girl to come back
He had no bills to tip her
So as he saw her coming near
He got up to use the restroom
He said son....please watch my beer
I tipped her for the two of them
He was watching from the door
I guess when you've got nothing
You've got to learn just how to get more
I lit a second cigar up
clipped the end and took a puff
He sat back and breathed the smoke right down
Until his lungs had had enough
I asked him if he'd like one
His eyes lit up at this
He said thank you and was grateful
He said sir, I'd be remiss
But, can you cut it with your cutter
It's been so long since I've had one
I used to smoke them in Miami
When I used to winter in the sun
Lately, though, I've had hard times
I'm not half the man I was
I can't tell you what I used to have
I can't total up the loss
I lit the smoke, he ****** it in
Almost passed out from the taste
He said, I see these on the street some days
All crushed, son....what a waste
I used to winter in Miami
Watching jai lai, betting big
spending cash like it grew on trees
His eyes, they danced a jig

You know, now, when I think on back
I'm more thankful now than then
But, son, if I had the choice
I'd do it all again
Now, I come on in here
I pick my row seat in the fifth row, son
The fourth one in by the third glass door
The second seat, just over one
I listened to his seating plan
I looked around and tried to see
He said, you're looking at what seat I'm in
Looking for door number three
I'm kidding with you, there's no seat
I just move around to where it's warm
to where I might find some conversation
A place, some shelter from the storm
I knew he was a grafter
And in the end would be found out
He was looking for the easy way
Of this there was no doubt
whether he'd ever seen Miami
didn't matter all the same
But, in truth how many drifters
Know that jai lai is a sport and not a game
I finished up and told him
Keep warm and find a bed
He told me thanks, and shook my hand
And ran his hand over his head
I got up and I left him
Leaving five bucks on my machine
A fresh cigar in my ashtray
all where it could be seen
I walked away in silence
Heard the ticket get spit out
I then turned to see him leaving
Looking around for his next route
Whether he'd ever seen Miami
had cash, or food to eat
didn't matter in the long run
As he searched out another seat

I heard an antique music box
Play out of tune and rather sour
But, the smell that came from in the box
I could savour by the hour
It took me back to days gone by
Days where messages weren't mixed
Where you heard terms you no longer here
Like "he got eighty sixed"
You'd watch tv together
Or sit and sing around the fire
Things were simple, crisper then
Not all muddled in a mire
Things had double meanings
Now, this music box I speak of
played a tune, I'm not quite sure
I think I heard it in a movie
sung by Dorothy Lamour
Lovely Hula Hands...I think
It took me back to days before
You could see inside the music box
There was a little secret door
I worked to get it open
To see what secrets it did hold
What some child might have hidden
what to them glittered like gold
I worked the rusty hinge some
And it opened with a squeak
Inside I found a flower
so brittle and so weak
Someone hid this flower
for a reason, only theirs
And it remained here deep in hiding
Away from peoples stares
I wrapped it in some paper
Put it back inside to hide
I left it for someone to find it
Long years after I had died
I could imagine where it came from
I might be right or might be wrong
But, in the not too distant future
They'd try to figure out the song
I decided that I'd leave it
Out of tune and slightly bent
For a time when I would need to
go back in time, with that sweet scent

The doorbell rang sharply
I threw off my blanket by the door
I answered to two high school kids
"Could you donate to the poor?"
"We're taking cans, and money"
" clothing, gloves and jackets too"
"Is it in your heart to help us"
"can we get something from you?"
I said "Come back tomorrow"
"I'm a little short you see"
"I'll be home from work directly"
"You can come here after three"
They smiled, "see you later"
said the tall one with the hat
"We'll be back again tomorrow"
And I thought, that was that
I closed the door behind them
Went back and I sat down
I was reading by the fireside
Wrapped in an old dressing gown
The heat was off in most rooms
The house was small, and drafty too
I had to heat it with the fire
Or lose my heat all up the flue
I had no cash for cable
A computer? not a chance
I could barely pay the mortgage
I was in bad circumstance
The job I'd had forever
At least since I left school
Was gone now, plant was shuttered
They closed the old Majestic Tool
Three hundred sixty workers
Most had been there all their life
As had been their fathers
It's where I met my wife
She left me when they closed up
Got an offer to head west
I told her take the offer
I told her "I think it's for the best"
She hasn't called in eighteen months
I got the papers for divorce
I figured, I can't afford to call her
So, it's just par for the course
I trip around the town by day
Getting meals where they are free
In a town as poor as we are
It's not a real strange sight to see
There is no work around here
I'll have to move within a year
If things don't soon get better
I'll try to stay real close to here
The morning after last night
You know, the one I spoke about
Where the kids came out collecting
And I pretended I was out
of food and cash and clothing
didn't have a dime to spare
I would have loved to help a little
But I didn't really dare
A can of food would last two days
Spaghetti, maybe three
Although I  wanted to contribute
I need these things for me
I went into the foodbank
The morning after the night before
I would get my Christmas hamper
Along with others, walking poor
I'd take it home, unpack it
And when the kids came by at three
I would give them, at least something
My word meant a lot to me
I didn't have a lot of things
Not much was left at all
But, my word, was worth a fortune
I'd be there when they called
In the back, out of my vision
While I signed and took my box
Was one of the two students
Sorting through some coats and socks
I took off with my treasure
Set to donate when they came
I was robbing Peter to pay Paul
It was such a silly game
The boy went to the counter
He checked my address in the book
He then went to see the head man
He wanted him to take a look
He told him of their visit
How he recognized my face
He realized how much it hurt me
To be reliant on this place
They talked about my visit
And they saw my need was real
And they talked amongst the others
with elvish, Christmas zeal
I was waiting for the doorbell
Had two cans, and a small coat
When the doobell rang, I answered
There was four boxes and a note
Vacant space, they must have run
They had to be close by
What I saw there boxed before me
Well, it made this grown man cry
Instead of coming for donations
They knew how hard it was for me
They had brought along some blankets
And lots of food, for free
I picked the note up gingerly
I was still shaking from the tears
It said "Merry Christmas Mr. Watson"
"and Have a Happy, Safe New Year".

His hair was ruffled as the wind picked up

"next time, I'll wear a hat"

He kept on painting, not deterred

And to him..well, that was that.

As the weather worsened and rain moved in

He packed up and moved on

By the time the storm had taken hold

And the rains came, he'd be gone

He headed home on up the road

Past the little village shoppes

He counted, silent, to himself

Of every time he'd stopped

He knew each curb and crossing

From the river on his route

It was 5 blocks, 1/2 mile

Just time for one cheroot.

He'd smoked them now for 60 years

But now, he just smoked one

It relaxed him as he walked on home

He knew his day was done

He painted by the river

On an easel, nice and light

He would go there in the morning

And would stay there until night

He painted what he saw each time

The pictures he created

Were images from in his head

Some were finished, some belated

He didn't always get them done

So, he'd put them to the side

And he'd finish them another time

For now, these he would hide

As others looked upon his works

As they passed by him by the shore

A few would ask him what they were

And they didn't say much more

The paintings that John Joseph

Were for him, and him alone

He didn't care if others

Stood and stared, and sometimes groaned

He lost his sight a lifetime back

He'd splashed some acid in his face

He may have lost his eyesight

But his blindness taught him grace

For people looked upon his art

Seeing only paint and lines

Until he told them of the images

He was painting from his mind

He'd been around the world a bit

And the things that he had seen

Were all captured in his memories

And he would now paint every scene

One day he'd paint the Taj Mahal

As only he did know

But to someone passing by that day

It may look as only snow

The Eiffel Tower, black and tall

With the blue sky there behind

Made people wonder endlessly

What went on in John J's mind

His canvases were covered in

His palettes tints and hues

But, the shapes folks saw upon the board

Were not crisp, they were askew

But John Joseph saw his artwork

As a postcard of his life

He'd mix paint with his brushes

And sometimes use his knife

He'd change his strokes to fit his mood

Some short and sometimes long

But, because he couldn't see them

Nothing ever would be wrong

His grass was blue and sometimes black

The water might be red

But John Joseph never cared at all

His art was in his head

No one ever saw the thngs

that Old John Joseph did

They would always look, politely

And then farewell to him they'd bid

But one day while describing things

In a painting that he'd done

To a family here from out of town

Two parents and their son

The father said, "I'd like to see"

"More places from your mind"

"Can you bring some down tomorrow"

"If you would please, be so kind"

John Joseph said, he'd bring some down

But he laughed, and said "You'll see"

"that the pictures aren't what you'd expect"

"I just painted them for me"

The next day when they met again

They had brought their son called Paul

He just stood off in the background

While John Joseph told them all

Of what was on each canvas

Of the paintings in his mind

He said "no one else sees them"

"To me, most folks are blind"

But the father told John Jospeh

You have opened up the world

For as you describe each picture

Your images unfurled

A world of unkown wonder

That can't be measured by a mile

But, Paul you see can see them

We can see it in his smile

Paul is blind as well you see

Lost his sight a few years back

But, your descriptions of your painting

In his mind, you've brought it back

Paul then asked John Joseph

To paint more pictures, from the start

And this young lad and his parents

Had touched John Joseph's heart

John Joseph gave his painting

To the people and their son

And he said when they returned again

He'd have another one

True blindness is within us

It's not just in what you see

It's also in the way you think

It helped this blind man be free

He painted pictures in his head

For him and him alone

Now, he shared his muddled painting

With a family known as Stone.
.

Going down to Festival Park, just to see the sights

Neve know what you might see, It changes every night

Buskers, dancers, singers too, kids with faces painted

Pickpockets, con men and others who, live life by methods tainted

A hundred years ago or so the park was then donated

The family Billings, gave the land and their lovely gift was feted

Every year a party held in honour of the Billings

Until that time in fifty one, when the town had all those killings

No one in the town that year was safe while he was out there

He didn't pick just one set type, he didn't seem to care

Couples parked in cars at night at the far end of the park

It wasn't a safe place to be, especially after dark

Two men were found with bullet wounds, dead upon a bench

The Wylie boy was found because a dog had liked the stench

Yourng Tommy Wylie, 12 years old, was found behind the boat shed

The only thing to tie his case was the bullet in the head

The park though nice in daylight, at night became a veldt

Everyone was scared to death, that;s the way the whole town felt

A young man by the cenothaph and two more by the lake

The police had no clear suspect, they needed a mistake

The party at the park was stopped and other functions too

For the killer could be from this town, and who nobody knew

Eleven deaths in that dark summer put the town upon the map

Tourists would not visit, they would not come to his trap

The police were inundated with phone calls far and wide

People turning in everyone and making others hide

A task force was assembled, 30 cops from out of state

They had to find this killer before it was too late

While they interviewed the suspects the park had no events

You could go on through in daytime, but it still made one feel tense

The city added lighting to walkways and no luck

The only thing it added was taxes went up a buck

No other killings happened until that one in sixty two

It was just like all the others, so they thought that they knew who

Was back in town gone hunting, but there only was that one

A young man in his rambler, sitting drinking in the sun

The task force was abandoned back in fifty five

But after this last ******, they called back only five

This time it would be different, this time they'd get their man

Technolgy had changed alot, he'd be caught before he ran

A shell casing was found beside the wall down by the bridge

And it had a print upon it, they identified the ridge

Years ago they'd interviewed about three hundred men

But with this single ridge print, it was narrowed down to ten

Eight were dead and one left town, so with only one to find

A dragnet and a takedown plan were carefully designed

They knew that he'd be running if they called him back to talk

And they couldn't risk to lose him, or their whole case would walk

So with some misinformation printed in a column in the post

They hoped they flush their suspect, the one they wanted most

They said they'd made the capture, confessing every crime

They would take away his thunder, dropping hints on every crime

But, they would omit one last case, the one he started with

For this was information that they wanted him to give

It worked, he dropped a letter to the paper that same week

Threatening to strike again, and the first case he did leak

In his anger and his hurry he would leave another clue

They found another print to help them out and with this they had two

They swooped in and arrested a man of no abode

He lived in city missions he had no moral code

His capture freed the city from the monster in the park

It was now a place where you could go, and feel safe after dark

The festival committee for the city planned a fete

The victims of this monster, their lives they'd celebrate

A monument to those who died would be erected in their honor

And the whole thing would be organized by the Mayor...Mayor John B Connor

The names were read of each victim and then two minutes silence reigned

And a wreath for every family involved, these then were laid

New trees were planted for them all in a corner near a wall

And the park would schedule new events and brand new festivals

But, every year on this same day, on the tenth day of month ten

They would hold a special service for these women and these men

The park was now a joyous place, like it was meant to be

And if you're there, out by the wall...then you just might locate me.
.

Bottom feeders flourish

When the economy's a bust

When bad times are the norm

And good times turn to dust

When neighborhoods go south it's sad

But a sign of their demise

Is when a bunch of pawn shops open up

Before your very eyes

When stores close down or move on out

After years in the same place

Their memory is a radar blip

They leave without a trace

But as fast as they lock up their doors

Another shop moves in

It's the local pawn shop dealer

He's a shark without a fin

Like dollar stores and boarded doors

The pawn shop shows the way

That business has moved on out

Or closed or moved away

They prey on peoples hardship

They broker deals without a care

They don't need to know your history

They just know that you're there

The street has three new pawn shops

Palaces of buy back stuff

It's bad when there is one around

But, three...well that's enough

One opened by the Jeweller

Two doors down across the street

Now he's buying up possessions

Of everyone he meets

Folks who purchased jewellery

From Old Cy at his old store

For each twenty of it's value

The pawn shop gives you four

Cy can't afford to buy back

He doesn't have much money left

And besides his store insurance

Doesn't cover much for theft

The people at the Pawn shops

Took jobs and live in town

They trained two counties over

They succeed when times are down

It's a sign of the recession

Downtown dies and fades away

And then the bottom feeders surface

Their the ones who're gonna stay

You can look in the shop windows

Know who bought what and from where

You know the candlesticks were bought at Cy's

And you know who bought them there

The guitar that hangs beside them

That was pawned by Emma Rose

She needed money for the bills

When the fresh fish plant had closed

There's a snapshot of the township

Sitting inside on their walls

They pawn shop is successful

While the economy still falls

You can see a piece and start to cry

For you know just why it's there

There's no one here to help them

There's no jobs and it's not fair

They open up each morning

While the nights dregs still sleep outside

They have done two hours business

Before lights on at Cy's

It's a sad and constant story

Of just what a town's become

But when asked if they've been in there

The inhabitants go "mumb"

They never seem to close up

The town's never make it back

While most places lose money

Pawn shops make it by the sack

The bluesman has some stuff there

The bartender has some too

Even though her bar's still going

She did what she had to do

The street, it is it's own world

Jewelly shops, banks and bars

But inside the local pawn shops

Are hidden all the scars.

All the edits finished
All the audio in time
Geoff and Garry worked hard
To get the podcast up on line
topics from the serious
To topics quite delirious
full of energy
even one on me
A pair of pop culture pundits
Spewing whatever comes to mind
It's a great bit of entertainment
It might just expand your mind
Take the time to listen now
They may even have a row
You never know
So start the show
The Pendulum Podcast
Is the show of which I speak
They both put it together
They try to put one out
Most every week
It reaches to the geek in us
sometimes you'll need an omnibus
To understand
the things that these two can
It's enjoyable and funny
Take the time
and listen in
Do yourself a favour
It is not a mortal sin
But, who knows where
the show will lead
they do it for the fun not greed
you'll love to hear
The topics these two spear.

check out The Pendulum Podcast on facebook, and youtube. Link to youtube is as follows
http://www.youtube.com/user/ThePendulumOnTV/videos

Christmas was coming and sooner than not
There was lists to be made and gifts to be bought
Nothing real special, since money was low
But something from Santa with a beard white as snow
Jewellery, not likely, a book, not this year
The gift for this Christmas would be real sincere
Not handmade, or tacky like a plastic gift card
Like the one I got last year, to put a pond in my yard
This gift must be special, one to tick all the squares
To show thought was given, to show that I care
Not clothing, not music, maybe something from France
Nope....I did that last Christmas with those real, bad, tight pants
A photo, would do it, that would be the right gift
The picture would surely give their heart quite a lift
Now, which photo would do it, which one should I use
With so many to look at it was real tough to choose
I went down to the basement and went deep in the box
You know the one that I speak of, the one with brass locks
After hours of searching through the musty old crate
I found just the picture and I thought it was great
It was a photo of...sorry, I can't tell you what
It's a Don't Open Till Christmas type photo...with thought.

I must be moving on from you
It's been good, but it's not love
At least not the kind I'm looking for
When push comes down to shove

The times we had were special
But, in the end...'twas just a phase
What I first mistook for love was like
And our like just lasted days

The perfect girl, the one I want
Is in my mind and in my heart
I'm in love with someone I've not met
And now I've gone back to the start
The girl I love, I do not know
She's in my head and in my mind
I know she's out there somewhere
And in the end it's her I'll find

On a scale of pain recovery
You took two bottles, nearly three
I know I have to tell you
It wasn't you ...you see, it's me

I got lust and love all tangled
It was just a lesson for us two
I know there's somewhere out there for me
And now I know it isn't you

The perfect girl, the one I want
Is in my mind and in my heart
I'm in love with someone I've not met
And now I've gone back to the start
The girl I love, I do not know
She's in my head and in my mind
I know she's out there somewhere
And in the end it's her I'll find

I'd made the call and waited
About an hour passed and then
The doorbell broke the silence
I started breathing once again
I answered, staring blankly
There were two men and a girl
I let all three make entry
I was now part of their world
The tall man, dark and weathered
Said "we must first check you out"
And they left the girl just standing
And the two men moved about
They went  upstairs and then came back
Both nodding, not a word
Then they proceeded to the basement
Where not a sound was heard
On their  return they looked at me
Tall man spoke once more
"Your place is clean, it's only you?
There isn't any more?"
I told him no, it was only me
I could hear my heartbeat now
I'd crossed into another world
One that the law would not allow
You see I'd phoned a number
I saw it in the papers ads
I was feeling kind of lonely
And I was feeling kind of sad
The first time that I phoned it
Yes, I had to call again
The first time that I phoned it
I couldn't talk...and then
I hung it up and thought a bit
I dialed and heard the ring
when they answered I just mumbled
And I could barely say a thing
They could tell I'd never done this
Phone for company at night
I didn't know the etiquette
I didn't ask them right
This time, though they cut off the call
and I thought that was end
I would have to call another number
If I was to be paying for a "friend"
I poured a drink to calm my nerves
Then the doorbell rang you know
I'd just blown through one whole hour
I was still feeling rather low
Now, back to this groups entry
They read the rules and I agreed
She was not the most attractive
But, she was the one who'd fill my need
The men both left, they took the cash
I had to pay them  in advance
I just stood there with this woman
Wanting just to do the dance
She smiled at me demurely
Asked me what I called to do
Did my needs stray from the normal
Or did I only want to *****?
I blushed and said, "I'm normal"
"My wife is out of town"
"I really don't know how to ask this"
She smiled and kneeled down
She took her t-shirt off at first
And she put it on the chair
But first, she folded it
and she ran her fingers through her hair
Delicate, not street weary
Her face now showed her age
This was some body's young daughter
She was acting on this stage
She grabbed my belt, and then my pants
And she told me to sit back
My heart was beating louder now
I was starting to lose track
Of  the entire situation
Phoning up and buying her
It was just another purchase
She just kneeled there so demure
I thought about my wife now
What she'd do and if she'd leave
I would have to lie forever
My dear wife I'd deceive
The girl looked up as if to say
Hey bud we're on the clock
And as much as mind was backing out
My **** was like a rock
I thought of things to **** the urge
Like baseball and old hags
Of women peddling on the street
All smelly and in rags
But as my mind wanted out
My body wanted more
I couldn't shut the blood flow
I was going to have this *****
The act took only minutes
She barely touched me...and I blew
"You can tell you'd never done this:
"It's so obvious, you're new"
She went to use the bathroom
Clean herself and call her ride
And while she did this process
A part of me just died
I'd broken down my marriage
Destroyed it in one act
I went against my wedding vows
How would I now react?
I'd have to keep the secret
My wife knows I'm crap at that
she'd only have to look at me
and then sir, that was that
How would I explain the missing money
where'd four hundred dollars go
I could not tell her what happened
But still, I'm sure she'd know
the guilt would surely **** me
I would not get through the year
She would be a grieving widow
I knew that I would die of fear
Now, sitting down I poured a drink
And emptied out my head
Now I'd played it out inside my mind
And now, I'm off to bed
I never made the phone call
They never showed up at my house
I just played it out inside  my brain
You see, I'm really quite the mouse
I would fantasize it happened
Knowing I'd never phone at all
For the end was too **** scary
And I shuffled down the hall.

Every night before I sleep
I touch a picture on my way
A picture of two people
Who I've not met to this day
They watch my every waking move
I know they follow me around
I try to justify my life to them
In response, they make no sound
They raised a daughter...Megan
She is the most important thing to me
The picture is her parents
Her dad's been gone since she was three
I feel them sometimes, watching
I hope they look on her with pride
I know that I will meet them
When I reach the other side
The product of their union
Makes me proud she is my wife
I thank them on my way to bed
For it was them that gave her life
I know I would have liked them
And I hope they feel the same
I know their time here was a short one
But, I'm awful glad they came
Charlie and Margaret Edwards
I'm sure you'll let me know
If I cross the line a smidgen
And if across the line I go
I know you both are watching
so there's one thing I must do
I love your daughter Megan
I just want to say "Thank You"

A chanter cracked from overuse
Cheeks salt stained from shed tears
Shed for those who lost their lives
Lost well before their years

The piper played for seventeen
Who never saw their best
Amazing Grace hung in the air
While our hearts beat in our chests

The massacre at Dunblane School
took seventeen that day
One teacher and lo, sixteen more
Beneath a sky all streaked with grey

The Pipers lips were dry and cracked
And the salt burned as he cried
but, he played the best he ever played
For the seventeen who died

The world was once their oyster
But, it never saw them grow
If you listen, you can hear him
That lonely piper blow

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace."

When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.

“The usual….perfessor”…asked the bartender.
“Not tonight Sam….celebrating….gonna hike it up a notch”….”Something from a bottle this time”.
“Maybe a PBR” he laughed, “…instead of the usual…draft PBR…bottle….”.
“On it’s way”….”why the upgrade”…”…it’s a whole twenty five cents more on the tab” laughed the bartender.

“Tonight, my dear sir, Tonight….was the opening of the school play…and I survived…barely….but, I survived..and I’m here to tell the tale”…”so….Tonight….we splurge!”.

“I forgot” said Ted, the barkeep. “I knew it was coming up….but, well…you are here…and not cowering in a corner somewhere, curled up in the fetal position…so, I am assuming that this year went better than last years version of “Death of a Salesman”.?”

“Better? it would not have been to tough to be better than that catastrophe…it was the best…THE BEST….out of all of the previous school plays…I couldn’t be more proud of how it turned out…..**** it..PBR and a chaser…it was that freaking good!”

“Really? In all of the years you’ve been teaching at the school you have never…NEVER come in here this happy about how the show went. I can’t believe it!”

“Don’t…It was crap. What I just did was acting. What they did, was crap. You know we did “Death of A Salesman”. Classic play. Great play. It’s been done by some of the best actors in the industry. Then, there was our version. It should have been called “Death of A Theater Arts Program”.

“Sorry to hear that Professor,  two more?”
“**** right, and keep them coming.”

“I was a working actor for years before I took this gig. I wasn’t great, but, I got by. These kids, I just don’t know, I just don’t get it.
The lights went up and they just lost it, it was more Monty Python than Arthur Miller. I mean, he must be spinning in his grave at some incredible speed right now. These kids made my brain hurt”

“It couldn’t have been that bad Professor, I mean, they did all right in rehearsal, didn’t they?”

“Sure, no family watching, no pressure at all…they did fine. But, once those lights went on and the curtains went up, it was every man for himself, total deer in the headlights on stage.  And through it all, I couldn’t do a **** thing except stand stage left thinking, “So, this is what the Captain of the Titanic felt like that fateful night”.

At this point in the conversation, the door opens and a man walks in. He hangs up his  overcoat and joins the men at the bar.

“****…what are you doing here?”

“You two friends?” asks the bartender

“Principal Paul Jackson” says the newcomer. “From…”

“Let me guess” said the bartender, “from the same school The Professor teaches at?”

“Two more…and one for him” says the teacher.

“Yes, that school. The Professor, I like that, I can get on board with that”.

“So, what brings you here? I mean, the play is over, the kids ******, and let me guess…oh, maybe you are here to dump on me, and give me my walking papers in private”

“******, I wouldn’t go that far Professor, I can call you that can’t I? It wasn’t great, but, I must say, after what we’ve had before, it was okay. I mean they tried, they were engaged, and nobody cried on stage like they did when we did Little Women”.

“Were you watching the same thing I was? They called ***** Loman “Wally”, eleven times….ELEVEN times!!! Engaged? they were so far off script, there was no way in the world we could get back. I mean, I tried, I really tried, and I thought we had it down. But, tonight, those lights went up and it was total deer in the headlights on stage, for each and every kid”.

The drinks arrive, and the bartender leaves the men alone.

“*****, Wally, what does it matter?” They winged it, and got through. I mean, it could have been worse, but, they forged ahead”.

“Forged ahead…Washington forged ahead  crossing the Potomac, these kids, wrote a whole new play on stage in real time. Nothing made sense. It was hard to watch. I was waiting for the audience to leave, which, I think…may have happened, had they been given a
chance with an intermission”.

“See…right there, nobody left. That is a plus. You have to admit that is a win right there…nobody left, and that sir is a winning program. They had to see where it went, what happened and Professor, what comes next?”

“You can’t be serious? or are you just being facetious? “, said the Professor.
“Oh, I am serious, deadly serious. You weren’t expected to put on an award winning play, just to entertain those who attended and most important, to be able to put on the play. Most times, it never sees the light of day, teachers quit the production, students quit, hell, I quit…twice. The goal was to put on a production and you did. It wasn’t great, hell, it wasn’t even good, but, it was entertaining in the way people drive slowly by a fire or a train wreck sort of way, and you did it.”

“Bartender, two more beers, make that three….one for you and more shots” yelled the Professor.

“Start picking next year’s show and no matter what happens…save these seats for the after party”.

No one calls me by name anymore
I'm the Poppy Man to most
At least that's how most folks know me

I've been selling poppies for the legion
Since 1946
Let's see...yep...it was 46
Went over in 43 at 17 years of age
Home in 45, and yep...46
Same spot too.
There's been two owners here at Danny's. Funny thing though....
neither was called Danny. Turns out Danny was the brother of the original owner, got shot down over Germany, so they named the place after him.
I guess that's why they let me come here and sell poppies every year.

Good thing.
Now, I'm getting up there, they let me sit inside the door. Have a nice little table for myself, and they keep my cup full.
I start selling November 1st, at precisely 11 o'clock. That's just the way it should be....11 o'clock.

Over the years, I've put up with wind, rain, snow and I've always held my post. Lost a few poppies in the wind one time, and the funny thing was...people came and paid me for them afterwards. Told me they found them blowing up the street, figured they were mine. Funny things that people do.

I'll tell you 'bout the name The Poppy Man. It started in 1952. A young mother and her daughter were inside having lunch, and I heard the daughter going on about saving change for the Poppy Man. I guess, I was the Poppy Man.
One of the waitresses put a sign up by the register saying "don't forget to save your change for The Poppy Man"....and it's kinda stuck.
That little girl came back every day with her mother, dropped her pennies in and saluted. You know the way kids do...hand open and all. I guess I owe the name to her.
I've collected lots of memories over the years, most of which I can only smile about now. If I start talking about them, I'd just tear up and you wouldn't get the whole story...so, I'll keep them to myself.
I'm a bit of a celebrity in these parts I guess.
Teachers bring their classes to me, every year to get their poppies. They always send me nice letters too, saying thanks Poppy Man. Cute little drawings, and big printing. Nowadays, I appreciate the big printing more and more.
Over the years, I've collected pennies, dimes, nickels, the usual suspects, bus tickets, candy wrappers, subway tokens, whatever someone had in their pocket at the time. I've seen it all in my tin.
The last few years, I guess since about 1997 or so, the cadets send someone down to stand with me for a while during my stint here.
Good kids mostly, dedicated, and with the same determined look I think we all had back in 43 when I went over.
Most of us didn't make it back, I'm one of the lucky ones. Some who did, never came back right if you know what I mean. But, that's all I'm gonna say about that.
There's only 5 of us left now from the old regiment. I can still see their faces when I shut my eyes....young, virile, strong. I miss them all.
I guess that's why I do it. Sell the poppies every year. It's for them. And for the new kids. New soldiers, new wars, it never changes in that way...just a different style of fighting.
Every now and then though, you know I hear that old bugler tuning up his bugle, and I think "not yet...I'm not ready to have The Last Post played for me"...."not yet".
So, that's about it for me, The Poppy Man....everyone knows me, and I'm easy to find ....just head to Danny's, I'll be at the table at the front.
Don't forget now....save your change for the poppy man.

Dear Lord, please hear my prayer
Each night I ask the same
I'm sure you know me well by now
So, I will not leave my name
My husband is a soldier
Doing duty overseas
I pray you have a moment
to listen to me, please
We have two growing children
And they need their dad around
Please see he gets home safely
Once he's safely homeward bound
I'm sure you hear from others
With the same request as me
Please Lord, give them an answer
Give a sign for all to see
We ask for our young children
They're the ones in need
Please keep our soldiers safe Lord
Once they've planted freedoms seed
I count each day I ask you
I tie a ribbon to a tree
Bring them home for all of us
Don't just bring them home for me
Of all the yellow ribbons
On all the Old Oak Trees
Please Lord, I ask you
I am here upon my knees
Our soldiers left in earnest
Please keep them alive
Let them do their duty
Please keep them safe 'till they arrive
I'll be back again tomorrow
And my prayer will be the same
Like I said, I'm sure you know me
So, I will not leave my name

This is my favorite time of year
The one thing I live for
Is getting my annual invitation
Hand delivered at the door
It says "Dear Occupant"
or sometimes "your name here"
"We would like this chance to ask you"
"to see what's new this year"
"Please come to this year's Psychic Fair"
"We hope you will attend"
"Please RSVP by Tuesday"
"We'll see you soon...our friend!"
Dear occupant...how did they know
I'm unlisted in the book
My identity is secret
You can't find me if you look
I guess that's why they're psychics
They know exactly where I'm at
They know I'm waiting for my invite
They just KNOW....and that is that
Each year it's at the same place
Off the highway, past the mall
They always set up lots of tables
But, they never fill them all
This year's ad had promised
This year would be better than the last
So...I sent them back my rsvp
And I got it to them fast
I showed up in line on Friday
Not too early ....not too late
The fair began next morning
The ad said...doors open at eight
I sat outside and waited
Had my blanket, pillow too
I was there for oh....six hours
Before I saw occupant number two
"****" he said when he pulled in
"I was hoping to be first in line"
"Now, I'm gonna miss the real good stuff"
"I may as well have come at nine"
I sat there and ignored him
Knowing deep down that he was right
Then I settled down to sleep a bit
And help to pass the night
At seven ten I woke, all set
To get into the fair
I looked around and saw no one else
Just the two of us were there
I didn't mind, I thought...so what
I'm still the first one in
the others, just can eat my dust
Though the crowd, looked kind of thin
At eight o'clock the doors went click
The lock had been released
From somewhere in the building
By a switch inside the beast
We went inside and looked around
Two hundred tables on display
My heart was just on fire
This would be a special day
Tarot cards, divining rods
crystal ***** and magic wands
Harry Potter robes, more tarot cards
Crystal light strips for your ponds
Readings, Writings, images
Pictures written in the stars
They even had some dream catchers
You could hang up in your cars
I went up to the first booth
I met a psychic there named Joe
He asked me what I wanted
If he was real..then he would know
I saw comics, mind drinks
astrolgers, and saw lots of things to buy
But, every single psychic
Seemed a fraud to me...but why?
I picked up a blue crystal
Was told it would swing and show me things
It would help me to get centered
Good luck to me...it'd bring
I held it and I chanted
It just hung there on my chest
I said "This thing's not full of magic"
He said "It's just having a rest"
I tried again, with thirty more
they all just hung there like dead weight
He said "they all were swinging yesterday"
"give them time....just wait"
An hour passed, my neck gave out
They all fell to the floor
He said "don't leave..I've got a special one"
"Please try this one rock more"
I said that I would try it
But this one would be the last
I'd noticed more folks coming in
And a lot of time had passed
Again, it just ...well, hung there
Nothing happened...but just then
I sneezed and yes ...you guessed it
Nothing happened once again
I left and found a reader
One who said he'd tell me all
I just had to pay him twenty
He said the cards would make the call
A simple deck of tarot cards
All dented and all marked
Were laid out front before me
So in the seat I parked
He turned over the devil
Followed by the jester and the moon
I asked what these three cards meant
"He said, you might be dead by noon"
"or, they could mean something else"
"We'll let the cards decide
"they also might mean that you spent
Last night sleeping outside"
the next three cards turned over were
"A castle, queen and wreck"
He said that these tell me
"My kids have used my deck"
I left him there and moved along
I would give them one more chance
I tossed a coin to pick with who
I would dance the psychic dance
I made my choice and walked on to
A psychic known as Rosie
She was dressed in jeans, and tunic shirt
Just sitting kind of cozy
"I know just why you came to me"
she said as I sat down
"But, you don't have that much trust in me"
"You think I'm just a clown"
"Without belief the things I say"
"will not mean one **** thing"
"without belief you'll waste my time"
"and the knowledge that I bring"
I told her I would listen first
and make my mind up later
I liked the way she came across
I didn't want to hate her
She didn't ask to touch my hand
Didn't even ask my name
She said she picked up my vibrations
That way it wasn't just a game
She told me things I never knew
Some things I'd heard before
But when she told me about children
I then passed out and hit the floor
she told me I'd get married
that I was precise and very giving
She asked if I had teapots
in my house, where I was living
I told her yes I had some pots
and then I asked her why
She said each *** inside my house
Meant one child born for I
This is when I hit the floor
I got a bump that was quite large
I told her "I made tea pots"
"I have a kiln inside my garage"
I said "each *** is one new child"
she said yes that much is true
It was then that she passed out
I said my house held ninety two!!!

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?

I remember watching Grandad
Whenever it would rain
He would walk around the house a lot
You could tell he was in pain

See, Grandad fought in World War One
Though he never said a word
He was hearing things inside his head
Things no one ever heard

He hated rain, it made the mud
And that's where it began
Fighting, deep within the trenches
Keeping dry as best you can

Everything was always wet
You fought the ***, and fought the sky
The battle in the trenches seemed
To find ways to keep dry

Fifty yards away, no more
The enemy was waiting
Would today be when we made a move
Both sides always waiting

There were no birds up in the sky
Just clouds and all that rain
That war was stuck in Grandads head
And it was driving him insane

My dad would watch as Grandad walked
To hide from that **** sound
You know that all he thought of then
Was that trench, and muddy ground

You'd wrap yourself in what you could
You'd use  uniforms of the dead
Taken from your cohorts
Soaked in mud, and stained blood red

Boots, soaked through like paper
Feet wrapped up as best you could
The mud was everlasting
It covered everything but good

Dad, said it was painful
To watch Grandad on those days
He would hide so deep within himself
In a deep, dark, mental maze

The sun, it never dried the earth
The water just sat in little pools
With the sunlight bouncing off of it
Leaving drops shining like jewels

The smell, of rotting corpses
Piled high down at the end
Bodies of the fallen
The bodies of your friends

Dad said it was different
When he went off to fight
It wasn't like his father's war
It was just like day and night

I remember when my Grandad passed
It rained the whole day through
I remember as they lowered him
Now, I know what Grandad knew

The mud, the worms, the water
Filled his little six foot trench
And everyone was soaked on through
In my mind, I smelled the stench

I feel sorry for my Grandad
Because in truth, I like the rain
And I feel so sorry for him
That it caused him so much pain

The horror of the battle
And the act of keeping dry
You might defeat the enemy
But, not both...but, you'd try

I remember watching Grandad
And of how he hated rain
But, my Grandad was my hero
And, now I know...he's out of pain

The weather plots his journey
Town to town in dead of night
Fields dead and on a gurney
He comes in to make it right

A rainmaker, people call him
A psuedo-scammer others say
He sells himself as godlike
He comes quick and does not stay

He tells people what they wish for
He beats the storm in to their town
He seeds their minds with his tall stories
He promises more green than brown

Like an evangelistic angel
He beats the weather to the ground
He's a salesman like no other
He picks their pockets with no sound

A rainmaker, just a scammer
He works the towns where nothing lives
He is an alchemist non-gratta
He always takes and never gives

He sells snake oil and concoctions
He is a shaman in disguise
He promises rain where none has fallen
There is more moisture in the farmers eyes

He takes credit for a rainfall
He promises gold where once was straw
He's a rumplestiltskin with their feelings
He sells them only what they wish they saw

He may believe in what he tells them
He always puts his name out on a stake
But, can he truly make the skies open
That is a choice the desperate make

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.

Make a wish on every star
There's a lot of magic in the sky
Close your eyes and make a wish
On each star up there so high

Click your heels at least three times
Pick a clover in the park
Make a wish upon a rabbits foot
Look for stars when it gets dark

There's a miracle for everyone
You'll find it over time
There's a miracle for everyone
And I'm glad that I found mine

Miracles are out there now
Hiding there, right in plain sight
So, remember to wish on that star
When you go home tonight

Look into the sky at night
Find a star, or maybe two
You might just get your miracle
But you won't unless you do

There's a miracle for everyone
You'll find it over time
There's a miracle for everyone
And I'm glad that you are mine.

Want to get a mortgage?
A loan to buy a car?
Tickets to a Aruba?
You need not go too far

You want to take a photo?
Check to see if it will snow?
Do a search and you will find
All you need to know

Oh...buddy, there's an app out there
For all you want to do
Even things you do not like
There's apps for those things too

You're in to online gaming?
You need groceries, maybe beer?
Don't worry, bud, it's out there
Thousands more show up each year

Lyrics for a song you like
You can find them in three notes
You want to lay a bet in Vegas
You need to buy some extra totes

Oh...buddy, there's an app out there
For all you want to do
Even things you do not like
There's apps for those things too

You want to find a certain app
There's an app that does that too
There's an app that knows just what you want
Before you know you do

If you want to write a novel
Who cares that you can't spell?
I'm sure that you have figured
There's an app for that as well

Oh...buddy, there's an app out there
For all you want to do
Even things you do not like
There's apps for those things too

So, now, in summation
Listen close to me
There's an app out in the ether
You can download it for free

If you want to buy your groceries
Get a girlfriend, buy a cat
You can always know that somewhere
That there's an app for that.

There's a rumour goin' round
That you might or might not've said
I know it's just a rumour
But, it's running circles in my  head

You know a town of our size
Rumours travel through like fire
You're ****** if your involved in one
You say you're not, and you're a liar

There's a rumour flying here about
Of what I may have said
In response to the first rumour
That's just running round my head

I'm not sure if I said it
You see I'm not too sure
But, the rumour is I said it
Is it the truth or something more?

I remember playing telephone
As a kid, way back in school
When someone told you something
And you told the next person as a rule

The game was all a jumble
As the first phrase got all changed
It was my first  time hearing rumours
And how words are re-arranged

There's a rumour flying round the town
Of what you may have done
I hope that I was with you
It sounded like such fun

But, knowing how our town of ours
Can make a rumour fly
I'll not know If it was with me
Until the day I die

There's a rumour flying round the town
I think you may have heard
But, you will not hear a peep from me
Not one **** single word

There's a rumour....