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Can you feel the excitement
There's a tingle in the air
There's gonna be a party
We just don't know where

The week is almost over
It's Friday and that means
There's gonna be a party
So break out them old jeans

Party Time is here tonight
The band is hot, the beer's on ice
Party Time is here tonight
It's party time y'all

The phone lines are all buzzing
Tweets are flying super fast
There's gonna be a party
Who knows how long it'll last

There's dancing and there's drinking
There's music by the band
It's our weekly celebration
We never know what's planned

Party Time is here tonight
The band is hot, the beer's on ice
Party Time is here tonight
It's party time y'all
Sitting in a dance club
Looking for a score
When I saw her from a distance
She had just walked in the door
My glasses were beer clouded
and my eyes they were the same
I had to know this woman
I had to know her name

She got closer and I saw her
Hair like the setting sun
Jeans out of a country song
I knew she was the one
She made her way up to me
Sat down and turned to me
I had taken off my glasses
All the better so to see....

****, I couldn't get that drunk
There's not enough beer here for me
I saw her face and then I thought
I'd poke my eyes out not to see

It was my first day in college
I made it to my class, but late
I chose a seat behind a redhead
Who..I thought I'd like to date
She had a figure I could follow
She smelled as fresh as morning dew
You can guess just what I'm thinking
And just what I'd like to do

The professor asked a question
I answered and got it wrong
Then she stood on up to answer
She had those jeans on from a song
She answered and I heard her
A voice as shrill as chalkboard screech
My ***** went up inside me
To a place a doctor couldn't reach


****, I couldn't get thank drunk bud
With a voice that could cut glass
There's not enough beer in this small town
To even try to make a pass

I was working at the library
No idea on what to write
My whole year was failing
I would be here for the night
Two tables up I saw her
Brunette and dressed in blue
I got up to walk on by her
You know, just like I was want to do

I approached and she turned quickly
Her hair was flying everywhere
Then her blue eyes locked upon me
And in my mind she stripped me bare
She was not one you'd remember
She was plain, to state a fact
All I noticed was her staring
And you know I just stared back

I'm sorry I misjudged her
Superficial ruled my world
Now, I've come to know her deeper
And you know she's now my girl

To judge someone is petty
If appearance is all you see
You'll miss finding your life's treasure
If you don't learn how to see
Looks can fade and over time
You'll go deaf so you can't hear
And with your weak and feeble bladder
You won't be drinking that much beer !!
Land is disappearing
ok, farms to be exact
swallowed up by cities
they're gone, and that's a fact
developers are buying
what the farmers now will sell
for the subdivision builders
who are waiting at the well

standing in a parking lot
of what used to be a farm
I remember corn and animals
and I remember a red barn
now, it is a big box store
selling food from somewhere else
grown in little laboratories
from little dishes on a shelf

there used to be a farm right here
a place that grew our food
we knew what we were buying
now we don't and we are *******
the big box stores keep coming
and they're starting to intrude
we once had farms and churches
now we don't and we are *******

I remember driving out of town
twenty minutes at the most
you'd pass by at least four farms
now the farmland is the host
to development and wind farms
No parks, just urban sprawl
no fields of cows and horses
just another **** strip mall

There used to be a farm here
it was sold to pay the tax
it was auctioned off in silence
behind the farmers backs
no more farms or farmers
no more barns with painted names
just big houses with no back yards
where you don't know your neighbors names

there used to be a farm right here
a place that grew our food
we knew what we were buying
now we don't and we are *******
the big box stores keep coming
and they're starting to intrude
we once had farms and churches
now we don't and we are *******
The young boy wrote his Christmas Cards
Wrote his name as neatly as he knew
He put the ones aside to take to school
And in his bedroom he hid two

These cards were special for the boy
One was for his Uncle, one was for his dad
The cards just had to reach them
And here's the plan he had..

He knew that mail to Santa Claus
Made it up to the North Pole
But, he wasn't sure just how his card
Would reach his fathers soul

You see, the boys dad and his Uncle
were taken by an IED
They'd both been gone two years now
Since the  boy was only three

He visited the cenotaph
In the park, most every day
He'd stop and he'd salute it
And then he'd go and play

It was a gentle hi to both of them
For he knew that at this place
He could feel them staring down on him
Though he'd forgotten his dad's face

He took the cards down to the park
And he left them by a wreath
Left over from November
He laid his two cards underneath

A man was walking past the boy
And he saw the boy salute
But, he also saw the Christmas cards
And he thought the whole thing cute

He waited for the boy to leave
And he opened one to read
It said  "Merry Christmas" , "Thank You"
"I miss you, yes indeed"

The man went to the nearest school
to ask about the lad
To find out if this one young boy
Was a student that they had

A teacher overheard his tale
And called the man in for a talk
At the end she sat there crying
She had to go out for a walk

She went to find his teacher
Told the tale of this young man
Then between them they sat down and
They both devised a plan

The next day when the class began
Christmas Cards they would write
Each one was for a soldier
And to them this just seemed right

They would set up a class field trip
To see the vets up on the hill
In the special Veterans Hospital
to the kids, this was a thrill

The hospital was telephoned
And the vets were set to meet
Miss Johnson and Miss Watson's class
To get their Christmas treat

The kids were dressed in sunday best
Like they were a month ago
But, this time it was different
This time there would be snow

Each card said "Merry Christmas"
All said thank you, some were sad
To think this project started with
A card left for a dad

After all was done and dusted
The kids continued on
They went down to the cenotaph
To give more cards to those now gone

The story made it through the school
And each day another class
Wrote Christmas cards to soldiers
And they delivered them en-masse

By the action of a little boy
who wasn't locked to a computer
He started a tradition
this young boy, the saluter.
Please read "The Saluter", if you haven't already to get an idea of who this young boy in the poem is.
The young boy walked on through the park

His mother close behind

But then he took off swiftly, though

She knew that she would find

Him standing at the Cenotaph

Saluting, ramrod straight

He did it everytime they passed

No matter what the date

He knew that is was honorable

A place to honur those

Who died defending what was right

And every time he froze.

Each time they went to ride the swings

He ran ahead to stand

He did it, and she was proud he did

Though he didn't understand

A silent sentinel...piegeon perch

Memorialized the dead

There were pigeons all around it

And two piegeons on the head

But Billy didn't mind the birds

In fact he liked to say

The piegeons are the soldier men

Who can no longer play

He always walked around all sides

Always looking for the names

Of his father and his uncle

Bill and Randy James

They were taken by an IED

Though that meant nothing to Bill

But each time that  he found their names

He then saluted and stood still

He knew that they would not return

Although gone, their names were here

He saluted them each time he came

Of the pigeons, he'd no fear

This silent, solemn cenotaph

Was a place he loved so much

Although he couldn't see his father

His name plate he could touch

He knew that his saluting

Made his mother's heart strings sing

After his silent hello to his dad

He could go play on the swing...
I changed a few Christmas' back
From a grinch to a believer
I realized one special day
Santa Claus was not a deceiver
I was working at my job one day
Playing Santa for the staff
Confounding all the customers
And making children laugh
Not many knew that it was me
Dressed as Santa Claus that day
And it changed the way I acted
I had carte blanche to play
Wearing the suit is not a task
It's an honor to be sure
It brings out your inner Christmas
And it opens up a door
A door to something buried
Cynicism, of man's greed
Wear a Santa Suit and you
Will get all the faith you need
A child had been watching me
I'd been watching her some too
She came and said "I don't believe"
She said "It's because I am a Jew"
I must admit this startled me
So I got down on one knee
I said "You may not believe in Christmas"
"But, I'm sure you believe in me"
I gave the girl a candy cane
For, I knew she wanted that
And the suit brought out my Inner Claus
It pulled some magic from it's hat
I said "do you believe in what you see"
She said she did, I'd sealed the deal
I held my hand for her to touch
"And my hand, does it feel real?"
She smiled and she said it did
Then I laughed at her because
The look that spread across her face
said "You are, you are Santa Claus"
At this point her brother came
And said "It's just some one in a suit"
I must admit, I wanted to just
give this lad a boot
I gave the girl two candy canes
One for her and for her brother
I told her to say it's from me
When they checked out with their Mother
She hugged me, said "I know you're real"
And she gave me one hug more
And when she went to find her mum
I left through a secret door
I stood and watched the little girl
give the candy to her brother
She said it was from Santa Claus
To the consternation of her mother
He turned around to look for me
But, I was not around
I'd left you see, and was watching him
To him I'd not be found
The look I saw upon his face
When he noticed I was gone
Was confusion, for I'd not gone past
Christmas magic had been done
I wore the suit a few more times
And I must admit because
Once you wear the Santa Suit
You are always Santa Claus.
True story of a little girl who won my heart, as I won hers as Santa, and her brother who I made believe..even for a little while.
The invitation had arrived and I was over the moon
It is really quite a mouthful, and it is coming soon
The Second International Gender Non-Specific
Inter-Denominational, from Atlantic to Pacific
Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition

It's been eight years since the first was won by China
It was held in Illinois in a place known as Medinah
Turns out the swimmers used were just not what they seemed
The chinese had a total of nine atheists on their team

So, the time has come to try again and bring it to fruition
The I.G.N.I.D Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition
No date has been decided yet, due to issues with each church
So, even though the invitations out, we're still left in the lurch

Saturday is out because the Jews are all at temple
Sunday, the Christians all must set a good example
Friday, cuts the muslims out for they are at Mosque praying
So we've four days to hold this meet, is what I am now saying

The Chinese team is back again, but the Atheists are out
The team's made up of Christians and two Jews who are devout
Their working on a movement that involves making a cross
The Christian swimmers get it but the Jews don't give a toss

The team from Israel's withdrawn because they are all sitting Shivah
They had a coach drown last week, he hit his head while in the River
The Arabs won't be back, you see they're not interested in the least
They get confused while under water and don't know which way is east

The I.G.N.I.D Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition
Will take place in the New Year, we just need to get permission
The Jews won't swim with Muslims, and the Sikhs are up in arms
Because swimming with their daggers may cause other swimmers harm

But, we've got a great location at the lake up at the park
We can use it when we want to , but it must be after dark
Remember keep an eye out for a poster where you pray
We don't know just when we'll hold it, it may just be today

This is your invitation and the event is coming soon
It is really quite a mouthful, and it'll be held beneath the moon
The Second International Gender Non-Specific
Inter-Denominational, from Atlantic to Pacific
Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition

See you there...
Fourteen months I practiced
Climbing rocks and hillocks too
I was off to see the Seer
On a mountain in Peru
I packed my gear
My ropes and boots
and I set off on my trip
I had brought along
ten pairs of gloves
So I would not lose my grip
The group we had assembled
Had questions for this man
Questions church folk could not answer
And we all hoped he can
Tales of his great insight
Spread from sea to sea
And we were off on an adventure
And he would talk to me
Each seer lived inside a cave
With a pillow and a goat
With the goat hair stuffed his pillow
And the extra for a coat
He never left his mountain
Never came to town for food
He was always free with answers
No matter what his mood
The seer had been a fixture
On the mountain top for years
Over five hundred winters passing
Had meant there'd been eight seers
We climbed upon arrival
It took two days just to reach
The base camp, our new homeland
We would learn and he would teach
The weather cleared on Tuesday
And we ventured out in force
We were bogged down ******* Friday
And we had to leave our horse
Each day the trek was tougher
But, our goal was still in sight
We figured if the weather cleared
We'd be there in one more night
The next day we had made it
We were where the seer had sat
There was a goat, and a small letter
Saying "There's now an app for that"
"Thank you for your interest"
"But, I've set up a new site"
"It's www.seer.com"
"Safe journey home, and have a good good night".
These hands have done it all
They're tough as wire rope
They've fought to defend freedom
They've carried flags of hope

They've wiped away the salty tears
Of a mother, full of pride
They've folded up our nations flag
For a son, with honor, died

They've held a newborn really close
They've birthed a newborn calf
They've taken down a hundred men
And a hundred more, by half

These hands don't represent me
But, these hands have done it all
They've done eight seconds on a bull
And they've broken through a wall

These hands are soft as leather
And as hard as Georgia Clay
What they did so long before
They can not do today

These hand are all arthritic
Crippled up, and full of pain
But,you know these hands would love just once
To grab that rope again

These hands are full of memories
Built for strength, and not for speed
These hands are built to hold you
Even now, that's all I need

These hands, they tell my story
My life, is in these hands
I don't look at them as crippled
I just look and think....These Hands....
These hands have done it all
They're tough as wire rope
They've fought to defend freedom
They've carried flags of hope

They've wiped away the salty tears
Of a mother, full of pride
They've folded up our nations flag
For a son, with honor, died

They've held a newborn really close
They've birthed a newborn calf
They've taken down a hundred men
And a hundred more, by half

These hands don't represent me
But, these hands have done it all
They've done eight seconds on a bull
And they've broken through a wall

These hands are soft as leather
And as hard as Georgia Clay
What they did so long before
They can not do today

These hand are all arthritic
Crippled up, and full of pain
But,you know these hands would love just once
To grab that rope again

These hands are full of memories
Built for strength, and not for speed
These hands are built to hold you
Even now, that's all I need

These hands, they tell my story
My life, is in these hands
I don't look at them as crippled
I just look and think....These Hands....
SANTA'S GETTING OLDER AND HIS EYESIGHT'S NOT SO HOT
HIS MEMORY IS FADING TOO, THERE'S LOTS THAT HE'S FORGOT
LIKE WHERE HE'S BEEN, AND WHERE HE'S TO AND THE THE HELL IS HOME?
AND WHICH WAY IS INUVIK WHEN I TAKE OFF FROM NOME?
THER'S PLACES THAT HE'S BEEN TOO, THAT NOW HE CANN'T FIND
IT'S NOT THAT HE'S FORGETFUL, I THINK HE'S LOST HIS MIND
THE ELVES ALL STAY AWAY FROM HIM WHEN HE'S AROUND BECAUSE
HE'S ALWAYS GOING ON ABOUT THEIR RELATIVES IN OZ
THEY TELL HIM HE'S MISTAKEN AND THAT OZ IS NOT THERE
THAT IT WAS JUST A MOVIE, BUT SANTA DOESN'T CARE
HE SITS AROUND AND MUMBLES AND TALKS ABOUT THE PAST
ABOUT HOW THINGS ARE CHANGING AND KIDS GROW UP SO FAST.
"BEFORE COLUMBUS SHOWED HIS FACE..I HAD THIS THING DOWN PAT"
"I NEVER MISSED DELIVERIES BACK WHEN THE WORLD WAS FLAT"
"THE TIME ZONES HE CREATED WHEN HE PROVED THE WORLD WAS ROUND"
"GET ME HOME TWO HOURS PRIOR TO THE TIME I LEFT THE GROUND"
"I LEAVE AT TWELVE, DO MY TRIP AND I GET HOME AT TEN"
"I CAN'T REMEMBER IF I'VE BEEN...SO, I GO OUT AGAIN"
"WITH ALL THE MAIL THAT I RECIEVE, IT'S GETTING RATHER TOUGH"
"SO LAST YEAR I COMPUTERIZED TO ORGANIZE MY STUFF"
"I DESTROYED ALL MY INFO AND STORED IT ALL ON DISC"
"I LEAPT INTO THE FUTURE AND I TOOK A MAJOR RISK"
"MY ATLASES I TOOK AND BURNED, MY LISTS I RIPPED UP TOO"
"I DIDN'T NEED THESE THINGS NO MORE, NOT WITH MY IPAD2"
"WAY BACK IN MID DECEMBER THE PLUG SLIPPED FROM THE WALL"
"I DIDN'T HAVE A BACKUP, AND SO I LOST IT ALL"
"MY ELVES THEY CANNOT HELP ME, IN FACT THEY SIT AND LAUGH"
"BECAUSE LAST YEAR WHEN I AUTOMATED, I CUT MY STAFF IN HALF"
"IT'S GOING TO TAKE A WHILE, IT MAY BE A FEW YEARS"
"BUT I'LL DELIVER EVERY GIFT WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM SEARS"
"YOU SEE, I'VE GOT A CATALOGUE AND I'LL ORDER FROM THEIR SHELVES"
"WHO CARES IF I GET MY STUFF FROM THEM, OR IF I GET IT FROM MY ELVES?"
"I THANK YOU ALL FOR LISTENING, BUT NOW I'VE GOT TO SCOOT"
"YOU SEE, I DROPPED SOMETHING OFF WRONG AND YOUR GIFT'S IN BEIRUT"
"DON'T WORRY YOU'LL STILL GET IT, JUST CHECK BENEATH YOUR TREE"
"IT MAY TAKE A LITTLE WHILE, BUT I'LL GET IT THERE....YOU'LL SEE!"
Way down south
beneath the line
where stories muddle up
with time
there are some trees

leaves of green
and flowers white
decorate the
southern night
from these trees

branches marked
but not by time
burned out by
jute and knotted twine
from these trees

close your eyes
and think when
these trees
were weapons of the men
these trees

nothing grows
out from the root
of these trees
no strange fruit
on these trees

once the fruit
that hung up here
filled many folks
with mortal fear
of these trees

not apples, pears
grow here today
and no strange fruit
of Billie Holliday...
grow on these trees
I remember quite distinctly
The night the Angel came
Hovering above my field
And calling me by name

Fred, the Angel yelled to me
Waking all my sheep
I yelled "you stupid ****** twit"
I've just got them to sleep

He said a king was born to man
And I must go to see
I said, "I've got these bleating sheep"
I don't do this for free

The angel said follow the star
All the way to Bethlehem
I told him, you must be ****** daft
My next shift starts at ten

I've been around the world a bit
And I've seen a lot of stunts
But this angel hung right in the air
And his wings did not flap once

He said there is a child
And he will be the King of Kings
I didn't really listen much
I was still watching those **** wings

The sheep were going batty
The field was bight as bright could be
I said, of all the shepherds round here
Why did you come wake me?

He said to travel swiftly
And to follow yonder star
I said, I'm off to bed mate
I'm not going on that far

Then there came a bolt of lightning
He had barbecued a ewe
I thought this bird means business
I mean just what could I do?

I left my flock with Charlie
The shepherd two fields over one
And I said I'll be back soon mate
I'm off to see the holy son

I met up with some others
All of us had the same tale
Of an angel flinging lightning
So we all felt we best bail....

I got there in December
I'd been travelling for months
The only thing I thought of
Those wings...did not move once

There inside a manger
behind an inn...full up each day
Was where I saw a vision
I'll remember to my last day

Three wise men dressed in robements
A little kid, and his tin drum
Some donkeys and a camel
The baby Jesus and his mum

Dad, was in the corner
All alone hanging his head
He said "How could this have happened"
"I never left the bed"

I looked upon the baby
And I looked down upon that face
He looked at me and smiled
You could feel a state of grace

I really didn't know then
What I was here to do
But, now I know my task was
To tell everyone I knew

So, I started out on homeward
To tell old Charlie of the kid
I picked him up a present
Yep..that's exactly  what I did

I guess the world must owe me
and this I 'll stand and shout
You could consider my gift to Charlie
Was the first true  gift given out

Now, I sit and watch the sheep here
People come up just to see
The shepherd who started gifting
The shepherd...that is me!!!
No paints and not one canvas
Nothing sellable at all
But, an artist is an artist
With art to share with all

No profit in creations
No way to sell his works
But he creates pieces of magic
With lots of different quirks

His tools are nothing special
Pastels and pieces of old chalk
His canvasses are static
They're the place that people walk

He's a sidewalk chalk pastel artist
With only digital designs
His work goes with the weather
Cracked pavement creates lines

No matter where he travels
He can work when the muse strikes
But, he has to watch out for street walkers
And folks riding through on bikes

His pictures are amazing
Where real life ends you can not tell
But, because there is no canvas
He has nothing to sell

He creates from chalk and pastels
He is an artist just the same
As those with paint and easels
He just plays a different game

Donations are his lifesblood
An empty cup beside him lies
Stand back and be awed by
His artwork before it dies.
I  live on the mountain
Below the silver mist
In the valley, full of magic
Where the sun has rarely kissed

I am called a smudger
I live on what's left behind
I have been here near forever
I'm the last one of my kind

Below the mountain major
Lives a dragon, fierce and bold
Sleeping now, and dreaming
Of it's hoard of stolen gold

Eleventy years plus twenty
I have been here on this earth
Cleaning up the dragons droppings
It's how I justify my worth

The dragon's ruled this mountain
For a thousand thousand years
The silver river that flows through it
Is full of snow melt and of tears

Once a generation
Someone comes from down below
Gets the villagers all riled
Says "The dragon has to go"

They go and fight the dragon
Try to take his hoard of gold
And that is why, it's me the smudger
Who knows how the story must be told

The fighter leaves the village
Full of gusto and incensed
Saying "justice for the village"
or close to that....condensed

The dragon then awakens
Flys around and burns the town
Leaving nothing left but ashes
everything gone or burned down

Now, I, your local smudger
Cleans up the dead and done
It's a profitable existence
Since I am the only one

The dragon knows there's nothing
Much more of value to behold
The villagers were poor folk
Owning neither jewels or gold

I've cleaned up more destruction
Caused by villagers who go
On up to face the dragon
And get killed with just one blow

Now, I make candles with their bodies
I use their skin and body fat
I weave the hair not melted
And I make a nice new front hall mat

The bones I grind and scatter
On the mountain in the trees
It helps the ferns all grow strong
And keeps the trees free from disease

What little money I find
I leave half by the dragons den
Over time I have left there
Money from five thousand men

I've swords I sell at auction
When I travel, but that's rare
There is really nothing for me
That's not near the dragons lair

It's a relationship existing
On destruction and of greed
The dragon burns the village
And I get the things I need

They rebuild and they recover
And a generation may pass by
When once again some young, strong fighter
Wakes the dragon, makes him fly

I guess we need each other
That's the way it's always been
I'm the smudger on the mountain
I'm the one who's never seen
It was December 27th,
Nineteen and fifty one
The day the Christmas  snowball war
Had officially begun
It started in the schoolyard
It was supposed to just be fun
But, by the time the whole thing ended
No one knew just who had won

The grade five class were ready
All lying there in wait
As the kids from home form seven
Approached the schoolyard gate
With a yell the whole thing started
They were served up on a plate
the kids from home form seven
would not forget this date

The air filled with projectiles
Launched from wet gloves by the score
As the victims ran for cover
They were hit by four score more
They were bruised and hurt and battered
As they ran for the school door
Now, the kids from the grade five class
Lay waiting there for more

Two teachers came to stop them
Get them back into the school
but, the kids just launched more snowballs
Using scarves now as a tool
They would catapult their snowballs
which was really, really cool
And the teachers ran for cover
In the safety of the school

They'd built a wall near four feet high
To protect them on both sides
It channeled all who entered
The walls acted as guides
At most their little walkway
Was only eight feet wide
and their victims ran for cover
For the school, a place to hide

It was dark when the attack happened
The form seven kids came back
They'd left the school from the front door
And had now planned their attack
Their first snowball hit it's target
With a loud resounding crack
It was clear that old form seven
Was truly fighting back

The teachers had a huddle
Met inside and chose to fight
They would wait until the battle
Had gone on into night
They would sneak out of the building
With the absence of the light
And attack the grade five children
And show them how to fight

The air was full of snowballs
Bodies, gloves, scarves abound
there were children hitting adults
And there were children on the ground
They'd been at it for six hours
When they heard the alarm bell sound
It was time to get inside for bed
Before the prefects came around

The snowball fight at Wellesley
Public School in fifty one
Is the one that they remember
Out of all of those they've done
In all one hundred people
Were involved in all the fun
For next year they are building
A snowball launching gun!!!
You asked me for a late night drink
You worried just what I might think
I saw you hide the laundry by the sink
As I moved the cat to find the sofa

You said this wasn't really you
As you sat down kicking off your shoes
You said you asked me, what's there to lose
As you moved beside me on the sofa

A good girl, that was what you were
People say "oh no, not her"
I heard the cat again, really loudly purr
As we stretched out on the sofa

I knew that I should rise and leave
A tale like this, who would believe
They would think I was the one who did deceive
As we tumbled from the sofa

I remember how we spent that night
At first it was just stay or flight
I stayed and you know it turned out right
Sixteen years...upon that sofa
A little girl with eyes of blue
You were your mother's prayer
You are your mother's daughter
With ringlets in your hair

But...

Turn the competition up
Turn the volume up to ten
You're a little tomboy
Your dads daughter then...

You can pick a squirrel from a tree
When you wrestle you won't yield
When you go and play at football
You're the best boy on the field
You can tear apart an engine
You act just like your dad
I've got to say my daughter
Is the son I never had

You dress up for your mother
Wear  a dress to go to school
You have manners like no other
And you know the golden rule

But, when the day is over
The dress is off and jeans on quick
Then you grab your rod and tackle box
And take off fishing at the crick

You can pick a squirrel from a tree
When you wrestle you won't yield
When you go and play at football
You're the best boy on the field
You can tear apart an engine
You act just like your dad
I've got to say my daughter
Is the son I never had


You are your mothers princess
You are your daddy's son
But you are our loving daughter
When it counts, and day is done

You make both of us happy
You make both of us proud
You blush when I yell loudly
That's my daughter....really loud

You can pick a squirrel from a tree
When you wrestle you won't yield
When you go and play at football
You're the best boy on the field
You can tear apart an engine
You act just like your dad
I've got to say my daughter
Is the son I never had
I met her many years ago
Not knowing where we'd head
It took a while to find out
Then we ended up in bed

Love is a slow moving thing
Not quite the same as lust
The one it has no feeling
The other, it needs trust

Work it right and you will find
That love will come around
It's just like starting a new path
You hold the grass down to the ground

Like a snail moving a boulder
The speed is not that fast
But, with time and trust you'll learn that
Love will surely last

Love is quite a fragile thing
You can find that in a fight
Love can turn to hate real fast
Hate is the speed of light

So, take your time, be careful
Know which is love or lust
Hate is always waiting
To turn one of them to dust
Better days were in the past
For the bar and all inside
Windows broke and lights burned out
The bar had long since died

Carpets gone and floors all worn
Scorch marks on the wall
Smells of stale beer in the air
the bar had it's last call

Welcome to the Stagger Inn
Good Food and Cold Beer Too
Live bands every single night
And it's air conditioned too
Welcome to the Stagger Inn
A bar befits it's name
We'll take you the way you are
And we're mighty glad you came

The stage was now an eyesore
As was most of what was here
Way back in the corner
Sat a woman with her beer

Hair was streaked with boot black
From a time, who knows when
The bar was dead or dying
As were most in this old den

A few nights folks would still come here
To see the towns old jewel
What once was gold and glistened
Now was just no longer cool

The lady way back in the corner
Hadn't danced since eighty three
Ten times a night she'd go and
Play the jukebox tune  5B

A song about the devil
calling him silver tongued was  her pick
She'd hit the worn out buttons
While giving her  chapped lips a lick

Sitting in the back and nursing
A beer as dead as the bar
On a steady diet of Winstons
That had made her voice as thick as  tar

Welcome to the Stagger Inn
Good Food and Cold Beer Too
Live bands every single night
And it's air conditioned too
Welcome to the Stagger Inn
A bar befits it's name
We'll take you the way you are
And we're mighty glad you came


Maybe fifteen people came here
When the other places were full
You could see the worn out tiles
Where there once was a mechanical bull

Trends were never big here
Though they tried a few to survive
The bar was dead and dying
Housing folks who now were barely alive

The last band that they had here
Was a cover group from down in NC
They didn't last the evening
Getting out done by  old 5B

The woman in the corner
With the boot black streak of wild
closed her eyes and listened
To the memories she had compiled

If you ever choose to come here
I don't think you'll stay long
But, I know you'll hear a singer
Talk of the devil in that 5B song

The door is always open
At the dead and dying Stagger Inn
A place that still lives through the ages
And the folks remembering what might have been

Welcome to the Stagger Inn
Good Food and Cold Beer Too
Live bands every single night
And it's air conditioned too
Welcome to the Stagger Inn
A bar befits it's name
We'll take you the way you are
And we're mighty glad you came
Apple pie and hunting ducks
rusty, worn out pick up trucks
tales of being out of luck
The story's in the song

Broken hearts and drinking beer
Friday nights, the weekend's here
Strong enough to shed a tear
The story's in the song

The story's in the song my friends
The story's in the song
If you can not hear the tale
I've told the story wrong
The story's in the song my friends
The story's in the song
Listen close and you will find
The story's in the song

Driving on a red dirt road
Carrying a heavy load
Living to a cowboy's code
The story's in the song

Backroad driving in the dark
Pick up games down at the park
Memories that leave a mark
The story's in the song

The story's in the song my friends
The story's in the song
If you can not hear the tale
I've told the story wrong
The story's in the song my friends
The story's in the song
Listen close and you will find
The story's in the song
Gilhooley had ordered a meeting
Everyone had to come round
St. Patricks day will be upon us
And a venue just has to be found

We have to find somewhere authentic
Our normal old pub just won't do
We can't celebrate with the punters
Where the beer isn't green, it's dyed blue

Gilhooley awaited suggestions
It had to be somewhere close by
There were all sorts of names on the table
So they decided to give them a try

It needed to be "somewhat old Irish"
with no dee jay, and a folky type band
they had to have red headed women
And a barman, with drinks poured and at hand

The first place they went was McKenna's
It seemed like a great place at first
but the service was slower than treacle
and a man would just die here of thirst

They found one that looked rather Irish
It was known as the new *** of gold
it had a rainbow outside on the awning
this should have been a warning fortold

the next one they tried was a classic
The green and gold tavern....a hit
but, it was booked on the day for a party
and this didn't please them one bit

they finally found one to their liking
full of guineess and pretty colleens
a punjabi bar by the  name of  ben doury's
where everything was curried and green

it was a party that no one remembered
that meant that it must have been good
nobody went to the jailhouse
even though three or four of them should

The beer and the curry were epic
the singing was like nothing we'd heard
a sitar and cymbal based trio
played so loud that nothing was heard

Gilhooley said next year we have to
come back here and do it again
It was the best St. Patty's ever
most of them passed out by ten

The next time you go out to party
call Ben Doury, the place is  spot on
the food and the beer are one colour
with a Punjabi Mumbai Leprachaun
Another dark day in this dismal old place
Snow clouds were moving in fast
The sky was so dark, and the wind had a chill
This was a storm that was sure gonna last

At Cy's, The Old Pawn Shop was empty except
For Cy and the stores old dog Gruff
The storm was en route and Cy figured that this
Was a good time to go through the stuff

Years of memories, years of tall tales
They were all on the shelves in this store
There was all sorts of jewellery, tvs and clothes
And in the back was at least 40 years more

The door opened sharp and the bell startled Cy
He was checking the watches and clocks
A young man came in, dressed all in black
Cy said "push hard or the **** thing don't lock"

The young man was tall, about six two I'd say
Cy had never seen him before in his life
He'd said "Sir, I've an offer, you can take or can leave"
"And it's the best one you've had all your life"

Cy looked at the man, intrigued though he was
He said "Sit, and I'll put on some tea"
He went to the door, checked the oncoming storm
And then he put the sign up..."BE BACK AT 3"

They sat and they talked, and they laughed as the wind
Blew the snow up against the front door
Cy pulled out some books, went and made some more tea
Then the man left and left Cy in the store.

Later that night, under cover of darkness
The man came on back with a truck
Cy opened up, and with Gruff by his side
They watched as the man quickly loaded the truck

Two days had passed, and the whole town was white
The storm closed the town for a day
The streets were a mess and the schools were all closed
And the kids had the day off to play

On the third day, the town, woke up almost as one
With people phoning up Cy's by the score
For as they all left for work, there all wrapped up in brown
Was a box, sitting by their front doors

Jim, was the first, opened his box outside
Saw the watch that he pawned with Old Cy
Gianni, and Mike, and others as well
Received items they'd pawned by  and by

In total you see, almost 200 folks
Opened boxes paid off that dark night
Christmas was early for folks in the town
Given by a young man, who'd done right

Cy gave the names of the people he knew
Even though it was against the Pawn shop man's creed
He'd loaned out the money in interest free loans
To these folks that he knew were in need

About  five thirty that day, the young man returned
Cy and old Gruff were waiting inside
They spoke how his stunt was a universal success
And at this, they both laughed till they cried

The man rose from his seat, shook Cy by the hand
Cy asked "Why did you come here?"
The man answered "I'm here after my Mum"
"Her names Mary, and I heard she serves beer"
I said "The Street" poems were done, but I thought....I needed to keep them alive, so here is a tale bringing in Cy (The Pawn Shop) and Mary (The Bartender) back into play. Read them along with the others to refresh yourself with the street. It could be interesting now that Mary's son is back, the son the town didn't know about.
Twenty two years had passed  by

She blinked, and a lifetime had passed

She started this job as a lark

She never thought it would last

Two husbands and rehab were part of this bar

The husbands...her clients all knew

But the rehab, was hers...and hers all alone

Only one in her family knew

She'd been tending bar here for 3 presidents plus

Two popes, two husbands....one queen

There were things in this bar that were secreted away

There were things just not meant to be seen

Say, 4 fights a week for 22 years

That's four thousand six hundred fights

That's more violent acts than one person should see

That's  a lot of just mind numbing sights

As a tender of bar, she was part doctor as well

Serving drinks, and giving advice

She was hit on as well, and most she turned down

But some, they succeeded....some twice

They would come with their problems

spill their guts to this girl

Who they'd probably just met that night

They would tell her their problems and drink a few ales

When they  left, they would be feeling all right

But, Mary...poor Mary would harbour their pain

She'd help them, but could not let things go

They'd cheer up with her talking and 1 or 2 beers

But she hurt, and would leave feeling low

There was always a someone on the tales other end

Who was home, maybe beaten or mad

But, Mary....she talked to the one who'd come out

And she always left feeling quite sad

The stories they told her, she never asked them to tell

But they came and they opened on up

And she as their hostess just listened and served

Whle they sat there, getting full in their cups

She married two men that she met in the bar

Both left wives, and poor Mary was blind

They both charmed this girl, till she was way too far gone

And she learned that love..yes, was blind

She had a young niece, that her sister had left

She was going to school here in town

If there was one person alive who could bring Mary up

Her niece Amber was the proverbial clown

After marrying twice and divorcing just once

Mary vowed not to do it again

But, she was hit on each night

in this bar Down the lane,

by a considerable number of men

Her first husband...a lout, for better want of a term

Was a drunkard, and jealous most days

But she fell for him hard, for his sad tale of woe

And her marriage lasted 91 days

He would come in each night after finishing work

And would berate her for flirting for tips

After leaving the bar, he would beat her at home

Hitting low, just above Mary's hips

Her boss saw her marks whens she was filling the fridge

He kept quiet, but he told her to call

A friend that he had, who would help Mary out

He knew her marks were not from a fall

Before Mary phoned she had incredible news

Her husband had been in a crash

Her problems were over and her bruises would heal

And it all happened ...****...in a flash

During this time her sister ran off

Leaving Amber for Mary to raise

Though she hated her sister for leaving

Dear Amber she loved, and she helped Mary get through the days

But eight years along, with no outlet in sight

Hearing tales and of other folks pain

Mary reached out and she found comfort in

A needle and a rock of *******

for three years she spiked, shooting up every day

spending money she stole from the till

And during this time, she got married again

He seduced her when she had no self will

He knew of her problem and joined in all the same

Just a leech come along for the ride

He would help keep her secret, never telling her boss

Never letting them know she was fried.

Poor Amber found out, she walked in one June day

there was Mary with her coke and her spoon

When she looked at young Amber, she knew she must quit

And she knew that she must do it soon

Pure heartbreak she saw in that little girls eyes

She could see how she thought she would lose

Her Aunt like her mother, gone from her life

Mary knew she would now have to choose

Rehab was chosen, and her husband he left

He found out that this train had now stopped

his free ride was over, his meal ticket gone

You could say that his bubble had popped

Two years clean celebrated, at the bar with the kid

Mary got some good news from her boss

He was retiring to Texas and was selling the bar

And he would sell it to her at a loss

She was now the proud owner of a bar all her own

Three doors down from Giannis on Hope

She would run it precisely, the way she'd been taught

She would run the bar clean, free from dope

She would meet some great people,

Some nights in for a drink

And others that she wished would just leave

She would listen to stories, some good some not quite so much

And others just to  hard to believe

She would make friends with some people  And others she'd ban,

making sure that they left with a start

She'd befriend Harry Cooper, the World War two vet

Who would imprint his soul on her heart

And Amber...yes Amber would come down to spend time

She was fine and was going to school

She was a classical ****** in the dark of her room

And I tell you this girl was just cool

Mary brought Amber up with morals and faith

She would come when her Aunt made the call

She would rather hang out at the bar every night

Than to go with her friends to the mall

Mary made peace with the demons she had

She could leave the folks tales and go home

But, now she had Amber and a reason to live

And she would not have to do it alone

the bar's past Giannias, three doors  down to the right

It's not large but she makes  it make do

There's some music out back from a bluesman as well

Come on down and be one of the few

Be a regular there, join up with the crowd

It's not big but the beer's always cold

You don't have to stay long, but you'll come back again

For it's special....or so I've been told

Tell Mary I sent you, you'll get a free drink

And a free ear to hear of your tale

But, leave your ciggies outside for you can't smoke in here

You can do it outside by the pail.
Phone calls were made, meetings were held and the new group was set to get started

There was lots to be learned and so little time for the lessons to all be imparted

The plan was immense, it was larger this time and the time was going by fast

They would all act as one, getting everything done and their goal was to not finish last

It was done every year, in the schools through the town, it was something the kids all enjoyed

But this year was tough, with all the closings and stuff and the fact there was more unemployed

Each school was set up to blitz through the town and to collect all the food that they can

But with more on the list and those who would surely be missed were the ones who set last years plan

Team leaders were picked in each group at the school, and their job was to get this all done

And to beat last years tote by at least one more pound and to make sure that it was all fun

Pep rally's were held to get the students involved and help motivate those involved

But with more needing help and less firms out to help, they had problems they had to get solved

On December the first, the kids all set out ringing bells in the malls and the stores

From there they would go with buses and trucks and collect food by knocking on doors

The school who did best bringing in the most pounds would be win a cup and awards

But to all those concerned, they had to get out and blanket the town in great hoards

People backed out from tasks all assigned, It was cold and they had too much to do

There was homework as well, and jobs on the side and alot wouldn't see the task through

But they all persevered and the food all came in, cans and boxes and crates and in bags

There was food left at school from donators unknown, just good wishes all written on tags

The goal was to raise an amount more than last and to do it in twenty two days

The total to date was behind just a bit but there was still time to make this year pay

So with one last great push the students went out and they held one last drive at the mall

If they collect one more ton, then all would be done and they could all know they answered the call

On Christmas Eve morn the principals met and they said they had all reached their goals

They shook all their hands and they stuck out their chests for they knew that they'd fulfilled their roles

The students were told at assemblies too, and the food was dropped off through the town

They had beat last years numbers by about fifty pounds even though they all thought they'd be down

So for all those they helped for the one day that month, where they had Christmas dinner and laughter

Was brought  back to earth by one voice in one school, who asked "What would these families eat the day after?"
.
It's not a long walk from the chapel to the bench

It's a peaceful walk along the gravel trail

You can look out in the distance, past the cliffs out to the sea

And on most days you can even see a sail

There's a gentle scent of heather on the trail as you walk by

It's so calming as it works upon my mind

I've seen so many places as I've travelled on this earth

And this one is one time has left behind.

There's a small tree standing near the cliff just a little  further up

It has blossoms that blow down onto the shore

You can sit by it and wonder as the blossoms filter down

How much beauty can one's senses yet endure?

The grass is green as ever, like it's painted and not grown

But it smells just as fresh as fresh can be

With all these scents and visions here impacting on my mind

And this view that's just a beach and the blue sea

There's no one else around here as I sit silent on the bench

And that's nice for it gives us time to talk

There's birds out in the distance making noises in the air

And I can listen as they fly about and squak

The flowers by the path edge almost hide among the ferns

You can see them but you're not so sure they're there

The grounds are so pure perfect, that you can't believe their real

They are something, in a place so truly rare,

You can hear music in the background from the Church back up the path

At a volume that just says "I am here"

It's an extra added bonus to this sweet pastoral scene

Like Brigadoon, I feel soon  will disappear

The fog is rolling in now and the tide is coming too

There's clouds there and I haven't got much time

But, I'll stay a little longer sitting quiet on the bench

To not share this with another truly is a crime,

I think I'll take my leave now and start on out for home

It's really nice here and I know you'd like the view

I'll be back again tomorrow to chat some more again

All that's missing is sharing this with you

So, I'll leave these garden flowers on your stone here by the bench

They're for you dear, now I hear the waves crash on the shore,

We will speak again tomorrow when I come by once again

For dear I miss you and  I will forever more.
Daily walks would lead me down

The tourist laden streets

Where people from all walks of life

Would congregate and meet

Buskers, singers, ne'er do wells

Would work throughout the throngs

But in back of Giannis restaurant

Sat an old man sharing songs

He didn't sing so much as talk

His voice was hoarse with age

But a milk box and an orange crate

Were his table, chair and stage

His instrument, an old guitar

Scarred, battle worn and black

His guitar strap was as old as he

An old potato sack

He sat and played to nobody

He just let the words be there

His audience could be a hundred deep

Sometimes it could be air

His music was his lifes blood

It was everything he had

So he shared it with the people

And the people....they were glad

The tourists, stayed away though

They were more attracted by the flair

Of the buskers and the jugglers

Not this man who wasn't there

He never left to join the crowd

And to sell his songs to those

Who really wanted nothing more

Than to hear some manufactured prose

The people who he played to

Were just others from the street

They worked the bars and restaurants

And at night they'd find a seat

In front of this old bluesman

Sitting by his orange box

Playing his guitar by candle light

Taking in his songs and talks

He sang songs from the heart, I guess

About those who'd he'd met

He'd sing about a dozen songs

That would constitue a set

Then he'd open up his silver flask

And ******* two gulps down

"This here's just my medicine"

"My past lives just to drown"

He sang of Truck Stop Beauty Queens

And of Walks out in the park

He sang of people living life

Not just hiding in the dark

He sang of things so real you'd see

Their pictures in your mind

He'd sing of places and of things

That others would not find

But tourists, they just stayed away

Near the buskers blowing fire

While yards away this old man sat

Just like an old town cryer

His audience would leave a bit

of change for their free show

He never asked for anything

For this was his row to ***

At two though when the street shut down

He closed his show down too

But he always had an extra song

A special one for you

His music came from in his heart

He shared it without fear

For once it left his throat it was

A sound that was so dear

The tourists went to hotels

Once the buskers all went home

But he just moved his crate and box

He slept out here alone

He sang his songs of characters

Who helped make us his life

His words were sometimes gentle

While others cut you like a knife

His world was just that orange crate

And his music helped unfurl

The melodies in this mans mind

It helped him share his world

He knew some things and people that

Would take rather than give

He sang about the street people

Because among them he did live

His home was just a cardboard box

Behind Giannis bar

And if you want to see a real good show

You don't have to go far

It's just a little beaten path

Away from tourist fare

Where this little, old, shy

Bluesman sings to hundreds or the air..
Jim Brady was a local man
His life was non-descript
He was not on local radar
In fact, he was a blip
He moved around but no-one knew
Just who Jim Brady was
they knew not where he came from
They didn't know his flaws
He worked under the table
He wasn't on the grid
But of all the money that Jim made
He gave most to his kids
He worked nights at Giannis
In the kitchen, ***** stuff
He cleaned up after closing
The work here...it was tough
But Jim, worked hard and honest
Earned his money every day
And Gianni, as a favour
Off the records he would pay
Jim Brady was a soldier
He was broken...and no good
But Gianni, saw his life light
And he did what all men should
He gave Jim work and fed him
Kept him clean and made a life
For Jim had come home injured
But it was internal strife
Jim's mind was torn and tattered
Simple thoughts could cause him pain
Jim Brady was a soldier
But would never serve again
He had trouble with his anger
He was not quite in control
But Gianni saw a soldier
Who needed help out of a hole
Gianni ran a restaurant
Been there for 30 years
He helped all those who knew him
Through the smiles and the tears
He housed the ones who needed
Just to get off of the streets
He fed the tired and hungry
And he performed other feats
Gianni was a hero
To all in this poor town
He would never turn a man away
If he knew that he was down
When Jim came in one evening
Gianni read his face
He said "Son, I'll help you"
"And you're now working in this place"
Jim lived by the water
The noises kept him calm
But on nights of wild weather
He stay at Giannis, nice and warm
Loud noises brought the nightmares
Put the pictures in his head
Of the IED explosion
And of his three companions dead
He went to get some treatment
But the VA said "You're fine"
"there's more important cases
than just you out in the line"
He was shuffled home to start again
A damaged, broken man
But with issues like poor Jim did have
He tried as one man can
His marriage broke down quickly
His wife was not to blame
But Jim came home with issues
And the **** war was to blame
He looked for help at every turn
But no-one would help out
Until he met Gianni
Jim's new hero I won't doubt
He gave him work and money
Jim then gained some self esteem
He wasn't Jim the soldier
But, you could see who he had been
His pride was back, his head was high
But still he had the dreams
There was nothing that they knew of
To alleviate the screams
But Gianni, still the hero
Thought "I know what might just work"
He introduced Jim to The Bluesman
He also has a minor quirk
The Bluesman as you seem to know
Lives out behind and plays
His music in the alley
Where he spends most of his days
Gianni helped The Bluesman
Maybe he could now help Jim
It could be The Bluesman's music
Might just be right for him
Most nights when Jim was working
He'd leave the window open some
Just to let Bluesman's music
Find the kitchen . make Jim hum
Jim liked The Bluesman's music
It painted pictures in his head
But this time they were joyful ones
Not pictures of the dead
They helped him come to terms with things
That made his life a mess
They did what others couldn't do
His problems were addressed
With Gianni and The Bluesman
Jim moved on and did quite well
Funny how a restauranteur
And music man could bring Jim back from hell.
She was a friend of Amber Clark
You know, you've met her before
She's the girl who listens secretly
To Bach behind the door
The Closet Classic ******
Who wears shirts of the Ramones
But listens to Rachmaninov
whenever she's alone

Jennifer McSweeney
known by all upon the street
She had kind words for everyone
She liked everyone she'd meet
She ate meals at Giannis
Knew the Pawnbroker, Old Cy
She listened to the bluesman
Whenever she came by

Like all the folks upon the street
Jennifer was dark
Not gothic, but you could say grey
She was set to make her mark
She was going to be famous
Her face upon the Silver Screen
She was going to be a movie star
Like The Truck Stop Beauty Queen

Jennifer loved movies
Not the ones that can be found
At the local dvd store
She liked the movies without sound
Her little quirk was that she
Liked the movies from the start
They told tales in black and white
These were strong in Jenni's heart

Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd
Fatty Arbuckle, and more
Zasu Pitts, Charlie Chase
They struck her to her core
L and H, The Keystone Kops
She loved to see them grapplin'
But none of these compared to her
deep love for Charlie Chaplin

The Cineplex would show a film
They would host a special week
When silent movies were the shows
When nobody did speak
Jennifer would take the time
To watch each film they showed
She was so happy when the week came round
She positively glowed

The kids she knew, all thought her odd
Because of what she liked
But, when the silent week was here
Jennifer was psyched
One year she went to the next town
To get a small tattoo
It was all done up in black and grey
It was what she had to do

Like other girls who have been inked
It was in the same place
But, it was little, very non descript
Of her favorite actors face
She told few friends about it
And though she never did get violent
If you laughed at her tattoo
Like Chaplin, she'd be silent

She kept it to herself most times
Her little bit of ink
As she aged she'd show it more
For the cost of just one drink
She would take them to her bedroom
And by the light of her small lamp
She would show her tattoo proudly
Chaplin....her little ***** stamp

It's the thing that she is known for
She's the girls with Charlie's face
Where others all have Chinese Words
She has Chaplin in this place
She is known for loving movies
In black and white, and though it's camp
She gives a whole new meaning to
Having a ***** stamp.
The clouds hid the red sky that day
Amid the wind and rain
No red sky meant no sailors warning
The waves broke high and hard
They passed the breakers and the kegs
They missed the red sky morning

The ships out on the water
From the shore to the Grand Banks
Were helpless in the coming storm
No choice to turn and run
The best bet was stay put
There was no port to get warm

The skies were filled with nothingness
the clouds like a sharks eye
Shades of black were all they saw
The icy waves of winter
Broke the calm of the early morn
For red sky in the morning is an unwritten sailors law

The Captain closed the bar down
On the Digby ferry crossing
The doors were being opened by each wave
They couldn't see the white caps
Only sky and see was all
And the souls he had to save

There were fifteen boats in transit
When the storm came bearing down
Most were halfway home or so
Now they all were stranded
In the journey between heaven and hell
Which direction they were headed only God would know

Turn sideways and you'd flip it
Just sit still and you were dead
You had to ride the water hellish ride
Hatches all were battened
Windows sealed and doors shut tight
Sailors tried to stay inside

Water spouts were forming
Off the stern and then the port
Navigate the safest spot and keep low
The door to Davy Jones' locker
Was opened and ready to accept
Any boat who made the choice to venture down below

On shore the coast guard were all scrambled
Planes were sent out just in case
More to recover than to save
Families awaited word by radio
The lines from all the ships were down
Some lost to a watery grave

Each year the ocean opens up
Mother Nature takes some back
It's just the circle of life at sea
Prayers are said at the Mariners Hall
Bells are rung for the dead
The sailors soul belongs to the water and it never can be free

Are you one that lives on water?
You know one day your luck will end
You knew this fact from the start
Sailors know the sea's a minefield
It's a war with God each day
You have to fight with all your heart
Billy Flynn looked skyward
As the fire slowly died
The embers dancing gaily
They had a hard days ride

He looked down at the fire
At the coals and their red glow
"Better get them horses covered"
"The clouds are bringing snow"

From the back a voice was heard
"You sure, you crazy coot"
He looked to where the voice had come
And he lit up a cheroot

"As sure as we're all sitting here"
"Tomorrow, we'll see snow"
"So, get them horses covered"
"We'll want them warm when we must go"

They'd been out on the trail for months
Now, home was in their thoughts
They'd been hunting down some rustlers
Now, all but two were caught

The two were shot in Texas
In a shoot out first week in
The others caught in Reno
Nearly 21 weeks in

Billy poked the fire
And he said "best keep it hot"
"someone get some wood here"
"I suggest you get a lot"

They finished up their dinners
Billy said we'll leave 'fore dawn
There's someone out there watching
A quick rest, and we'll be gone

He set two cowpokes watching
Tending fire in the night
Watching for intruders
And keeping out of sight

Billy Flynn was old school
A Texas Ranger long ago
If anyone was closing in
Old Billy Flynn would know

"I'm resting now" old Billy said
"I'd suggest you do the same"
"Get the prisoners to the side there"
"To lose them now would be a shame"

He checked on all the horses
Made sure their blankets were pulled tight
Then Billy, grabbed his blanket
And he laid down for the night

In the morning, the ground was covered
It had snowed, three inches plus
The others all were watching
Billy Flynn....he made no fuss

"I could feel it in the air boys"
"The sky was screaming snow"
"I've been out here more than you have"
"That's all you gotta know"

They ate and broke camp quickly
They heard some noises to their right
The men that they had captured
Had friends show up late last night

They were keeping back a distance
Watching, waiting for their chance
While Billy Flynn showed nothing
And helped prolong the dance

"Boys, you'd best get ready"
"There'll be a shoot out sometime soon"
"I figure they'll be coming at us"
"In the open...round 'bout noon"

"Keep an eye around you"
"Move the prisoners to the flank"
"Protect yourself from whatever"
"These men have left in their dry tank"

Billy called it perfect
About five hours on the ride
Six gunmen came upon them
Three came in from either side

Billy took the first one,
Shot him dead, between the eyes
The youngster back behind him
Had never seen a grown man die

It only took two minutes
Thirty seven shots in all
And in the end there was old Billy
Off his horse and standing tall

The six were dead and bleeding
"We'll leave them to the birds"
Two of Billy's men were wounded
And he'd almost lost a third

Two hours on they came to town
Billy Flynn was in the lead
He stopped to get some water
That was all Billy would need

He took his prisoners to the Jailhouse
And his charges to the Doc
Then he went on to the tavern
Ordered drinks from barkeep ****

This talks of Billy Flynn
And true old western tale
Just hope you never ever
Have old Billy on your trail

Billy drank his beer and walked away
He said "It's time for me to go"
"the clouds are saying one thing"
"But, watch out....we're in for snow".
My boy said "dad, we need to talk"
"There's something you should know"
I thought I know just what he'll say
Let's see where this talk goes

I'd practiced in the bedroom
What I'd say when this time came
How I'd use big words like respectful
But, it still sounded kind of lame

He said "Dad. I've lived a secret life"
"I've been in the closet for some years"
I swallowed, and I tried to speak
But, I was fighting back the tears

He'd always dressed ....well different
A little flashier than most
It was a good thing Ma was gone
Or...this boy...he would be toast

He said "Dad, I like Willie"
I felt myself go weak and shake
"In fact I like Johnny too"
I knew we'd made a big mistake

We took him to a broadway show
When the boy was only ten
Now, here he's liking Willie
And he's now, well...one of them

"Paisley"..."that's a favorite"
Why couldn't he just like blue?
"Sugarland"....that's a given
what the hell was I to do?

When he said "Don't worry"
"It's not as bad as it may seem"
I thought my son likes Willie
This is surely a bad dream

I knew the talk was trouble
It was the same back with my Dad
But, when you hear 'bout Johnnies willie
Well, this talk was going bad

I sat down and I smiled
I said "you know I love you all the same"
"But., there never was a sign at all"
"it's all on me....I take the blame"

He said "it's not that big a deal"
I thought ...he must be nuts
But nuts, well he'd like them too
But, the boy...he has some guts

I told him I'd support him
And would accept his lifestyle choice
He said, "Dad. what do you mean?"
I said...i accept that you like boys

He laughed and said, "you're wrong there"
He laughed...was nearly sick
I'm telling you ....though it is hard
I like country music

I said "but you like Willie"
he said "yeah, and so should you"
"I like Johnny Cash and Sugarland"
"I like Brad Paisley too."

My heart was back to normal
I said "I'm glad we had this chat"
He said, "it sure was different"
we shook hands...and that was that
"Go on forth young graduates,

And show us who you are

You're now our future leaders

We know you will go far"

And so commencement ended

Pictures done and people changed

Now, off to private parties

All orderly pre-arranged

But four young girls stood waiting

Until they were alone

"Let's head out to the party

And tomorrow, we shall phone,

Each other and we'll organize

Our final tete a tete

We'll plan something so special

A thing we haven't thought of yet!"

So, they went their separate ways

And they thought of all the places

That would hold a fitting luncheon

For their girls group "The 4 Aces""

They all got home around half past five

And all slept till half ten

After breakfast, phones were ringing

As they planned to meet again.

They picked a little tea house

called "Flavored Leaves of Green"

They would meet for a tea party

They would really make the scene

A week today they chose to meet

To celebrate together

They'd meet for tea and cakes

Regardless of the weather

And one more time, they'd choose to wear

The prom dress from that year

Big frilly hats, and long white gloves

and all that froo froo gear

The day arrived and they showed up

All ready for their tea

The Aces all decked again

Their luncheon was at three

The girls all talked about their plans

Of school and summer work

Two would council campers

While the other two would clerk

They loved their day and played the part

Of ladies with no cares

They knew it was the only time

They'd dine here, to be fair.

The final act of these four friends

Before they left and packed

Was to sign a pledge between them all

You could say, a small pact

"In twenty years from this day forth

We'll meet again for tea

On July twenty seventh

Of the year Two thousand three"

The sheet was signed and on their way

They booked their reservation

The girls all hugged and said goodbye

To end their celebration

Now time went by as it always does

And each girl went a different way

But in twenty years, they all looked forth

To meet again that day

The firtst Ace, Jill, went on to school

And married while she studied

She lost track of her Aces friends

Their paths were slightly muddied

She went to school in Omaha

A vet she chose to be

Her marriage lasted fifteen years

And...well, children...she had three.

Andi, chose to work instead

She left town to chase rainbows

She knew that here, her *** of gold

Would be wherever she chose

She moved out to Chicago

Where she was a big success

She became a photo artist

With a Lakeshore Drive address

Cindy, well...dear Cindy

Married five times through the years

Each one was shorter than the last

And one....just fifteen beers

They chose to split the very night

They they chose to become one

He left with her head bridesmaid

And the catfight....it was fun

Cindy spent two nights in jail

For beating up her beau

And she really laid a beating,

In her words, "Upon that **"

Lucy, never did leave town

But she let on that she did

For at high school graduation

She was pregnant with her kid

Her boy was born at Christmas

She did not even tell his dad

He was off to find his fortune

And she sometimes wished she had

But, she made up tales to tell her son

Of who his father was

But, she never told the truth to him

And that was her son's loss

She worked around the village

Never really getting out

She did her best for her son Jamie

There never was a doubt

She loved this boy with all her heart

And so she chose to stay

She'd sacrifice her future

And she'd dream of "just what may"

have happened to her if she left

If he had not been born

But, to her, a life with out him

Made her feel sad, forlorn

Twenty years past by so fast

The Aces plans were set

Each one had hoped the other

Would not dare to forget

Allthough good friends in high school

They'd never kept in touch

They went different directions

Their new lives, well....were their crutch

Cindy was the first to show

So, she stayed outside to smoke

When a voice came from behind her

And she knew just who had spoke

Lucy, grabbed her arm

And then she hugged her really tight

At least two of the four Aces

had remembered, got it right

They went inside to grab a seat

And Jill came in behind

And over by the bar was where

Andi, they would find

They all dressed up and wore big hats

And prom dresses as a lark

And they sat and told their stories

Of their lives till after dark

They vowed that they would stay in touch

And that they would converse

They all agreed they'd talk this time

And nothing could be worse

Than twenty years of silence

Between friends like the Four Aces

Even though they lived such different lives

They missed each other's faces

Another pact was signed this night

But this one for five years

To meet again for tea and cakes

And they signed it through their tears

Cindy left to catch her flight

and Andi left as well

Then Jill got up and hugged Lucy

And then she bade farewell

This left Lucy all alone

At the table all alone

When a gentleman came over

And he sat down with a groan

"Your party was successful"

Lucy smiled at his words

He was the tea house owner

A collector of rare birds

She thanked him for the party

It was one she could not miss

And on her way out past him

She gave him a light kiss

For not only did the tea room

Belong to this kind man

He was also her employer

For, 'twas his kitchen that she ran

You see, now it's been twenty years

Since they went to lead their lives

Some becoming so successful

Some becoming moms and wives

But Lucy, never left this burg

She raised her son alone

And she'd worked at this small tea house

It was her second home

She did not have the money

To come in as a guest

But her boss, was a sweetheart

And he'd made this night the best

Tomorrow she'd be back at work

Making meals for those who came

To the "Flavored leaves of Green"

and she'd be Lucy, once again..
..
For Kelly....
The actor burst into the bar
"Give me a double shot"
"And get ready with another"
"The strongest stuff you've got"

The barkeep, poured the whiskey
Pushed the glass across the bar
The actor downed the double
and put a twenty in the jar

"Tonight at my audition"
"As I finished up on stage"
"I was questioned by a fellow"
"Who was from a different age"

The barkeep poured another
And he downed this one himself
Then he turned for just a second
And grabbed a bottle from the shelf

The actor told the barkeep
Every single solitary word
The barkeep was transfixed
By everything he heard

"I came off stage...just to the right"
"There was a man there in the dark"
"He said that I was wonderful"
"Though his voice was rather stark"

"He said he didn't know the play"
"That I had just read for"
"I told him it was Webber"
"He asked if I'd done any more"

"I told him of my background"
"Phantom and Waiting for Godot"
"He said those must be recent"
"Those are two I do not know"

"He told me that he'd been working there"
"For almost all his life"
"He spoke of Ziegfields follies"
"That was where he'd met his wife"

"He asked if I'd done anything"
"Something maybe he would know"
"Something with some music"
"A gala kind of show"

The phone rang, breaking up the tale
The barkeep let it go
This tale was more important
Than anyone would ever know

"I told him, I'd done Joseph"
"Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice"
"He just looked clear on through me"
"He said that that was nice"

"He talked of all he'd seen there"
"Chaplin, and others out on tour"
"He told me of the strippers'
"And many, many, more"

"These were way before my time though"
"These were way back in the day"
"He mentioned shows in blackface"
"I knew not what to say"

"I tried to focus on him"
"But, I truly couldn't see"
"He spoke about the theater"
"He asked a bit 'bout me"

"He said this one's an old girl"
"I said that much was true"
"I said it holds a spirit"
"He smiled, like he knew"

The bottle now half empty
The words were pouring just as fast
The barkeep grabbed another
For this one wouldn't last

"I said I've heard the spirit"
"Sits up , right over there"
"In the upper level seating"
"Row three, right by the stair"

"He didn't look to see it"
"I'm sure he knew the seat by heart"
"He said to keep the theater living"
"We all must play a part"

"You, you are an actor"
"Though I know little of your work"
"But, it's part of the grand circle"
"It's a duty, not to shirk"

"Me, I'm ....well I' guess you'd say"
"I'm a caretaker if you will"
"I help to keep the status quo"
"Though I'm never on the bill"

"I moved a little closer"
"To where the voice was coming from"
"There was a coldness and a silence"
"And the old man, he was gone"

"I heard a seat get lowered"
"Three rows in beside the stair"
"And I looked and saw his shadow"
"In the velvet, theater chair"

"I may just be an actor"
"But, this spirit was my host"
"I'd spent nearly an hour"
"With the Bijou's theater ghost"

The barkeep, stood in silence
Two more glasses to the brim
"Are you sure that's who you talked to?"
"Are you sure that it was him?"

The actor pushed the stool back
"I am as sure as sure can be"
"I saw the keeper of the theater"
"And I know that he saw me"
Everybody knows
Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic
as the Three "R's" you need
Without them
you'll go nowhere
and never will succeed

Writing...that's a W
and Arithmetic an A
so, who ever came up
With "Three "R's"
was having a bad day

Now, go and ask a cowboy
what the three "R's"
are to him
You'll get a different answer
I'll bet you
one to ten

Ropin', Ridin' and Rodeo
The cowboy's three R list
Reading, Writing, Arithmetic
the big three that I missed

But if they do not have the first three
They are not a cowboy
not a chance
they're just another townie
just another fancy pants

So, to be a proper cowboy
there's six "R's"
they must know
the first three
along with
ridin', ropin, and
rodeo
by Roger Turner on Thursday, 5 July 2012 at 19:43 ·
In the year of our lord
Sixteen Hundred Fifty Four
There were no papers
delivered to our door
No radio, no TV
Media was rather slim
If you couldn't read or write
then your world was rather dim
One person brought the info
To the masses as he could
For he read out proclomations
Told the people, as he should
"Hear Ye, Hear Ye" he would yell
"Come gather, hear me speak"
"I have the words you need to hear"
"It's been a busy week"
The Crier came and took his stance
The crowd had come to hear
Their attention captured by his voice
And his bell rung oh so clear
"Oyez, Oyez praise the Lord
Today in the Town Square
An exhibition of archers skills
Take heed, now all be there"
"The King proclaims this Saturday"
"To be a day of feast for all"
"Prepare for this year's carnival"
"I am sure you'll have a ball"
The Crier held the crowd at hand
Dressed in the finest coat of silk
Green he was, from head to toe
With a belt as white as milk
For forty years he'd held this post
His father did before
He'd relay all the news there was
And all that had come before
His voice boomed out the words
That the people had to know
He was half a wealth of info
The other half was show
Until the mass production
Of papers and of books
This man was instrumental
In conveying what folks took
To be the truth not fiction
To stop rumours as they spread
To share important messages
From the peoples Royal head
Without the mighty Crier
People would not know just how
Their world around was changing
I think we all owe him a bow
500 years have passed since
The Town Crier is still here
And to most he's as important
As he was back in that year
They still make their proclomations
Still come forth and hold the crowd
Still yell out "Hear Ye, Hear Ye"
Still yell it mighty loud
Behold the Mighty Crier
Give him the praise that he has earned
For without those before him
Many people would not have learned
I dedicate this small verse
To a Crier for us all
He's the Town Crier For London
"I present to you Bill Paul"
Dedicated to our friend, and London Town Crier, Bill Paul. Bill has been a fixture on local radio and cable television for 30 years, broadcasting over 10,000 interviews during that time. I was lucky enough to be one of the 10,000. He is a town icon, philanthropist, man about town and entertainer. I have been lucky enough to have known him close to thirty years, having performed in two of our annual Halloween Haunted Houses that his group, The London Laffguards runs for charities every October. I hope you enjoy the verse, and if you have a Town Crier you know and love....share this with them and please comment on my poem.
we earned our stripes
playing out on the road
in towns you won't find on the map
we play whatever
the crowd wants to hear
and one time we even played taps

yeah taps...that's right
one time we even played taps

played a bar last night
real funky place
the backroom was also the jail
you got drunk on one side
then they'd lock you up
and you could pay the bartender your bail

yep...you could pay the bartender your bail

The towns that we play in
Aren't really that big
What most call a forest
The band calls a twig
we play country music
we can knock off a jig
but to call us that famous
is like kissing a pig

we've got two pickups
an suv too
and a minivan rusted to bits
we play rock paper scissors
to see who drives where
then we pack up and hope it all fits

yep...most nights we hope it all fits

we play behind wire
in some places we go
it stops the bottle from hitting the drums
we asked the bartender
if he thought we should leave
he said you do....next they'll all pull out their guns

yep...everyone there all had guns

The towns that we play in
Aren't really that big
What most call a forest
The band calls a twig
we play country music
we can knock off a jig
but to call us that famous
is like kissing a pig
We knew of "The Troubles" for most of our lives
They were there before we were born
But, to speak of "The Troubles" to those who don't know
They can't see that our country is torn

Pop stars sing songs about England go home
They make money, while we fight the fight
They stand on the sidelines just flapping their gums
While we live, breathe, and sleep this all night

Soldiers unknowing, just why they're here
They choose sides because that's what they do
They don't know the issues, how deep "The Troubles"  go
They're just here, and that's all they know

The orange and green, divided as one
Catholics and Protestants alike
Both fight their battles and both live for peace
And the British...can get on their bike

A land half as lovely, torn asunder by war
would be laid waste, with nothing to show
But "The Troubles" aside, there's lots here to see
And lots of great places to go

It's a war of attrition, where neither side wins
Each army gets recruits from the womb
You stay on your side, and I'll stay on mine
And we'll disagree to agree to our tomb

Fighting for freedom, religion or rights
It's political, hatred and worse
Religions involved, and we've only one God
So which side does God cheer or God curse

The battle still wages, though not like before
It's a war that is fought underground
"The Troubles" remain, and will for all time
And I pray for the dead, not around
THERE'S RUDOLPH, FROSTY, SANTA CLAUS AND GOOD OLD EBENEEZER
THERE'S CAROLS SUNG BY EVERYONE FROM KISS ON THROUGH TO WHEEZER
THERE'S CD'S OUT FROM NAT KING COLE, THE BOSTON POPS HAVE TWO
THERE'S  ONE OUT  NEIL DIAMOND WHICH IS STRANGE BECAUSE OLD NEIL'S A JEW

THE STORES HAVE TINSEL EVERYWHERE, THEIR TREES TOO,LOOKING NICE
THERE'S WRAPPING PAPER, CHRISTMAS LIGHTS AND EVEN PLASTIC ICE
THEY ATTACK YOUR SENSES CONSTANTLY, THEY MUST THINK I'M A FOOL
FOR ALL THIS STUFF IS ON DISPLAY, BEFORE THE KIDS GO BACK TO SCHOOL

THERE'S A RASTAFARIAN SANTA CLAUS WITH DREADLOCKS KNOWN AS "STONEY"
GENETICALLY ALTERED TURKEY MEAT THAT TASTES JUST LIKE BALONEY
PEOPLE DON'T BUY CHRISTMAS GIFTS THEY SEEM TO JUST GIVE MONEY
SO THEY GO SHOPPING BOXING DAY, AND THIS I FIND QUITE FUNNY

THE CHARITIES ARE ON THE PHONE AND AT YOUR DOOR EACH NIGHT
THEY WORK YOU WITH SOME CHRISTMAS GUILT, AND SAY "IT'S ONLY RIGHT"
TO DONATE TO UNFORTUNATES AND THEIR FOLKS NEED IT MOST"
AS THEY FLASH THEIR SMILES, FAKE I/D'S BEFORE THEIR PHONY BOAST

PEOPLE SHOP AND BUY AND BUY AND THEN THEY ALL RE-GIFT
MOST TIMES YOU'LL GET CHRISTMAS CAKE, THAT'S REALLY HARD TO LIFT
YOU WORK O.T. AND DO YOUR BEST, YOUR CHRISTMAS CASH TO SAVE
AND YOU SMILE WHEN YOU GET YOUR GIFT, AND IT'S THE ONE YOU GAVE

CHRISTMAS IS LESS FESTIVE AND TO ME IT'S GOTTEN RATHER CLINICAL
WITH SCHEDULES MADE AND SALES AND THINGS, IT'S MADE ME RATHER CYNICAL
TO SAY WHAT CHRISTMAS REALLY MEANS, I READ THOMAS ACQUINAS
BUT INSTEAD, I'LL USE A QUOTE FROM SHCULTZ'S PROPHET LINUS

..."AND SUDDENLY THERE WAS WITH THE ANGEL A MULTITUDE OF THE HEAVENLY HOST PRAISING GOD
AND SAYING "GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, AND ON EARTH PEACE, GOODWILL TOWARD MEN.""

AND THAT IS WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ALL ABOUT....PLAIN AND SIMPLE.
THE STORY OF OUR SAVIOUR'S BIRTH
IS ONE WE'VE ALL BEEN TOLD
HOW THREE WISE MEN CAME FROM THE EAST
THEY WERE BEARING GIFTS AND GOLD
THEY TRAVELLED FAR ACROSS THE SAND
FOR MANY DAYS ON END
AND WHEN THEY WERE ABOUT TO QUIT
THEY SAW IT ROUND THE BEND
T'WAS NOT THE MANGER THAT THEY SOUGHT
FOR IT WAS OUT OF SIGHT
BUT WHAT THEY FOUND WAS JUST THE PLACE
WHERE THEY COULD SPEND THE NIGHT
THE SIMPLE PLACE THAT THEY HAD FOUND
WAS MADE OF MUD AND STICKS
IT STILL SURVIVES ON TO THIS DAY
IT'S NOW CALLED MOTEL 6
THEY SPENT THE NIGHT
AND THEN MOVED ON
TO FIND THE KING OF KINGS
THEY NOW HAD MORE TO GIVE HIM
WITH ALL THEIR PRECIOUS THINGS
THEY WERE RACKED WITH PAIN
AND HAD A CHURNING IN THEIR BOWELS
IT WAS CAUSED BY GUILT YOU KNOW
BECAUSE THEY'D STOLEN THEIR ROOMS TOWELS
IT TOOK TWO WEEKS BUT THEN THEY FOUND
THE MANGER THAT THEY SOUGHT
THEY CAME ON THROUGH THE LITTLE GROUP
TO SHOW THE GIFTS THEY'D BROUGHT
THE FIRST WISE MAN, HE GAVE HIS GIFT
A SMALL CASE MADE OF GOLD
"IT WAS LOVELY TO LOOK AT AND REAL NICE TO TOUCH"
"BUT I BROKE AND T'WAS SOLD"!
HE LAID IT DOWN BEFORE THE CHILD
AND HE MADE A LITTLE SPEECH
HE SAID "MY LORD, YOU'LL SOON GROW UP"
"AND THE WHOLE WORLD YOU WILL TEACH"
FRANKINCENSE WAS THE NEXT GIFT
THAT THE MAGII DID LAY DOWN
"WE'RE NOT SURE WHAT IT'S USED FOR"
SAID THIS WISE MAN WITH A FROWN
THE FINAL GIFT THAT THESE THREE GAVE
WAS MYRRH AND THIS I FEAR
IS SOMETHING WE THINK PEOPLE
ALL DAB BEHIND THEIR EARS
A BETHLEHEM STAR REPORTER
WAS WRITING IN HIS PAD
"THE CHILD LOOKS JUST LIKE HIS MUM"
"HE DON'T LOOK MUCH LIKE HIS DAD!"
THE BABY JESUS ROSE TO SPEAK
AS THE MAGGI LEFT FOR ROME
"MERRY CHRISTMAS GENTLEMEN"
"HAVE A VERY SAFE TRIP HOME"!
With great thanks to Peter Cook and Dudley Moore for the last two lines.
I was dancing at a dance club
Two stepping all about
When my thumb, it found a belt loop
And I couldn't get it out

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

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

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

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

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

Now, I'm through with twerking
And there's is one thing that you'll find
That unlike young Miley Cyrus
You don't want to watch me from behind!!!
this is the story of cedric hyde-fleet
the most un-cowboy cowboy you ever would meet
cedric was english, not british you see
but, being a cowboy was what  he wanted to be

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

now, cedric hyde-fleet
never ever left home
never got on the horse
or got shirts made in rome
the things that he wanted
were the things that he'd seen
and he forgot about cowboys
when he first saw ....The Queen
IT CAME UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR
THE VOICE I HEARD THAT NIGHT
I WASN'T SURE FROM WHERE IT CAME
IT GAVE ME QUITE A FRIGHT
I CLOSED MY EYES AND SAID A PRAYER
I WAS SCARED TO DEATH
AND THEN I HEARD THAT VOICE AGAIN
SO  NOW...I HELD MY BREATH
IN ALL MY LIFE I'D NEVER HEARD
A VOICE AS DEEP AS THIS
IT SHOOK ME UP RIGHT TO MY SOULD
IT ALMOST MADE ME ****
IN CHURCH, I THOUGHT, THEY SPEAK OF THINGS
THAT MAKE YOU FEEL THIS WAY
SOME MAY GO THEIR WHOLE LIFE THROUGH
TO FEEL AS I TODAY
CHRISTMAS EVE WAS COMING SOON
BUT I GOT MY GIFT THEN
I STOOD ON UP AND TURNED TO GO
AND I HEARD THAT VOICE AGAIN
THE VOICE RANG OUT SO LOUD AND PURE
I TOOK IN EVERY WORD
YOU MAY ASK WHAT IT DID SAY
SO, THIS IS WHAT I HEARD..........





ELVIS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING!
Barefoot ridin' on my Harley
sounds real cool and it looks gnarly
Doin' wheelies on the way
Lookit me, no hands today

Highway surfin in our truck
You know I don't give a F###
Adrenaline it's in my veins
Let's go out and race the trains

What happened to the little voice
That voice of reason in my head
It shows up some, but now it's dead
That voice of reason in my head
Used to sound just like my mother
Then it sounded like my wife
Now, I rarely hear it speaking
It ain't part of my life
What happened to the little voice
That voice of reason in my head
It shows up some, but now it's dead
That voice of reason in my head


Diving into shallow water
I'm ok, do you think I oughta
Walking out on red hot coals
Tingles some and burns my soles

Drinking what there is before me
I don't care as long as it's free
Party time through out the night
I'll be ok, it's outa sight

What happened to the little voice
That voice of reason in my head
It shows up some, but now it's dead
That voice of reason in my head
Used to sound just like my mother
Then it sounded like my wife
Now, I rarely hear it speaking
It ain't part of my life
What happened to the little voice
That voice of reason in my head
It shows up some, but now it's dead
That voice of reason in my head

One day I will die for sure
Heaven has got that allure
But....I didn't listen to the voice of reason
And I'll end up.....WHERE IT AIN'T FREEZIN'

What happened to the little voice
That voice of reason in my head
It shows up some, but now it's dead
That voice of reason in my head
Used to sound just like my mother
Then it sounded like my wife
Now, I rarely hear it speaking
It ain't part of my life
What happened to the little voice
That voice of reason in my head
It shows up some, but now it's dead
That voice of reason in my head
The words, they tell the story
But the music makes the song
The story disappears
When the volume is all wrong


If you want folks dancing
Sing it nice and loud
Take the hint and listen
Sing it for the crowd

But, if you want to tell...a story
That's when you make a choice
To turn the volume down a bit
Let the people hear your voice

The volume kills the story
But it also sells the song
You'll never have a hit my friend
If you get the mix all wrong

Anthems, scream them loudly
Make the walls fall to the ground
Make it like an earthquake
Just do it with some sound

Get the heartbeats racing
Get the people on the floor
You just won't have it happen
If the volume is at 4

If you want to say I love you
And make folks feel it in their heart
Remember words will express feeling
And lower volume plays a part

So, when you play your music
May you play it loud and strong
Remember turn it down sometimes
Because, the volume sells the song
I was south of El Paso
hadn't got very far
I was hot on the trail of
A wandering star
It was high in the heavens
like a giant balloon
It was caught in the shadows
of the Blood Red Full Moon

I set out on the trail of
That wandering star
I followed it closely
Heard a tale in a bar
When the moon was in season
and the Blood Moon hung low
That wandering star
Would show where to go

It was up in the rock face
That I found a trail mark
The moon shone upon it
Even though it was dark
It showed the direction
To get away from the wind
Something evil was brewing
It was set to begin

I didn't hear cricket
nay, there wasn't a sound
All of nature was hiding
There was nothing around
The moon it hung lower
Red as jam in a jar
And there in the shadows
Was the wandering star

I found shelter and bunked down
There was nowhere to go
The temperature dropped fast
You knew soon there'd be snow
The trail would be hidden
In the light of the day
I'd wait for the star to
come out and show me the way

Two days we kept moving
Our goal was nearly in sight
The snow kept on coming
We moved only at night
I was just three more miles
It wasn't really that far
We'd been shown by the moon
and by the wandering star

I awoke in the morning
The sun was red as the moon
the wind was still howling
It played a wicked old tune
I could see in the distance
Of what the old drunkard said
I'd found an old grave yard
That housed the Parmalee dead

You see, I was family
They'd come out from the east
They'd died in the winter
they said the storm was a beast
They were buried and left here
Under a ****** red moon
The wind was still blowing
It's bitter cold tune

I painted the fences
I cleared the snow from the graves
Even though they were gone
Their memory was saved
I'd stay here till the spring time
Put fresh paint on each cross
Naming each single one
That our family lost

I came here each season
Left El Paso to ride
It was just a deep feeling
A feeling of pride
They could not be forgotten
Thanks to the tale in the bar
I found all my kin
with the wandering star.
the wild west's still with us
it isn't gone at all
8 shot inside a high school
11 at the mall

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The wild west's still with us
It isn't gone at all
7 dead inside the church
11 at the mall
They say don't go out walking
in the woods nearby
You'll reach a point where it's so dark
You can not see the sky
It doesn't matter much to me
And here's the reason why
I listen to the wind out there
It speaks to me on high

One wrong turn and you'll be lost
They tell me, still I go
I know where I'm heading
The wind it tells me so
I listen to the wind out there
It say's I'm glad you came
The wind and I are such old friends
The wind it calls my name

Elemental friendship
From another time
Silent Conversation
No words, just thoughts in rhyme

Snowy winter afternoons
out walking all alone
Making trails for no one else but me
I listen to the tree and how they groan
The wind it makes them talk some
Not one tree sounds the same
The wind and I are such old friends
The wind it calls my name

The darkness closes in so fast
The winter days are short
Walking on in silence
Like a library or court
The wind says night is coming
Go back from whence I came
The wind and I are such old friends
The wind it calls my name

Elemental friendship
From another time
Silent Conversation
No words, just thoughts in rhyme
I sat down in the basement
Safe and hidden from the storm
I wrapped up in my blanket
I was keeping safe and warm

It sounded like a freight train
As I listened to it blow
The rain was going sideways
But, at least there wasn't snow

The maple in my back yard
Was straining as it blew
Some branches snapped in pieces
I counted twenty two

I watched out the small window
As projectiles whistled by
It was noon but felt like midnight
From the darkness of the sky

I saw a picnic table
Fly from two houses up the street
Although it was quite scary
It was also kind of neat

We get these storms quite often
And when the wind is dead and gone
The best part is the garbage
Has all blown off my front lawn

I'm going up to look out
As the winds are dying down
To check on what's been blown here
From other parts of town

I'm looking from my kitchen
To see the damage the storm did
I've now got six umbrellas
Two swing sets and a kid

A wading pool, two lawn chairs
Some cushions and a slide
A pool cover all torn up
And a small boat on it's side

No leaves and that's a good thing
Because my sheds gone with the rake
So I can score one on the plus side
Though I now own a small lake

Shingles from the rooftops
Of nearby homes abound
I've fourteen in my fence now
And a hundred on the ground

Last storm, when it blew through
It wasn't quite a twister
My friend, he lost his tent trailer
But he gained a cat and sister

We've twenty three blue boxes
From storms we've had before
A dozen real nice planters
And a beat up old car door

I get another backyard grill
About every year or so
I just move the old one out some
And let the wind storm blow

The storms done finally
So, the clean up now can start
Tomorrow it'll be out front
Like a yard sale at Wal Mart

The damaged goods get recycled
The good stuff's rarely claimed
It's all covered by insurance
And the victims never named

This year will be different
We won't keep all things hid
We've got an extra swing set
And I'm not keeping the kid
Stores were being heldup
The crime wave was big news
The culprit showed up naked
Wearing a smile and some shoes
No one would be able
To identify the crook
No one saw her face to well
They really never looked
The cops kept working on it
They chased down every lead
But none of them were helpful
Giving evidence they'd need
All they knew,....a woman
would come in and she'd flash
Her ***** at the man working
And she'd make off with the cash
Fourteen stores and stations
Were hit by this bold *****
But without her even knowing
Her plan had a small wrench
I take you to the latest store
Where the police have come to see
Why the woman ran without the cash
Let's listen in...shall we?

"we heard sir, that you've cracked our case"
"you're the first person to see her face"
"Of courth I did you silly goose"
He held out his hand "just call me Bruce'
"She shouldn't be too hard to find"
"If there's one thing I know, it's a bare behind"
"You see, when she found I was gay"
"That's when she turned and ran away"
"She won't get too far on those heels"
"She left on foot, she had no wheels"
The questions then came fast and quick
All answered, smoothly...and real slick
"First, I noticed that her shoes"
"Were cheap, bad knock off Jimmy Choos"
"The lining of her coat was stained"
"And her hair colour, not much remained"
"She had a note pinned to her *******"
"I didn't care, you might have guessed"
"She held a bag, said fill it up"
"I'd say she was a full D cup"
"I told her I don't think so dear"
"I think that gave away I'm queer"
"I mean, no earrings or a matching purse"
"Some style please....but, I've seen worse"
"She should not be too far away"
"Her shoes aren't runners, they're made to play"
"Blond hair, bad roots, ends were frizzy too"
"Fingernails all badly done, a rotten shade of blue"
"I hope I have helped you boys"
"Are those cuffs real?...I like your toys"

The cops put out an APB
To catch this woman on the loose
You see they never want to
Go back and talk to Bruce
So, if you want to rob a store
Now, listen for this.....wait...
Make sure the man who's working there
Is sure as shooting...STRAIGHT~~~
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