Dear Lucille,
Come for me in the twilight of nocturnal hour
Close my eyes with soft kindness
The fading memories of you emerges from the night around me
Mist mingles its lamentation with the soft whispering of the sea
Deserted like a graveyard at the crack of dawn
In the hour of departure
Come for me
Oh my dear departed one! .......

Dear Lucille,
Cold frontier faces are now haunting the fragments of a lonesome heart
A king and queen now sit in an exiled throne
Old, alone in a forsaken kingdom
Friendless, forgotten and torned apart
In you the wars of old and the lust of the monarchs were originated
In you lost sailors struggle for a way out from the cave of shipwrecked
But Lucille, Oh! Lucille
You swallowed eternity whole!
Won't you come my way once more?
My self restraint is crumbling
My tainted trust , my betrayed love
You left me on the shore
Bound by grief , stunned by despair
Still you clung to desire
Like time you left me untouched
Yet swallowed eternity whole! ...........

Dear Lucille,
You satisfied me in the ambivalence of fury and dread
Came closer in the moist hours of dusk and dawn
Waited in silence as sorrow engulfed the horizon
Beyond love and carnal sins , you walked on ......

Dear Lucille,
Will you not come again?
Running along the rain soaked lane
Beautiful and pale
In the darkest of nights
Where so many a day
Made me blind , then grew gray
I count what I can't forget
And evetually fail
Oh my sweet Lucille!
Will you not come again?
For the one who gave up immortality to love you
Smiled and wept seasons through
Gave up his own flesh for the love he lost
Now raise his voice to you .......

Dear Lucille,
There was solemn solitude in our embrace
Intense passion in corner of our kisses
How deep did this desire of mine run!
You might never comprehend
Say, if I'm here no more
Will you come then?
Indeed I loved you; my dear friend!
I loved with my life and it came to an abrupt end
Indeed I loved you; I love you yet
But the swift judgement that departed us, now cannot be mend ........

if I suffer at this
typewriter
think how I'd feel
among the lettuce-
pickers of Salinas?
I think of the men
I've known in
factories
with no way to
get out-
choking while living
choking while laughing
at Bob Hope or Lucille
Ball while
2 or 3 children beat
tennis ***** against
the wall.
some suicides are never
recorded.

It always starts with a Woman;
a woman with skin like sweet milk chocolate.
A woman with a voice like warm honey on a cold dark night
And brown eyes in which a man might comfortably lose his soul.

The club was cold; not much of a club really;
A drafty old barn of a building somewhere in Arkansas
A big barrel half filled with Kerosene was lit to heat the hall.
The Young black folk of the town were gathered around

Young B.B. King was playing the blues, on a guitar with no name.
That was when the fight broke out on the dance floor.
two strong men doing battle over a woman who worked at the club.
It always starts with a woman.

Punches were exchanged; in the melee someone kicked over that barrel
And fire, like a river, roared across the floor.
Everybody started to run for the only open exit.
B.B. King ran too, until he recalled he had forgotten his guitar.

She was nothing special except for the man who played her
The man who coaxed sweet sad sounds from every catgut string.
King wasn’t a rich man and that guitar was his meal ticket
So he raced back through the flames.

Just as he retrieved his guitar, the building began
Its slow sad collapse into ash and embers
He barely escaped with his life and his guitar.

Standing outside in the cold night
Looking on the ruins of what had been a good paying gig.
That was when he met Lucille;
She was the barmaid with the sweet milk chocolate skin
And a voice like warm honey on a cold dark night;
Those two men had just fought and died over
a pleasure that neither would ever possess.

That was when B.B. King christened that old beat up guitar
“Lucille”:
To remind him of this night he almost died.
to remind him never to do something that stupid again.
Like I was saying, it always starts with a woman.

My ever fairest dear, Lucille
Where shall I find you, dear?
Where have you gone,
   my love?

To the vast seas, I have inquired
Yet have not I heard you--
The waves voice not
   your name.

To lullabies I have listened
Yet not one word describes
   just how lovely
     you are.

Many a dish I have tasted
Yet none compares to the
  taste of your sweet,
      sweet lips.

The temporal joy of the fair--
Far greater still the joy
  I feel when you
     are near.

The scent of popcorn I feast on--
More fragrant still the smell
   of your velvet
      red hair.

My dear Lucille, where have you gone?
Come home to me dear love,
   before my pulse
      is none.

And when it has stopped - my breathing
I will remember you
   To my faint heart's
      beating.

Lucille's weeping silently.
Now that the fingers that felt her has passed.
The strings of music slowly came to a halt.

Cause he played the song upon her, it pays to be the boss.
No longer will her story be told by him about how her story came to be?

No longer will his magic fingers be placed upon her to push him, to sing.
Or simply make the strings ring that  it's BB King.

Lucille, probably never would be known.
If it wasn't for the players call this guitar his own.

Verse:

Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Ghandi, Lucille Ball
Quiet and soft-spoken
Take the spotlight
Every bone in their body tells them not to
They took it not because they wanted to
Not because they enjoyed directing others
Not out of the pleasure of being looked at
Because they had no choice
Because they were driven to do what they thought was right

Chorus:

Roosevelt and Ghandi
Rosa Parks and lovely Lucy
Inner peace is what we all need
You're not a failure if you can believe

Verse:

Steve Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Nicole Kidman, Lucille Ball
Shy actress was an oxymoron
In the so-called Golden Age
Let's make today the real Golden Age
And stop being so mean to each other
Take a walk in another person's shoes
Play the role of the person terrified to speak
Turn a party around so you can see it the way we see it
As a battleground
As a place of judgement and fear

Verse:

Einstein, Lincoln, Edison, me, you!
Laughed at in their classes and by the masses
When they had the ideas to change the world
If you would ever let them read their books
How many people have given up their dreams?
Just because they were shy?
There has to be a better way to deal with this
And someday I know you will get there
Touch the sky, touch our hearts
And find the love you always wanted


Bridge:

Solitude
Solitude
Inner peace is what we all need
The ability to be you
The ability to be the original
Not the knock off

When all summed her home was
immaculate,  like pearl polished
porcelain and her maple floors
smelled of good soap and wax;
between Sunday lunch  and
dessert, she would stroll
to the bathroom
to throw-up.

There is a girl inside.
She is randy as a wolf.
She will not walk away and leave these bones
to an old woman.

She is a green tree in a forest of kindling.
She is a greeen girl in a used poet.

She has waited patient as a nun
for the second coming,
when she can break through gray hairs
into blossom

and her lovers will harvest
honey and thyme
and the woods will be wild
with the **** wonder of it.

Kenny had a God given talent and he was bound to succeed.
His death has pricked people like a thorn and they will bleed.
He was both a singer and an actor who had skill.
People loved to hear him sing The Gambler and Lucille.

The world is sad to lose Kenny.
He was a Leo just like me.
All of his fans are heart broken because of this ordeal.
People loved to hear him sing The Gambler and Lucille.

"I love you more than buttercups!" Said little Mary Liu
Said Tiny Tim to Mary Liu, "I love you more than glue!"
"I love you more than applesauce." Said Betty to Lucille.
Lucille replied, "I love you more than wet banana peel!"

"I like you more than broccoli." Said Kimmie to her mom.
Her mother smiled, "Kim I love you more than lemon balm."
"I love you more than ******." Debbie told her boyfriend Don.
Donny looked at her and said, "Me too! I wish that you were gone."

So in the end, it seems to seem that Valentines are not
Anything more than people who just like to spend a lot
Valentine's Day isn't quite as glorious as we
Swoon and croon and quite as big as we make it to be