You keep shaking at the branches
just like money grows on trees.
I been dealing in these cheap clichés
just like they'll help me leave someday.
And--easy! Easy! Easy.--
We can't let 'em hear us scheming
at the bottom of their hill
while their victories are streaming.

I can still remember days
when sane folks always laid bets on us.
With our mortarboards tilted all smart
and God left sorting filters,
we tilted, tipped all windmills
and we smoked through all opponents.

You'll tell me I once loved you.
I'll reply that, once, I could.
And we'll keep on telling stories
'til our voices clear the woods
and drift on up their hill
and through their windows
to their ears.

I'll tell you you were beautiful.
You were! I ******* swear!
So tell me I was beautiful
and that we can repair
this broken clumsy story
that ****** us all up and brought us here.

Up there atop their hill,
those thieving ******* sip their wine,
while below them, our white facepaint runs.
We plan ahead for better times.

I keep shaking at the branches
as if friendship grows on trees.
Just as though they might accept me,
when the dollars fall with Autumn leaves.
And you been dealing hard in hollow hopes
and flimsy dreams.

But I still think you're beautiful.
So tell me that I'm beautiful.
And then let's clip their flimsy wings.

Those ******* 'crost the town
are eating **** and grinning.
               Cackling,
               orgasming,
while counting out their winnings.

But their music plays too loud
and soon their eardrums will be bleeding.
If they can't hear us breathing, babe,
they'll never hear us scheming.

History is written by winners

Their story's the one that is told

The loser's are like dust in a zephyr

Blown away by the wind and the cold

A battle is waged on a hillside

The armies are dressed in chain mail

One side is left battered and dying

So...which side will write down the tale?

A submarine sinks in the channel

It's just off the Dover coast shore

No one survives but the story

of sailors we'll here from no more

Villages destroyed by a virus

It spreads through the town really quick

You know that the story gets written

By the survivors who didn't get sick

Pompeii was wiped out, that's a given

A volcano did wipe out the town

The people were burned to a cinder

So who writes, when there's no one around?

In the movies the cowboys and Injuns

All fight for control of the fort

Do the Indians spread tales of their losses

Do they write it all down just for sport?

As years changed the stories came forward

Of the armies and people who died

They were defending their loved ones and country

It's too bad they were on the wrong side.

As time lumbered on to the future

The winners were not just the ones

Who told what had happened that day

They were not just the ones with the guns

Bystanders came and told what they saw

This would change how stories were told

There was now a new player with stories to tell

And the winners did not look so bold

Things now were written that no one did know

Of the other sides battle attempts

They were not heroes or winners but, losers no more

For these writings now made them exempt

They spoke of their battles, their loyalty, grit

To stand strong and fight for their lives

Even though it was futile, they still thought they would win

Thinking only of children and wives

Now history is written as quick as it comes

Television has surely changed that

You can watch things at home on your big screen tv

And you can feel like you're where things are at.

Deception is gone and the truth now is told

In seconds, not years like before

You see things as they happen, and the final result

May shake your soul to your core.

So....now History is written by winners

and by losers as well just the same

And no matter, whatever the story

You now know all players by name.

Regardless of whatever the story

Be it ****** or sports,  games or war

We can now see just how each one has ended

And their honor, and that's what life is for...

Some may have stood here better than me,
there were winners and losers fading history,
some were so good - they brought a tear,
they brought laughter, beauty to everyone here.

I've tried to keep up, tried to go beyond,
amazing what comes when you wave your magic wand,
stardust becomes a must - something you can trust,
the result may not always be right but just.

Strangely fair that you should arrive at a solution,
in the beginning there was light beyond evolution;
I salute my fellow writers, their determination,
their bravado pursuing heights for so long.

I am with you - will be forever, you know me,
and one day you may achieve immortality.

Ring toss, you know,
where you try to get a small plastic ring to cling to the top of an empty bottle?
I've won it twice.
Both times, took home the biggest prize.

DUI's. I've had some close calls.
Passed a field sobriety test once,
but maybe she was just being nice.

Dice games;
I've only played three times in my life.
Lost a lot once,
but won big twice.

Winning is not all about beating your peers
Which many lose sight of, unfortunately.
It can be more about overcoming your fears
To be the best you can possibly be.

pierced by my own punctum
I'm the Tacitus of my times
scrawl from pen to page
scrawl from pen to page
. . .
seas of needles and crestin waves
the climate's been bound to change
climates been bound to change
I aint reachin for the needle no more
but needle still reachin for me
. . .
scrawl from pen to page
scrawl from pen to page
and I need water
ink been bound to dry
throat been bound to close
jaw been bound to lock
she's a cuckoo, but whose the clock?
she's a cuckoo, but whose the clock?
. . .

Come, come
To the gathering of winners
The one the world sees as sinners

Come, come
To the meeting of the living
Who love our God yet keep on sinning

Come, come
To the love of our Lord
Who across seas and skies had soared

Come, come
To the love of our father
Who's undying grace will always go farther

Come, come
Ye sinners and saints
You beautiful, broken, and you with stains

Come, come
To the Lord Jesus Christ
For He will always win the fight

"Come, come,
Lord Jesus" we cry
One day, He will, one day, we'll fly

"Come, come"
Say the saints to the dead
"The banquet is soon, and the  prince shall be wed!"

Come, come
My Christ and my king
I want with you forever to sing

Come, come
And your chariots bring
For we shall be ready, we shall, my king.

Come, come
To the gathering of winners
Though we be victorious, we are still sinners

Come, come
Oh come to the feast
Where we shall eat plenty and hear the great priest.

The Lord Jesus
Ate with us sinners
And took off our rags and made us the winners.

So come, come
To the table of winners
Who through the world's eyes may still be sinners

But come, come
For in the eyes of Jesus
We are no sinners-as jewels He sees us.

We are all sinners                                                                                                     For many reasons ,but                                                                                             Some never admit that                                                                                            They are guilty and sinners ...                                                                                 Our bad deeds overweight                                                                                      Our good deeds except for                                                                                      Some good people anytime ...                                                                                Sins **** us and they turn us                                                                                    Into sinners who keep that way ...