O, I believe there might be something out there we can't see.
Some Cosmic Orchestrator or Supreme Divinity...

But why would it be calling you, just you and you alone?
If It's just all-so-powerful, it knows to use the phone.

I really see no reason, there's no reason I can see
Why God would bother calling you, and never ring up me.

But then again I'm just a simple man who won't define
The wherefore and the whatnot or the mind of The Divine.

Yet still I have a doubt or two that you've heard Holy Word...
Your actions speak much louder, Sir, than anything I've heard
From your lofty pulpit where you rant and proselytize
And tell us God just told YOU all the things we should despise.

But then again I'm just a simple man who won't define
The wherefore or the whatnot or the mind of The Divine.

She floats above my life with hidden purpose
Casting glances over her pearl white shoulder
Occasionally
To see if I've noticed
To see if I've fallen for the ruse
Taken the bait
Given in to the pursuit.

She knows I want her.
She's aware of my need.
It shines in my scent,
My wounded trail.

She floats above my life daintily
With estrogen seeping
Wiggling and shadow-boxing with my heart
Casting her lures,
Fly fishing,
Teasing me from my mud-******* existance
Only to snag me

Razor barb hook tearing through the soft tender meat of my soul

She checks me out and tosses me back
And as I sink into the murky depths of my maleness
I cry out
"Try again!  Size isn't everything!"

But she cannot hear me above the whir of her own motor.
And she trawls to another pond.

I run this muddy track on these big old shaky wheels
With numbers on my back and a helmet on my head.
I drive around in circles and they call me "Crazy Ed".
I drive. That's how I stay alive.  I just like how it feels.

I've got a batch of children and a drop-dead gorgeous wife.
She puts up with me when I leave to tinker on that wreck.
And all week long I'm trucking, gone, to earn an honest check.
And still she cheers for me each Sunday while I risk my life.

Someday I'll hang that helmet on the hook there by the door,
And toss away this mud-caked suit with "92" on back.
I'll give that gorgeous wife of mine a kiss, and *****-whack,
Then play around (in circles!) with my Kids there on the floor.

Cover my sins with halo gold,
my feet with olive green,
And kiss the ******
As they bury me.

Six can carry me
Out to the shore
While the gulf-sun settles
Away in the west.

Do this for me and I'll leave you my treasure
A hollow warm pocket
A painting  or two
And cast my illusions to
the winds and the sea.

Please do not cry at my overdue passing.
Laugh and imbibe
and stumble a while
and smile
at the space which
I've left here for you.

chal, o eru.
raigh nu wandh' heh
cu aj i tdju o.

o eru
raigh wa nacca yeh
o ama, ama nay?

o At Ka tona.
ko hok ton chal.
sey o eru.

Ha, waka se
O
Ha, waka se
O
o eru
o na
o.