She moves at quantum levels
You're not supposed to see
And if you sneak a peek at her
She flips from sine-to-three

She changes colors often
Her blue-shift echoes red
I caught a glimpse of her and now
She's dancing in my head

She moves at quantum levels
With paranormal grace
She stands still on the dance-floor as
She jibes from space to place

She doesn't feel the rhythm
Her beat is zero-G
She moves at quantum levels which
You're not supposed to see

She'll dance with God or Devil
She'll dance to any key
She moves at quantum levels which
You're not supposed to see

(she sometimes wears a frilly-thing
  which peeks out from her jeans
  She shakes at quantum levels in
  The spaces in-betweens)

I grew up in an old farm-house
Just a spit-toss from the creek
Joyous boyhood in the cowshit
To my Parents' deep chagrin, though,
I was never mild or meek.

I was boyhood raw abandon
I was loud as loud could be
I could dance to secret music
I would pester all the grown-ups
Questions! Questions, constantly.

"Why For" was my given nick-name
I was such a hungry youth
Why for this and why for that
I would drive my Folk's friends crazy
Seeking bits and bites of Truth

Years have flown by much too quickly
Knees are creaky, hair's gone gray
Still I ask a simple question
Same one when I played in cowshit
"Why for why for, anyway?"

Falling smoothly into chaos
Dancing with The Devil's twin
Staying out to all odd hours
Play to play but not to win

Holding onto little numbers
Clutching at the threes and twos
Tossing all the Jacks or better
Nothing left to really lose

Pony up my hidden nickle
Lay my hand down, easy breeze
Watch the other gamblers crumble
As I win with twos and threes

Rake in all my ill-begotten
Dust the prayer-dirt from my knees
Pocket up my lucky nickle...
Jesus loves those twos and threes.

Me an' my truck
Goin' on down the road
I think o' yer cheatin' heart
And I lose my load

Down in Tennersee
I met me a girl
Her name was Billy Joe
Hot ****! What a thrill!

But she broke my heart
It was just my luck
Now alls I got left
Is me an' my truck.

Bootlick Tom went out one night
To get his share of drinkin' on
He soon got into a fight
When all his drinkin' money'd gone

Out there on that beer-lit stoop
He saw that it was one-to-four...
"Almost fair" he chuckled as
He knocked the first one through the door.

Number Two was big and mean
with heavy-handed hammer-fists
But BootlickTom took out his knee
And put him in a scissor twist.

The third big bad-*** came in wild
A busted bottle in his hand.
"Well, that's not fair", Ol' Tom remarked,
And knocked him into Never-Land.

But Number Four stood by the door
He knew the outcome should he fight...
"I've got a few coins left" he said
And Bootlick Tom drank free all night.

I promised that I'd go to bed
before the midnight hour.
Yet doggy has to take a walk,
and kitty's milk is sour,
and laundry in the wash-n-dry
needs sort and hang and fold...
(my Mom was right, I need a wife,
before I get too old!)

I'd like to have a comfort wife,
Here in my waning days...
A happy, buxom, needy gal
who puts up with my ways
Who'd let me write and paint and strum.
then bed me down with flowers...
(Then walk the dog and fill the
Kitty's bowl
when his milk sours.)

Three Bones lives in the olde dark wood
Three Bones up to nothing good
Way too many teeth in there
Three Bones smiling everywhere.

Three Bones watches children sleep
Waits until their dreaming's deep
Then he creeps into their beds
Tearing into little heads.

Three Bones steals away their dreams
Laughing at their slumbered screams
Nightmare is his stock and trade
In this dark midnight parade.

Three Bones lives in the olde dark wood
Three Bones up to nothing good...