I'm not a great man,
But,
I've been here and there, and I've learned a lot.
Like how not to get shot,
And where to buy ***.
I've bent every misdemeanor law,
Some would call me a libertarian,
I say democracy is a farce,
Keep your vote, and leave me out of it.
Most of what I know is useless idiosyncratic observation.
For instance,
I know how many days it takes to hide 73 pipes, and other miscellaneous paraphernalia.


My father was raised in the depression,
He refused to let us throw anything out,
And we had a chest of drawers, full of old junk.
Watches without bands, and any piece of scrap paper,
That had free space on it. Last years receipt, dry cleaning tickets, etcetera...
And,
Subsequently,
It rubbed off on me,
And I hate throwing anything out.
I don't buy new stuff, until the old stuff goes bust.
I had a 10 pound Toshiba satellite, for 8 years,
Until the plug jack came loose, and I fried the sucker.

So when my doctor told me I had to quit smoking...
Everything,
I had forty plus years of accumulated paraphernalia.
I gave a pipe, to friends who were interested,
But it wasn't enough.

I hear you saying it now,
"You irresponsible old lunatic!"
And you're right, but I look at it a little different.
You might call it promoting lawlessness,
I say a law that is obsolete should be repealed.
Walk down the street, you'll see the dime bags,
and blunt wrappers everywhere.
No need to promote something that will happen anyway.

Teens will smoke, so I hid a bunch near high schools.
Up at Rutgers, I hid one in ten different buildings,
A few outside of the police station, and the courthouse,
And one in the bushes of my ****** neighbor.
Any place I could think of, I hid a pipe.
Rebellion be ******, I did it because I felt good,
Like a simple *******,
A stolen cherry, in the supermarket.

Sowhatsthepoint?

Crime isn't cool kiddies,
But, as long as you steer clear of felonious activity,
They won't send you to real **** ****** jail.
Even your grandma, probably jaywalks from time to time.
Oh if you stumble on one of my pipe hiding spots,
Don't touch it until your old enough.

Am     E    G
Turn   it   down.
           Am      E             G
There's no time to clown around.
Em                     G
Don't spill any beer,
        Em                             G             (G string bass note, and  strummed chord x3)
And pass another can over here.
      
Am        E            G
Make   Up  Your mind.  
Am.          E            G
Do.. you want to find God?
Em                 G
I've seen his face
       Em                                    G.                        (­G string bass note, and  strummed chord x3)
He's breathing hard, like a runner in a race.

Am        E            G
Turn     off    the light
Am      E                G
Its       time to say goodnight.
    Em                     G
The roads are all clear,
             Em                       G    (G string bass note, and  strummed chord x3)
And we haven't got a care.

C.            G
Get.....  Ready...
        C              ­     G
And pack... your bags...
             C                  G
You're in.... for the best trip...
C              G    (G string bass note, and  strummed chord x3)
Of...your life.

Am      E              G
I......   can't go on this way
Am            E          G
Each and every ******* day
Em                             G
I think I need some-one
            Em                              G   (G string bass note, and  strummed chord x3)
To help show.. me... the way

Everyone wants to just stick it in the hole,
And pound the pin in,
Ask them to tie some nylons with their hands,
And they're all pinkies.
Kids these days,
Can't even play an F chord,
Three string chords
And verse chorus verse,
It gets worse every year.
Thank the lord above, that guitar geeks are born periodically,
To make that thing neigh, like a Bad Horsie,
And prove, a three piece garage band can still rock the block.
For every one hundred and fifty parttime power chord players, hiding their lack of practice behind digital effects,
And excessive distortion,
There's one Jimmy Hendrix or Dimebag Darrel born.
I see the brows furrowing now,
As you wonder, how does this geezer know about Dimebag?
Just because I prefer the feel and vibration, of a classical guitar in my arms,
Doesn't mean I don't Listen to Sabbath,
and I was a Dime bag fan in the seventies.
Power chords are fine by me,
It makes my tutoring sessions, much easier,
I don't even bother trying to convince them that there are more chords,
Unless, they have that thing about them.
That little floating sign that says
"You are special",
Or the eight year old,
Who mysteriously has thick callouses on his fingers,
Even though he never picked up a guitar before.
What I'm trying to say is,
There is nothing wrong with the kids these days.
I hated learning my scales too.
Rock and roll is here to stay,
As long as the next Hendrix isn't
Aborted.

He cups the bowl
With a pocket bible,
Pulls in a few more short gasps,
Trying to fill every last inch
Of the fleshy air sponge in his chest.
He rises up, as his lungs expand,
And puts down the pipe,
Caressing the tiny bible in his hands,
Absentmindedly.

He smiles...
A gray-white rose unfurls from his lips.

He slides the pipe across the table,
I turn it down...
I am only twelve.

"Suit yourself"
He says...
His voice like vaseline on silk...
A hair mussing, makeup smearing,
***** tearing voice.
I think,
'Man, I would **** to have a voice like that.'

"Me...I love the stuff. That's what its all about."
He says.

"That's what what's all about?"
I stammer.

He smiles,
And I shiver involuntarily,
As if waves of cool radiate from that smile.
This guy was a small town demigod,
Mind you.

The coolest car,
The blackest leather jacket.
He was the front man
For a local rock band,
And all the girls wrote his name in their notebooks,
With little hearts, and declarations of their love.

"Life, man, life.
If you like killing, or kissing,
Smoking or *******,
Do it.
If you do you will stay loose.
You stay loose , you be cool.
You be cool, the world is gravy,
You dig?
Life is a custom Mustang
Made just for you.
You got to ride that some of a *****,
Until you run out of gas.
So always take the roads
that lead to things you love,
And forget what the road signs say...
Make your own detours."


Four months later,
He was killed in a car wreck.
He was drinking wild turkey,
While getting road head.
They found a half ounce of grass
In his hip pocket.
The girl walked away with nothing worse
Than a broken arm.
They couldn't repair the red and pink glass shredded mess of his face...
His funeral was closed casket, and I didn't go.

The next day I spent the money I was saving
For a ten speed, on a used, Washburn acoustic guitar.
After all...I already had a set of wheels, that I was born with.
I hopped behind the wheel that day,
And since then, I have lived my life, my way.
I've had enough downs,
To prove my decision making skills are flawed,
But I followed my joy, and the things I love,
And I have no regrets...
Hell, I'm still alive,
And I ain't ran out of gas yet.

There's a hearse next door,
but I don't know who its for.
The driver is wearing a midnight black derby,
and a midnight black sports coat.
Its plain to see, he's not in a hurry i
I hope its not my fault.

There's an officer at my door,
he has a warrant,
my house he'd like to explore.
There's a goat's head in the tub.
Luckily,
it's invisible.

The rats are building bombs in the walls,
I can hear eggtimers ticking, as I walk through the halls,
sinister squeaking, and cracks in the plaster,
from "The Seventeen dead!" M-80 disaster.
The exterminator says I'm bonkers,
but he runs a white slave ring in Yonkers.

You call me paranoid,
from collected chemical indiscretions,
and laugh as I keep peeking out the blinds,
but even if you don't see them,
they're coming from all directions.
They will get you too, in time.

Maniacs are Golden,
that's why God loves them so much,
they're the only ones that keep in touch,
with both him,
and the Devil.
Maniacs are Golden.
Cut them open and see.

Am                           G            Cmaj7    E
In the kingdom of Fenrey, a tale is told
Am                    G                  Cm7                ­        E
of tyrannical king, who ruled the kingdom of old
Am                     G                 Cm7                    E
Nard was his name, and warfare was his game
Am                              G                         Cm7                 E
sent so many of his people to death, its such a shame

E                     G               E             Am
But, Nard is dead, his people rejoice
E                      G                   E
he lost his head, he didn't have any choice

Am                         G                   Cm7             E
Late one winter night, in the palace of the king
Am                           G                        Cm7                     E
Nard's son Prince Zard, slipped into his room and beheaded him
Am                           G                       Cm7                     E
Oh look there goes Nard's head, rolling down the stairs
Am                         G                  Cm7               E
and It comes as no surprise, that no one cares.

E                     G               E             Am
That Nard is dead, his people rejoice
E                      G                   E
he lost his head, he didn't have any choice

Vocal solo, with Verse chords, for eight measures,
(one verse length)

E                     G               E             Am
But, Nard is dead, his people rejoice
E                      G                   E
he lost his head, he didn't have any choice

E             G           Am
Farmer Giles of Ham
E             G                Am
Was just an ordinary man.
E                      G                  Am  
But when a giant came to destroy the village
E                    G                   Am
Giles ran outside and shot that giant in the nose
Am
and don't you know, that giant never came back to Ham
Am      E
Ever again

E                                Am
He's farmer Giles of Ham
E                              G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man.

E              G                     Am
The evil dragon Chrysophylax
E               G                    Am
was terrorizing the countryside
E               G                    Am                          
king Augustus sent a messenger to Ham, he said
E               G                    Am
"Giles he's our man, and if he cant do it
Am
no one can. Fetch me the farmer,
Am                       E
farmer Giles of Ham

E                                Am
He's farmer Giles of Ham
E                              G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man.

E                    G                 Am
With his coat made of iron rings
E                     G                  Am
and the sword given to him by the king
E                     G                   Am                
Giles went to the dragons lair that day
E                       G                    Am              
Poor dragon had to give its whole hoard away
Am
and as you can imagine that made the dragon
Am               E
very very mad

E                                Am
At farmer Giles of Ham
E                              G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man.

E                        G                  Am
Giles later went on to be the king
E                         G                        Am
but he didn't forget his friends i Ham
E                                          G                                  Am
when he moved into castle he brought them all along
E                             G                 Am
he even brought his talking dog, and if you recall the dog,
Am                            E
the dogs name is Gram

E                                Am
At farmer Giles of Ham
E                              G
farmer Giles of Ha am am
G
he's just an ordinary man