Loneliness is the wild river we all drink from and bathe in.
The twisting journey to sail to clean western skies is bordering on impossible,
but can end rapidly by beautiful young sirens and boldly bored sailors.



Old Horn dogs howl for companionship into the dark night but receive none.
The disheartened dreamers gaze at the shimmering stars wishing they would be extinguished,
and many a pistolero spend their brief lives freely with reckless abandon.



All excuses add up to a superfluous score to a strike out that can't be won.
Rather it is fought with a heavy hand, knife or gun Fate can never be overcome.
Our flickering life all is but a shadow underneath a harsh Nevada sun.

Katie loves gin
and the way it makes her act
She states her thoughts about the world
as if each of them were fact

It makes Adam feel
                    Like she's the one

Because Adams been lost
since the day he first found
the first pretty girl
he made make a pretty sound

Her name was Sara
                    And they’re still friends

Sara liked to move fast
and liked to leave even faster
until she found the perfect ****
who she's dubbed The Master

His name is Max
                    And he keeps secrets well

He only sleeps with women
when he's drunk and on the run
He's never shared the secret
of where he holstered up his gun

A pistolero of a man
                    Who's name is Tom

Who only met with Max
when he was mad at his bride
Who had a secret of her own
of who she sees on the side

A therapist named Paul
                    Who pretends to listen well

Paul likes to drink
on the job he calls weighty
and finds irony in his favorite patient
a little drunk named Katie

Whom he's often told
                    Should speak her mind

So she had a party
and told friends to invite friends
But once the therapist arrived
it began to spell the end

Secrets spilled
                    And people cried

Tom and his wife
ended up in a divorce
During which he left Max
in an attempt to make it work

And now Max drinks
                    Almost every night

He almost always ends up
on the couch in Sara's house
after putting down his bottle
and getting lost in her blouse

She tells all her friends
                    She thinks she's in love

It forces Adam into envy
who try's to make something out of lust
with a crazy little drinker
for whom he could never be enough

She's already been asleep
                    Wrapped in a doctors arm

Who's already unraveled
                    This strange ball of yarn

I’m turning from Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit
taking a streetcar named Desire to Monday Night Raw
after the oppression of the law got stuck in my craw
because the discretion of the flawed became the voice of God.

I’d always relied on the kindness of strangers
only to find the Million Dollar Man’s danger
directing the Army Rangers to Jesus’ manger
letting the Undertaker deal with the remainder.

I relinquished my rightful place
to the bank’s Crippler Crossface
taking everything until I lost grace
going into a holocaust craze.

I’m upset about the places I can’t go
because I’ll be ***** by Marlon Brando
when I ask the referee for a hand though
he just responds with a ****** no.

I have retired my display of Vivian Leigh
now Whatever by Our Lady Peace plays
as the Rabid Wolverine walks to the stage
to fight the Big Boss Man in a cage.

I gave up teaching class to my sister
to fight an *** who’s a mister
whose slaps can blister
so he blasts this spinster.

The law is a tougher opponent than Eddie Guerrero
so I apply my aptitude into becoming a pistolero
after getting jabbed by my French Quarter pharaohs
I can feel resistance down in my Marc Mero.

I start to take steroids
because there are boys
whose terror noise
impairs my poise.

I go all out performing flying headbutts
fighting until I see the dead’s guts
exterminating enemies like bed bugs
but then I start to dread hugs.

Now I assume a stranger’s spite
so I can immediately fight
I’m swallowed by night
wearing these tights.

In my rage I **** my wife and son
now my anger is no longer fun
even if it came from their gun
it’s me who’s the loneliest one.

I changed from a lady to a wrestler losing my ****** mind
fighting Mankind while stepping on landmines
until I can’t find any grand signs
and I’m anger defined.

In modern days
People look for ways
To make easy plays
So they start to sway
To the thoughtless haze

An American election
Made a crazy selection
A reality show contestant
With a raging *******
When he goes to Saudi Arabia
To grab women by the *****

Capitalizing on stupidity
And a lack of lucidity
Mixing with rigidity
Stealing a nation’s divinity
Making them see frigidly
Not how they saw originally
He claims to be a savior
Of a different flavor
Of businessman labor
But he’s just another slaver
Money trader
Power craver

The imbecile scarecrow
That’s our missile pharaoh
Thinks he’s a pistolero
Because of the phalanx
Of failed banks
And trailing tanks
Covering his flanks

Cutting taxes for the rich
Putting us in a deficit ditch
Not allowing refugees to switch
Making a nuclear proliferation pitch
The military industrial complex
Gives his presidency context
And banks
Give thanks

I’m anxious
The bank just
Outranked us
He proclaims plus
While people go bust
For rich man’s lust
Then hot button issues
Are politically misused
To maintain lit feuds
Avoiding snakebit clues
He’s leading us to lose

I hope he can spare me
His selective austerity
When he’s ferally caroling
For defense share holding
Contractors who’re molding
Policy that will be folding
The same people scolding
Any disagreement noting
To deny clarity coding

He has a negative mentality
Of manipulative speciality
That tricks his dense
Constituents
Who say when it comes to business
That he’s shown mental fitness
But when it comes to diplomacy
Even the dullest see
He’s unfit to lead
So foreign agents take advantage
Of his naive damage

He praises the dictator of North Korea
But treats Canada and China like gonorrhea
Starting a trade war
That made more
Bankrupt stores
While human rights
Elude his sight
He doesn’t mourn or miss
The murdered journalist
He envies Saudi fists
That can quiet lips
For listening he skips
So the world is split
From words he spits
Causing tantric fits
That can’t be fixed
By medical kits

His juvenile military obsession
Leads to heightened global aggression
Like he’s teaching a noble lesson
Yet his own sins don’t see confession
He doesn’t ride a steed
Of humble needs
But unfolds greed
While victims bleed
So his petulant breed
Can excessively feed
But they’re not brothers
They hate each other
Everyone he hires
He eventually fires
Almost the entire
Cabinet expired

He’s an oblong
Sad song
Bad dog
Mad hog
And a ding ****
The size of King Kong
Because he’s so singsong
While he brings bombs

He’s the glorious leader
Of progress impeders
And country defeaters
Who are delighting
At everyone fighting
God will be smiting
Those that are biting
To keep us from uniting