Be Careful & Beautiful
(The dangerous lines we
tread)
She went off like a cannonball
& left me for dead
(I sat still like a shotgun
jugglin the pieces of my head)
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
What if i'da punched somebody
in the mouth
or even pulled my gun
Made the sign of the cross
or just went on the run
maybe I shoulda smashed up my
car or set
somethin on fire
(it always worked before)
or drank the whole goddam bottle
or tore apart the book
we never read
Wouldn't it be cool if we could really
go to heaven
really go to hell
Imagine if we were children
what a time we'd have
(we coulda just dropped it all)
Dropped it like a match
(Pulled the fuckin' trigger)
in the mouth
or even pulled my gun
Made the sign of the cross
or just went on the run
maybe I shoulda smashed up my
car or set
somethin on fire
(it always worked before)
or drank the whole goddam bottle
or tore apart the book
we never read
Wouldn't it be cool if we could really
go to heaven
really go to hell
Imagine if we were children
what a time we'd have
(we coulda just dropped it all)
Dropped it like a match
(Pulled the fuckin' trigger)
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Set yourself free
into the empty choir
(absence of sound)
Just come along with me
to all the places we have not been
when time bends around again
throught the spaces
we burned holes in
Yeah it hurts to see the light
squinting from your cave
we saw the dreams inside out baby
inside out
(and upside down)
You'll always ride with me
into the empty choir
(absence of sound)
Just come along with me
to all the places we have not been
when time bends around again
throught the spaces
we burned holes in
Yeah it hurts to see the light
squinting from your cave
we saw the dreams inside out baby
inside out
(and upside down)
You'll always ride with me
Sunday, June 19, 2011
she couldn't understand
the kind of man
that didn't want to
play her game
she seemed like gold
that couldn't be sold
but when the glass breaks
its such a
shame
He had a heart like a lion
in a cage
that just coudn't be staged
there was no way to predict
When he'd shoot from the hip
or just let everything stay the
same
Any kind of change or
way to re-arrange the
illusion without diffusion
was the way he liked
to pray
(anyway...)
the kind of man
that didn't want to
play her game
she seemed like gold
that couldn't be sold
but when the glass breaks
its such a
shame
He had a heart like a lion
in a cage
that just coudn't be staged
there was no way to predict
When he'd shoot from the hip
or just let everything stay the
same
Any kind of change or
way to re-arrange the
illusion without diffusion
was the way he liked
to pray
(anyway...)
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Twist it whatever way
you want too
Rationalize, justify, rage,
hate, fear, love, defy, argue
disagree, expose, snow, fake
me
Hide me
deny me
forget me
disrespect me
long for me
walk away from me
turn your back on me
embrace the lie in front of your
face
Its written on my knuckles
it's written on my soul
I never lied about who I am
never showed you nothin that wasn't
true
I'm a mother-fucker
poet-biker warrior
wanderer
shaman
eagle-flyer
ain't no box for
you to stick that
in
if you can't be it
you'd better
forget it...
you want too
Rationalize, justify, rage,
hate, fear, love, defy, argue
disagree, expose, snow, fake
me
Hide me
deny me
forget me
disrespect me
long for me
walk away from me
turn your back on me
embrace the lie in front of your
face
Its written on my knuckles
it's written on my soul
I never lied about who I am
never showed you nothin that wasn't
true
I'm a mother-fucker
poet-biker warrior
wanderer
shaman
eagle-flyer
ain't no box for
you to stick that
in
if you can't be it
you'd better
forget it...
Friday, June 17, 2011
Salute 2 Brian Gordon
years and years of
cheap motels,
roadside diners
watery coffee
greasy pie,
(bus rides on what
sometimes seemed like
dirt roads)
empty stands
lackluster anti-fans
stupid names,
like
Iron-pigs
A lot of dreams must have
died,
before he came to the mound
an aging man with a newly
formed cutter
Those bright crisp lights of
the Bronx
Those o so clean and o so straight
blue & white pinstripes
6 innings & 2 runs later
those ornery fans
came to their feet
His father among the crowd
lifted as if by a cloud
for the ovation
cheap motels,
roadside diners
watery coffee
greasy pie,
(bus rides on what
sometimes seemed like
dirt roads)
empty stands
lackluster anti-fans
stupid names,
like
Iron-pigs
A lot of dreams must have
died,
before he came to the mound
an aging man with a newly
formed cutter
Those bright crisp lights of
the Bronx
Those o so clean and o so straight
blue & white pinstripes
6 innings & 2 runs later
those ornery fans
came to their feet
His father among the crowd
lifted as if by a cloud
for the ovation
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
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