Someone to tell

I'm sitting in the lounge at Dublin airport, next to Bob Geldof. I was happy to meet someone who knew what I was talking about when I told him I was excited to be seeing Robert Wyatt in concert tonight in Brighton and Nick Lowe in London on Sunday night. Celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary with Indi, Mira, and Jai. I'm a lucky guy!

Stay Young & Beautiful

Kind of a modest effort.  But it goes to a very nice tune!


Stay young and beautiful if
You’d be adored
Once you are old and ugly
You’ll be ignored

You’ll be a laughingstock
And piteous
If you try to be loved when
You’re hideous

Old people are called cute
But let us face the truth
You’re lost once you’ve lost
Your youth

Lovers of beauty are so
Easily bored
Stay young and beautiful if
You’d be adored

Happy Ending

Waking up in someone else's outfit
Waking from somebody else's dream
Feeling small, fruit and hope and useless
I realise, things are what they seem

I realise the limits of my powers
In someone else's undershirt and briefs
I realise I'm running on momentum
Far beyond the point of no relief

CHORUS
How long, how long
How long, how long
I wonder
Days and nights go by,
Extensions pending
Then a mighty clap
Of awesome thunder
Here it comes
Here comes my happy ending
Here comes my happy ending

Waking up in someone else's bedroom
Waking naked, standing by the door
Feeling small, fruit and hope and useless
It seems I'm not a child anymore

It seems that I've departed from the blueprint
In someone else's therapy and sheets
It seems I may be gaining some momentum
Far beyond the point of no belief

CHORUS

BRIDGE
Someone like me
Someone like me
What a pleasure to be
Someone like me

Waking up in someone else's problem
In the dark and running out of air
Feeling small, fruit and hope and useless
I realise, I'm not really there

I realise I'm prob'ly incidental
In someone else's dressing gown and socks
I realise I'm running on momentum
I fear I may be running out the clock

CHORUS

There comes a day I think I shan't be waking
Making love in your grandfather's coat
Feeling small, fruit and hope and useless
Feeling like a poem someone wrote

I realise conclusions can be painful
Conclusions may be difficult and slow
It seems that it can help to have momentum
It helps to have somewhere to go

CHORUS

Happy birthday, Jymn

Your love is like a rainbow, falling all around my shoulders.

BRB

I got your call, I saw the text
And we all know what’s coming next
I know there’s work to do right now
And rage at you-know-who right now
But I’m not ready for this parade
The button broke, the ribbon’s frayed
I’ll sit now with the empty glass
But thank you though, I’m glad you asked

I do not have the strength to sort
Through all the shades of black
I just need a couple moments
Sorry.  Be right back.


The silence when you turn from others
Sometimes heals and sometimes smothers
I guess the grief and the frustration
Will not be calmed by isolation
We all must stand and all stand tough
It’s just, my best’s not good enough
Ah no, it’s fine. I’ll be OK.
Just not right now.  Just not today.

I shouldn’t fear the darkness
Nor the bright light in the crack
I just need a couple moments
Sorry.  Be right back

Happy birthday baby

you did it again!

Democracy has failed

I suppose this is the result of reading Plato during election season.  Many of my fellow Americans, however, have said recently that their fellow Americans should not be allowed to vote.

Democracy, my friends, is a joke
It’s a bag of greasy donuts and a 36-ounce Coke
It’s Taylor Swift and Kim Kardashian
Frankenstein shoes worn as fash-i-on

We had a mighty ship of state
But now that ship has sailed
Take a look around you, friends
Democracy has failed

The people, friends, are a beast
For facts they care not in the least
Life’s a matter of team sports
The color of your cap and shorts

We can no longer fool ourselves
The truth has been unveiled
Take a look around you, friends
Democracy has failed

Letting the people decide is always a mistake
They’ll gorge themselves on grocery-store cake
The kind with cheap Crisco icing
Available for you at cut-rate pricing

We’re holding our breath, awaiting the worst
It’s time we just exhaled
Take a look around you, friends
Democracy has failed

Kind of Like the Flimflam Blues

A couple months ago, I guess on the release of the Cutting Edge collection, I was messing around with some Dylany stuff, but now that I know it's literature I'll share it with you my dearest friends.  Feel free to play along.

I got a woman back in Jackson

She’s the only one who knows my name

I got a woman back in Jackson

She’s the only one who knows my name

I gave her my picture but
She only hung the frame

The medicine show man

Told me all about his roots

Yeah he talked about tradition

Told me all about his roots

I said, well that all sounds fine, dad
But tell me, where’d you get them boots?

Well the flimflam man he told me

I was nothing but a thief

Yes, that flimflam man he told me

I was nothing but a thief

I said, Mister, I stole your hat
But I left you your belief

The Battle for New Jersey

(Chorus)
They're coming for your way of life
They're coming for your wife
They're coming to be free
With your sons and daughters
Close your eyes, make for the back door
And keep going, keep on going

It started in a fishing town
It started in a factory
I just got tired of looking down
On all I saw around me
I just got tired of losing out
My life became a mystery
A plot I could not penetrate
Sullen, mindless misery
The TV shows I watch at night
Replay the same old story
Everybody loses out
There is no kind of glory

CHORUS

First it was the presence here
It was logical, necessary
Everybody knew his place
N degrees below me
When did truth dawn on me
When did I see the danger
When did I finally recognise
The enemy is the stranger

CHORUS

It started out in high school
But I try not to remember
Everything I said, I did
Neither sweet nor tender
Everything made me sweat
I simmered in my panic
Except for pickup basketball
And getting stoned up in the attic

CHORUS

So here we are, swords drawn
On the Internet, blogging
It's life or death, or anything
To keep me online, logging
They'll never take my freedom
They'll never take my tool
I gave up a long time ago
I'm no one else's fool

CHORUS

Let's have three cheers for Tracy
Her birthday is today
We'll have a hip and another hip
And end with a hooray

Happy birthday, Tracette

Work in Progress

Once upon a time, when I was a youngster

The city was my shopping mall and the streets were my dumpster

We’d do shots of laughing gas and boot up itching powder

I’d feel a little nauseous while the music just got louder

By day we’d get our hair cut, by night crash discotheques

Take a couple angry pills, have unclimactic sex

Red in tooth and nail

And I’m an angry white male

What happened to the girls I knew, they’re ugly and they’re fatter

And they try to fill me up with chitter chitter chatter

I make sure all the pretty gals know they need to smile

Especially when they can see that I am drunk on rage and bile

You’ve seen it all on television, it’s an American disease

But I tell the ladies: You’d look so good on your knees

Or you could take the veil
For an angry white male

Cowboys in White Linnen

There was a cowboy known as Frank

Recited Rilke when he drank

Which, in fact, was rather often

He drank himself into a cowboy coffin

There was a cowboy we called Ace

Lived in a dopey state of grace

Never clever, not a player

Now light a candle, say a prayer

CHORUS:

Wrap the cowboys in white linen

The parade is now beginning

Beat the drum and blow the fife

And mourn one more lost cowboy’s life

There was a cowboy we called Curly

He hit his peak a little early

He liked his cowboy lovin’ rough

Until one day he’d had enough

There was a cowboy, Little Timmy

All he said was, “Gimme, gimme.”

If he’d not been such a fiend

He might not have been quarantined

CHORUS:

Wrap the cowboys in white linen

The parade is now beginning

Carry roses for the pall

To muffle the dirt clods as they fall

Cowboy Jack was quite a banger

All he had was his own anger

Then someone shot off his face

Sorry, Jack. Wrong time, wrong place

When I think of Cowboy Kevin

I wish that I believed in heaven

That, along with other friends,

I’d believe I’d see his face again

CHORUS:

Wrap the cowboys in white linen

The parade is now beginning

Beat the drum and blow the fife

And mourn one more lost cowboy’s life

If you haven't read this yet, do so.

Flag Half Mast

I heard the news
Read the story
Lower Old Glory:
Flag half mast

From my house
I didn’t hear the shot
But doubt it not:
Flag half mast

So much fear
So much rage
Uncared for bodies
Left on-stage

And mine the shame
Mine the debt
I won’t forget:
Flag half mast

Thank you, Mister Matador!

Well the gents down at the bullring
Knew they had a sure thing
With their swords and capes and fancy sequin pants
And in almost no time
It’ll be their showtime
Where they get to do their famous dance

And the bulls are so excited
They really are delighted
Everyone’s come out for bullfight time
Though the show’s a little heinous
The just want to entertain us
And let us see the fun they have while dying

[Chorus:] All the bulls are singing in the ring tonight
So happy to be in the fight
Yes they’ll all go down singing, “Gracias Señor.
We thank you, Mister Matador.”


Well the ladies are quite flirty
But they don’t want to get dirty
They’d find this whole show a dreadful bore
They’d twirl their umbrellas
And quite ignore the fellows
If they couldn’t see a little blood and gore

But when those fellows lunge
And make the final plunge
The bulls will all go down without complaint
If they’ve helped us make good
In proving our own manhood
They die with the sweet smile of a saint

[Chorus:] All the bulls are singing in the ring tonight
Glad they’re included in this sacred rite
Yes they’ll all go down singing, “Gracias Señor.
We thank you, Mister Matador.”

Zero Zip Zilch

Following upon my X song, this is my Z song, a Zydeco of course.  I hope you can hear the washboard as you read it.


In the olden days, no one would ever say
That zero was a number
It’s not an amount that you can count
It’s an absence and a hunger

I said hey----  zibba zabba
I got zero zip zilch nothing nada
I said hey---- pretty mama
The zero zip zilch I have is all for you.

And there can be no doubt, when you multiply it out
You’ll always get the same figure
Zero times one, or times one hundred and one
It just doesn’t get any bigger

I said hey----  zibba zabba
I got zero zip zilch nothing nada
I said hey---- pretty mama
The zero zip zilch I have is all for you.

Happy birthday, Critter.  You make me blank.

X Is For You

This song is the result of 1) hearing a Beatles A-Z show on an oldies station and realizing I don't having any songs whose titles begin with K, Q, U, V, X or Z and 2) playing online Scrabble.

We know X is for xylophone
And X is for X-ray
But since you left me I have learned
Some new words of the day:

X is for xerosis, which is abnormal dryness
X is for King Xerxes, who was a Persian highness
X can be for xu, a coin one-hundredth of the dong
X is for xylem, that moves nutrients along

X is for xanthochroid, with light skin and light hair
X can be for xenon, used for a flash lamp or a flare
X is for the xyster, with which you can scrape bones
X is xenophobia, to which small minds are prone

And X is for you my dear
For there can be no doubt
That you remain the ex
That I cannot x out.

X is for xenogenesis, when baby’s unlike his kin
X is xeroderma, a dryness of the skin
X is for xerography, from which we get Xerox
X is for the xenocryst, a crystal found in rocks

A little word that starts with X is the Greek letter Xi
Used sometimes in physics or in a fraternity
Mrs. Socrates, Xanthippe, had a name that starts with X
And X is for xylophagous, wood-eating insects

X is for you, I know you know
What I am talking about
For you remain the ex
That I cannot x out.

And X can be exalt, exhort
Exemplary, exahalation
Exchange, excise, excite, exclude
Or excommunication

X can be for Xanthus, a city in old Lycia
X can be for lots of things, well you get the idea
A kiss or hidden treasure are often marked with an X
And X-rated means, Oh boy!  There is hot sex!

X is for you, upon
My honor as a scout
For you remain the ex
That I cannot x out.

Today's Verse: Maundy Thursday (24 March), 2016

This little song came to me as I emerged from a long nap on the flight this morning from Shanghai to Singapore. I hadn't seen your preceding two lyrics, but when I read them I felt that this one could almost be a reply to them, or in some way a continuation or extension of them.

I wasn't born good looking
Kids call me a clown
Stray dogs take my measure
Then they follow me around

I don't think that I am lonely
I haven't been for long
I keep my good self company
And drink my whiskey strong

I see the world's on fire
It's going mad with pain
Confusion makes me shudder
And this is what I say

Fuck it
There'll come another day
Fuck it
You see, the children play
Fuck it
I'm happy anyway
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it

Some people think we're hopeless
Disaster looms ahead
Some people think we're trapped in sin
Unborn, the living dead

I once thought I was special
A spirit told me so
Destined like a savior
Then it let me go

To wonder what I'm good for
An odd and awkward thing
Part boy, part man, part animal
Down the road I sing

Fuck it, etc

(Bridge)
If I knew
Wrong from right
Maybe I could do it

If I knew
Right from wrong
There'd be nothing to it

Looking back I see a nightmare
From which I can't awake
But that's all in the past now
The future's a clean slate

The clean slate's an illusion
To keep my pressure low
To keep me on a simmer
To keep me in the show

I've vowed to keep together
What Mom and Dad passed on
I have a deep affection for
The people in this song

(Sing along everybody)

Fuck it, etc.

Repeat 1st 3 verses

Fuck it, etc.

Even Dogs Have Dreams

I finished two songs today.  Just remember, they'll be much better with music.


Have you ever seen a sleeping dog
Running, or so it seems?
He’ll give a little bark or growl
Yes even dogs have dreams.

I lie, neither awake nor asleep
Between the two extremes
And though I neither bark nor growl
I too have my dreams

Oh I’m low
But you know
What they say:
Every dog will have his day

Maybe I have nothing left
But clutching at moonbeams
Well if I must, I’ll live on that
Yes even dogs have dreams

As Long As I Have You

It may rain and snow

Freezing winds may blow

I won’t feel it, I won’t know

As long as I have you

Let the rain clouds close

Let there be tornadoes

Ice caps may melt though once they froze

As long as I have you

Let buildings tumble

Cities crumble, be laid humble

Let the whole world crash

Turn to trash, smoke and ash

Let refugees

Wander through the seas

Stricken down by foul disease

As long as I have you

Let the lame, the blind

Get left far behind

It’s not fair, but I don’t mind

As long as I have you

Bye Jimmy, the talking dummy

RIP Dan
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPPsU-P5V-k

Waving Goodbye

Have listened to Waving Goodbye a few times now. The lyrics work well, much stronger sung than read, which I guess was the idea. My favourites are Jack of Diamonds (nice to hear your playing) and Papa Stay and Fight. I'm still not warm to Dennis' vocal personality. Oh well. I know some benighted souls struggled similarly with the majestic Firestone vocal delivery! How did the show go? I liked the promo film.

News and verse

Hi Johny,
Got the CD, but have yet to listen. Thanks. I'll listen when I return from a week of scuba diving in the Philippines. I need a break.
Here's a challenging one, just for you!

Bad Easter

There are a lot of things
That scare me more than death ...
Like Mexico ...

Like Monaco
Crap is on the table
Then crap falls on the floor ...
Like destiny ...

Like history
A shit is gonna crush
A man that's like his dad ...
Like Sophocles ...

Like Everest
Why not bet it all, all
On a real long term view ...
Like Calvary ...

Like infinity
Drop into a whirlpool
Call home when you emerge ...
A melody ...
A melody ...
A melody ..
Like a melody
A long, sweet, twisted melody

If you want, there will still be plenty to see

My friend Chris made this video to go along with Along Came Jones: Waving Goodbye show.  She asked me to write something about traveling by bus, and then made this fantastic evocation of the crepuscular consciousness of the open road:

http://www.alongcamejonesmusic.com/videos-3/