Adam & Eve on a Raft 4: Spinning on the Dance Floor

The woman speaks:
And eventually they had to stop and just go somewhere and get a drink.  They were tired and it didn’t feel like they were getting anywhere. It wasn’t a very nice place but it wasn’t too loud and it didn’t smell like last night’s party. It was happy hour, so they could get a brandy & soda for $3.

The early evening chatter in the bar was slowly changing from work to banter and flirting, although no one was laughing way too loudly yet or just repeating themselves over and over. It was just an OK place to sit and rest and not talk much and not think about things too much. To get used to no more paradise, just thorn and thistle and the sweat of your brow.

David Bowie was on the jukebox or whatever singing, “You, you can be mean and I, I’ll drink all the time,” and without saying anything she nodded at the little open space and they put their drinks down at the same time, more or less, and stood up and he smiled just a very little bit. It was time to dance.

Song: Spinning on the Dance Floor

You and I are on the dance floor, spinning

We don’t see the cheap décor, spinning

And the tourists and the hicks

They’re only here to pick up chicks

No they don’t know there’s something more, spinning

As I look into your face, spinning

We’re all alone in this place, spinning

Those silly girls are so mistaken

Waiting to get their pictures taken

They don’t know there’s something more, spinning

While we’re dancing, while we’re spinning

In your eyes I think I see

Worlds exploding, worlds beginning

A small map of infinity

In a pond, amoebas make no sound, spinning

Eddies flowing underground, spinning

I only pity those poor clucks

Who grope and feel each other up

And can’t see the galaxies go round, spinning

Adam & Eve on a Raft 5: After the Fall

The man speaks:
After the fall, not only do we need to work to earn a living by the sweat of our brow, and the ground only produces thorns and thistles, and that’s how it goes until you [finger across the throat gesture], but also, somehow, it seems that I’m the only one who can see your beauty now. Sometimes I can hardly see anything else, and yet somehow it’s been hidden from the rest of the world. Maybe this was intended as a blessing, since otherwise the world would spin completely off its tracks, or perhaps just stop dead, entranced. My own heart sometimes feels ready to explode, to leave its shards scattered throughout the world for future generations to collect and reconstruct and learn from.

When I was created, when we were created, I had your face. I mean, we had the same face once.  We shared it.  That was alright. Sometimes after we’ve been talking all night I see my face in the mirror and it seems wrong to see that face I see when I’m shaving, instead of the beautiful woman-face I’ve just spent so much time looking at.  The face I lost, I guess. No, that’s not it. The recollection of the face that was mine before the one I have now.

But what puzzles me is that you yourself don’t seem to be able to see your own beauty.  Maybe you don’t have anywhere to look. Maybe that’s what’s made it hard for you to see it.

Look in my eyes, you can see it there.  I’ll try not to blink. I don’t want the world to accidentally come to an end.

Song: Still Life (with scone)

I’m rushing to get to the place we had named 

Then stop on the sidewalk: you’re perfectly framed 

By the front window of the café 

A still from some cinema verité  

Just this: 

Still life  

You’re sitting at the table alone 

Frowning at some stupid thing on your phone 

Without really looking, you’re trying to pick up 

The scone sitting next to your coffee cup 

Just this:

Still life  

Perfectly frozen, this moment a picture 

The window a frame, you within it 

Not quite real, not quite a fiction 

A memory, a dream, something infinite  

You see me and wave, the spell is then broken 

I’m not quite in a dream, not yet awoken 

Between two worlds, I can’t quite decide 

Then I smile, wave back and go inside 

Is this 

Still life? 

Adam & Eve on a Raft 6: The Language of the Birds

The  woman speaks:
What bothered him, what drove him sort of nuts, was that once, he had understood the language of the birds. The language of all the animals, actually. They were as much fun to listen to as you’d think they’d be. The birds especially. But it’s not like they were actually saying anything. They would say things like, “Yoo hoo” or “Here I am” or “Coming.” The baby birds would say, “Feed me feed me food food food.”

The man speaks: But that’s what was so nice. It wasn’t words, like you hear all the time now. I mean words are fun, I love words, but there’s this very beautiful thing that’s not words, but it’s still, I don’t know, still speech, or still language.  Expression, I guess. Expression without words, and that’s what he’d lost, that’s what bothered him, he’d swapped one kind of knowledge for another.

The woman speaks: Sometimes it would come back, like if he were sitting at the beach listening to the waves, then he’d hear a sound and know that he was hearing the language of the birds again. But if he listened to it too closely then right away he’d lose it and it was words again, words all lined up in a row, not the beautiful language of the birds.

The man speaks: That’s what naming the animals had been like, honestly. You just listened to what they said and it wasn’t really a trick to name them. It was just what they said.  He’d heard that the angels had tried to name the animals and hadn’t been able to, but of course they couldn’t. They couldn’t hear them. I mean, no disrespect but they already knew about good and evil, so of course they couldn’t name them.  You know? They didn’t understand what the animals were saying.

The woman speaks: And this is why the idea of a talking bird is so appealing and yet so absurd. What we want to hear them say has nothing to do with what they’re saying. We’re like the angels now, we know too much.

Song: Small Brown Bird

A small brown bird got trapped in the bar

Where I sat drinking my beer all alone

The barman chased her with a bar towel

And shouted, “Go home! Go home!”

Pursued, she flapped one wing

Hopped up and then started to sing

her song 

And I was the only one who heard

That small blue song from that small brown bird

Adam & Eve on a Raft 7: To Begin Again

The woman speaks:
And so they began one more time, adrift once again on their little raft. She, always the more prudent, protected her exile with silence, or at least quiet. Plain sentences, a nice easy place to hide. He preferred to protect himself with words. Silly, foolish monkey words, a fortress of chatter, a sort of short, goofy-looking Tower of Babel to hide behind. And the beautiful thing is that people stopped listening. From her, they waited for some word that would reveal everything, but from him they knew it would just be something stupid, funny but no more than that. He thought he was awfully clever. She knew why he did it, but she wouldn’t mind if he’d shut up.

The man:  For a bit.

To begin is always to begin again.
At first it was just to get away. Anger and frustration and maybe shame, too. But then to begin again was to try to do better. To hope, at least. This time they had a car. That made it easier. This time there was a cat with them, in a carrier in the car. Maybe it didn’t make it easier to have the cat in the carrier in the car, but it did made it easier to have the cat.

Even on the lam, though, you can make choices.  Even when your world is getting smaller, even when it’s very small, you can still make choices. And the world is still so big. Still so awful, still poisoned, but still not without possibility.

Sometimes, to begin again without even hoping that it’ll be better this time because otherwise, what. To at least pretend you have a reason for wherever it is you’re going this time. Something to tell people, even if it’s no escape at all.


Song: This Prison is a Paradise

Once this world was a prison

Where my bond had no price

I’m still trapped but thanks to you

Now this prison is a paradise

I couldn’t bear this tiny world

Marked only by sacrifice

But now you’ve transformed this cage

Now this prison is a paradise

Dreams, ah I have dreams

I see the world breaking at the seams

And yet somehow I’ve found peace

I’ve found release, yes I am released

In the void, in the dark

The slightest light will suffice

Now I bless you and I thank you

Now this prison is a paradise

Adm & Eve on a Raft 8: Florham Park

The woman speaks:
They pulled over and stayed at a hotel for the night. She woke up sometime in the middle of the night and realized it was snowing. Even without looking out the window, she could tell the snow would be piled up several inches high.  Pain in the ass to dig out the car tomorrow. But while it was in the air coming down, it was perfect.  And that light, she thought. Is it from the reflection of the snow on the ground, or does the snow in the air do something with the light?  She wasn’t sure if her eyes were open or closed any more. Even without looking, she could tell that the snow covered everything, everyone, awake and asleep, living and dead. Even without looking, she knew that everything outside had been made more beautiful by being hidden. She sighed and turned over and tried to feel herself disappearing into the snowy night.

Song: Florham Park

Outside snow starts piling deep

Inside you sigh, smile and turn in your sleep

Soft and silent, a white sheet

Like this blanket covering us, warm and sweet

The snow muffles every sound

Casts an eerie pale light on the ground

You lie sleeping next to me

And it’s all that I’ve known of ecstasy

When it ices, hard and gray

That’s tomorrow, I can wait, that’s OK

You lie sleeping next to me

And it’s all that I need to know of ecstasy

Adam & Eve on a Raft 9: Truth Cast Down

The man speaks: They were sitting in a bus station early in the morning, waiting for the first bus out. She was reading and he had his eyes closed. A family was waiting opposite them. A little boy was playing some kind of game on a phone, and his little brother was swinging his feet, kicking his chair.  No one in the bus station was talking much.

The woman speaks: He opened his eyes and said quietly to her, “When God was planning out the creation of the world, he called in the Angels as consultants. A divine project management meeting. And what turned out to be most controversial was the creation of humans.

“The Angel of Love said, ‘Man will be capable of love in ways that no other creature can be.’ The Angel of Peace said, ‘And yet Man will always be fighting.’ The Angel of Justice said, ‘If you want to bring your Law into the world you’ll need Man, as only he can execute it.’ The Angel of Truth said, ‘And yet Man will always lie, to himself most of all.’

“God considered all this, and then suddenly cast the Angel of Truth from Heaven to Earth, and humans were created after all. The other angels didn’t say anything when they saw their colleague cast down, but God told them, ‘Truth will yet spring back from the earth and rise up to heaven.’

“So now Love and Peace and Justice are up in heaven. But Truth is down here with us, trying to make its way back. It’s another puzzle for us to figure out.”  He nodded. “Right?”

The man speaks: “I don’t think the bus will be here for another ten minutes,” she said. “I’m going to go get a cup of coffee.”

Song: At the End of the World

We’re out of gas and out of luck

We’re down to our final buck

Don’t know how we ended up

Here at the end of the world

We’re free, with nowhere to go

All alone under the mistletoe

Stone broke under the rainbow

Here at the end of the world

A bus comes through every week or two

We never really know which day

And every time it just blows right through 

While we watch it drive away

It’s the end of the line, my dear

We’re killing time just waiting here

No one seems to know that we’re

Here at the end of the world

Last time: 

They say that Truth has been cast down

To rise up one day from the ground

Till then, like us it’s hanging ‘round

Here at the end of the world

Adam & Eve on a Raft 10: Postcard to Eva

The woman speaks:
Dear Eva:
I’m sitting in what must be the most boring hotel bar ever, trying not to hear the most boring music ever, faced with the most boring choice of draft beers ever. Miller or Bud Light. I’m trying not to overhear the two idiot dudes bragging about the fifty seven beers and thirty six shots with a chaser of rat poison they drank last night.  The only reason I’m writing instead of calling you is that you asked me not to call too late and I don’t want to, except I can feel myself falling apart. This morning I was still up when the sun rose. I’d heard the mermaids singing, that same old song, come in with us come in with us come in with us come on come on come on, it always sounds so good, but I didn’t listen to them this time. I know that the waters of Paradise can drown you as easily as the fires of Gehenna can burn you.  I waited and watched the last of the old moon setting, just a tiny crescent, the stars doing a perfectly executed fade-out, me in last night’s clothes, the day already a mess before it had begun. And I wondered, can you call light crepuscular in the morning, or only in the evening? I’m sorry you’re not here. I’m really trying not to bother you. I miss you. I love you. See you soon I hope.

Song: I Don't Feel Like Dancing (After Simko)

I have my directions

Written in some uncertain kind of code

I know the groves and orchards

But not the people I see on the road

I have changed my money

For the paper they use here to pay

At stores where they speak another language

Where street lamp shadows slip on the doorways

Oh I don’t feel like dancing

I wish you could hold my hand tonight

No, I don’t feel like dancing

I wish you could hold me tight

‘Cause I don’t feel like dancing any more

It is snow.  It’s snowing.

Footprints running like a line of news

Black marks on the white lined paper:

Only history, just an insult, just a bruise.

The fields here don’t quite fit

Like a map I don’t know how to fold

It’s one story.  It still matters

For as long as that story’s told.

Oh I don’t feel like dancing

I wish you could hold my hand tonight

No, I don’t feel like dancing

I wish you could hold me tight

‘Cause I don’t feel like dancing any more

Even with my eyes closed

I know this place that might have been my home

The woods where trees are still scarred

With my name carved in like a poem.

I barely fill my coat up

The sleeves are empty as the twilight sky

Heading to the empty house where 

I last saw my father cry

Oh I don’t feel like dancing

I wish you could hold my hand tonight

No, I don’t feel like dancing

I wish you could hold me tight

‘Cause I don’t feel like dancing any more

[adapted from The Arrival, by Daniel Simko]

Adam & Eve on A Raft 11: The Two Boys

The woman speaks:
They had two boys and they lost two boys. The younger one was always empty and the older was always full. Empty, like you couldn’t tell what was in him, and full like he was always filling up but never had enough. One of them killed and one of them died and that’s how they lost both of them. The older one was always on the run, always looking for something more. Like his parents in that way. His mother was so happy when he was born. She said that now she was the one who was full.  He was so bright. I mean not just smart and clever, though he was, but there was a brightness, always as a child this beautiful brightness you had to love.

They never understood the younger one. They didn’t understand what was there. Here and then gone. But he loved his parents, that’s for sure. He was quiet, it’s hard to remember him saying anything, but so affectionate. It was hard for them to believe he was dead. It broke their hearts.

The man speaks: Afterwards the older one went off to the Land of Nod. He completely disappeared from their lives.

This is what the Book says: “And Cain spoke with Abel his brother: and it came to pass when they were in the field that Cain rose up against Abel his brother and slew him.”  They never saw either of them again.

Song: The Two Boys

Once there were two boys

Both their parents’ pride

One brother killed

The other brother died

Once there were two boys

Generations turn

Families reverse

The blessing can

Become a parent’s curse

Generations turn

And so the lender 

Becomes the debtor

And the begotten 

Begets the begetter

Sin waits at your door

Yet you still may rule

Was that bleak 

Judgment kind or cruel?

Once there were two boys

Adam & Eve on a Raft 12: Finale/Chatter & the Noise

The woman speaks:  
Once, there were four sages, four holy men, the wisest and holiest men of their generation and they decided that they’d go to Paradise together. One died, one went mad, one became a heretic and only Rabbi Akiva entered and left paradise in peace.

[Vocal reprise of “Adam & Eve on A Raft Theme.”]

The man speaks: 
Right, those four sages who decided they’d go to Paradise together. Their win/loss record is pretty unimpressive. Only one of four. There’s two of us, and it’s not like we’re the wisest and holiest of our generation or anything, so the odds don’t exactly seem to be in our favor. But look, we were born in paradise, we may not be that wise or holy, but that’s our home.

Woman: Was our home. We got asked to leave.

Man: Was our home. Right. Thanks for reminding me, I might have forgotten. Look, I don’t want to return and live there forever, I just want to enter and leave Paradise in peace.  I just want to visit. It was so nice there. All the animals and the trees and flowers and oh man, the food.

Woman: The food was so good. But now we know. We know it wouldn’t be the same.

Man: We should do it. We should just do it. I don’t care if I go mad or become a heretic. I don’t even care that much if I die, although it won’t work if you die. If you die and I, I don’t know, I become the heretic, then no. No, I think I would go mad then.

But what is that ocean that envelops you there? What is it that’s so beautiful that it’s unbearable? Is it love? Is it some kind of overwhelming love that’s not meant for humans?  No, it has to be. It must be for us, that’s where we come from. How could that enormous, tidal, overflowing…I mean, I don’t even know the words for it. How could that kind of love not be for us?

Woman: But what about the other kind of love? You know, the me-and-you kind? I mean, that’s what we have every day. I like it.

Man: I know. I like it too. It’s awfully nice. I guess we belong here now. I guess. It’s just so awful most of the time. No wonder we’re always beginning over again. What if this is really it?

Song: Chatter & the Noise

There is a place without music 

A place of quiet and rest 

There’s a place with no words 

A place for the bless’d.  

And yet dear Lord I love this world 

Its troubles and its joys 

O sinner that I am I love  

The chatter and the noise  

Once you cross the river 

There can be no violence 

No word or sound can ever break 

The beauty of the silence  

And yet dear Lord I love this world 

Its troubles and its joys 

O sinner that I am I love  

The chatter and the noise  

There’s a beautiful garden  

Where the wind never blows 

And the flame that burns there 

Can’t consume the rose  

And yet dear Lord &c.  

Sons of Clovis

nice talking to you last night. Couldn’t reach Jim. This is the painting I was trying to remember: https://g.co/kgs/vibvY4

Nice postcard

Sorry I can’t make it. Have to be in London. Good luck!

SF dates

Hey Johny, I read a post from you on Facebook a while ago promoting your upcoming festival dates. I didn’t quite catch them. Might be possible for me to attend. Please confirm dates.
Wouldn’t it be nice.

When Paul McCartney Died

The greatest shock I ever saw

In black and white and Polaroid

Was Paul McCartney jacking off

Naked and inspired

A genius for banalizing

CHORUS

Nobody likes a nice guy

Nobody wants him to win

Your own worst enemy

You stink, and yet you swim

Cheeky cheeky’s not a standard

To which to measure up

Sneaky sneaky’s cuter and

No one gives a fuck

A doe-eyed smile, compassion flowers

You freely harmonise

Your throbbing underlip fellates

I’m complicit, you beguile

When Paul McCartney died

You felt bad not feeling bad

For feeling bad

You felt bad

For not feeling bad

For feeling sad

You felt bad

How is it, like some fish

Age changes gender

Female to male

And male to old maid

The nice guy doesn’t die

But’s strung along

Till quaint, irrelevant

Nothing worse

But the drummer

CHORUS

When Paul McCartney died

You felt bad not feeling bad

For feeling bad

You felt sad

For not feeling bad

For feeling sad

You felt bad

Just wanna say

I am not a robot

Reunited

Today’s Verse: 17 February 2018

Today the script is finalised
Now it’s time to edit
Today the cast is hired
Soon they may regret it

Between the script
And final cut
Lifetime improvisation

That’s the way it’s always done
That’s the way we do it
If you know a better way
Get down and let’s get to it

It’s Not Easy Reading Poetry

Each syllable a little brick
Her breathing is the mortar
The crowd is waiting for a trick
The next act to abort her

A concept’s limping into view
Unfulfilled and tired
The crowd extends its sympathy
But circumstance belies her

The shambles done, a cupola
Of feeling placed atop it
We recognise she’s vulnerable
Applaud and glad she’s stopped it

Happy new year!

Burning the effigies of 2017 in the snow and sand

Happy Birthday to me!

By the way, do you like Joseph Roth? I have been reading his stuff for almost twenty years (started with "Radetzky March"). He wrote a lot, and I like his voice. Just read "Tarabas, a Guest on Earth". Wonderful. Think you might like it.

Jimmy, I'm a little late in wishing you many happy returns of the day. Let it show with you!

Happy birthday Johny!

You’ve earned it!

There was cuckoo in the spring
I said, Sing, O cuckoo, sing
And a tit-willow in a tree
Sing Dear Bird, O Sing for me

Hey nonny nonny
Hey tit tit
Hey cuckoo cuck
Hey la

Yes, they said, enjoy our song
For spring is here, but won’t last long
And after summer, fall is here
And we birds will disappear

Hey nonny tit
Hey cuckoo cuck
O cuckoo tit
Hey la

So fuck your mistress while you may
Do your fucking while it’s day
For you too shall lose your vigor
And your youth will sadly wither

O tit o cock
O titty cock
Tit titty cock
Hey la

And sings the bird: O tit! O cock!
And ticks the clock:  O tick! O tock!
Waste not too much time in wooing
For when you’re dead there’s no more screwing

O tit o cock
O titty cock
Tit titty cock
Hey la


Possibly more fun, definitely not political

Today’s verse: 20 October 2017

No more champagne buffet brunches please
There’s a limit to what a guy can swallow
There’s only so much a man can take
Till his mind is numb and desire hollow

I remember the day when you went to sea
You knew I lied when I told you I’d follow
I knew you lied, you told me your heart ached
We both believed in a better tomorrow
Someday

Chorus:
Thank goodness for alcohol
Thank god for drugs
Only my brain hurts
My body just shrugs
Thank goodness for alcohol
Thank god for drugs


Work in progress. Please extrapolate and extend.

Everything We Know

Epistemology in the age of Trump.


All that you say, every lie you tell me’s
Just put on for show
Nothing is true, now I have lost my faith in
Everything we know

Almanacs and dictionaries
Had to be let go
They’re just as false as
Everything we know

In the libraries
There are no more books
Upon the shelf
Just “The Song of Myself.”

Stories we hear on television
And the radio
We know they’re all just as untrue as
Everything we know

Someday perhaps
Our faith will regrow
And we can believe in
Everything we know

We’ll retrieve
what we believe in
Everything we know

The good old songs

Stephen asked me if I could send him MP3s of the old Fast Fun recordings, so I created a Dropbox folder and added the most current address I have for each Spartan/Ragazzo. I put in the versions of 7 Songs and the Chicken Tape that Tracy digitized many years ago and the Brothers Twain album. If you'd like me to send a Dropbox invitation to a different address let me know.

The school year's beginning
It's the end of of the summer
Which means that it's the birthday of
Our favorite lady-drummer

Happy birthday, Tracette!

Oh Papa dear Papa, come back to the Bar
The church in the steeple strikes one...

Happy birthday! I love ya, Big Dummy.

La Belle au Bois Dormante

What I remember is that I was awakened by a man I’d never met kissing me.  He was a very handsome man, but I didn’t know him and that’s not how it’s supposed to work for nice girls from my background, believe me.  My breath must have been awful, since I’d been asleep for a hundred years. Yes, literally one hundred years.  It’s such a weird story. What they told me was that at my christening, someone, an old friend of the family, put a curse on me and said, “When the child first sees her own blood, she will die.” But she didn’t think it was a curse, she insisted it was a gift, and everyone was shocked and said, “Oh no, no, no, no no,” so she changed it, she said, “Then when first she sees her own blood she’ll fall into a deep deep sleep.  She’ll grow up as graceful and beautiful as a flower and then she’ll fall into a deep deep sleep. She won’t die, she’ll fall into a deep sleep when first she sees her own blood.”  But no one in my family ever told me about this, until afterwards I mean.  It’s crazy. I was a baby obviously but as I got older they all knew I had this curse on me and they never told me about it. They didn’t want to or they didn’t think they should or something. I know. I know. That’s what my family’s like.

So I wasn’t ready for it, but sure enough it happened just she like said, one hundred years. I had nice dreams though, I remember that, and then I woke up and it was a hundred years later, and this man I didn’t know was kissing me, and I wasn’t ready, there was a layer of dust lying everywhere, over everything, and I remember I thought to myself, oh if only I could just sleep a little longer.

Well I ended up marrying this handsome man who kissed me even though I didn’t know him, and we’ve had a lovely life together, full of balls and banquets and horse-drawn processions, and everybody loves the story of how we met.  He’s a wonderful provider, a good husband, a good father, and his head looks fantastic on the coins and stamps.  The older I get, though, the more I realize I really was given a gift, maybe it was a curse but I see why she would have thought of it as a gift appropriate for a newborn.  Sometimes now my husband will wake me up by kissing me, very gently, and it’s so sweet and beautiful but still, all the same, I think, sometimes I think if only I could have slept a little longer.  Just a little bit more.

Monologue

When I woke up they said to me, it was you, you were the one who did it, it was you who did all those things and the things they said, they said it was me but it wasn’t, it wasn’t me or it wasn’t, how shall I say, it was not me that’s talking right now, it’s not me who says I am I right now, does that make sense? It was another one.  I don’t think it does.  I see that, I see that it doesn’t make sense but what I mean is that the one who is myself, the one that I am right now, the one who I say I am, that one was asleep.  That one is me, it is I and I was asleep and so then you see, right? That I couldn’t have, I couldn’t have been there and I couldn’t have done it because I was here, I was asleep.  It was a dream and I was asleep and now I’m still asleep, I am still in this dream or, I don’t know any more, maybe it’s another one, maybe it’s a different dream but I think I’m asleep and having a dream, that’s all, it’s not me, it’s—I don’t know who but not me, not I, I am still asleep. It’s a dream, that’s all, but I don’t like this dream and they keep telling me what I did, but I didn’t, it didn’t happen, or it didn’t happen like that, like they say it did, or it did but it was someone else, anyway, no, I do not like this dream.  I keep trying to wake up and see what happened, or see what it is that’s happening, or that keeps happening and they keep telling me it was you, you did those things and then they tell me all the things they say I did, and I’m talking to them, I’m explaining it and they keep saying it was you, it was you, and no, no I do not like this dream.  It can’t be like that, like everyone says, like everyone keeps telling me, that can’t be it.  That can’t be right.  That’s what I keep saying.  That I was asleep, that it was a dream.  A bad dream though.  A very bad dream.  I remember…I don’t remember, I don’t think I can remember, but it was a very bad dream.  I can’t tell if it’s over, it seems like it’s over now and I’ve woken up, and then I hear how bad it is, how bad everything is and I think no, that’s not it.  That’s something different.  I remember and it’s bad, it’s a very bad dream, but it’s different from what they say, but then that’s not the dream, it’s not that dream, it’s not what they say, it’s not me, it’s not me that did it.  Not me, but…I don’t know. I don’t know who.  Another.  Someone else. You know?  I think there’s someone, there’s a guy wearing my clothes, everything, my shoes, my watch, my voice, but he says, what he says, first of all, it’s much more, how shall I say.  More confident-sounding, I guess, he’s much more confident-sounding than I am, like, he’s pretending to be me but he’s actually better at it than I am.  You know?  He’s better at being me than I am at being me, but that’s not right. I’m asleep, it’s night time and I’m asleep, but he’s out there and everyone seems to think he’s right, when they hear what he says it seems right, but that’s not what I would, that’s now how I’d, I don’t know. He was talking, he was talking and he was saying all sorts of things like I do and the weird thing is that I could hear him, I could hear what he was saying even though I wasn’t there, I don’t know how, maybe that was the dream and I could hear him, it was like me, it was, it was like things I would say but it wasn’t.  It wasn’t, it was much more, I don’t know, more clever maybe, clever and interesting and people seemed to be listening and they liked it but it wasn’t me. And do you know what he said.  It’s not, I know it’s not true, all those stories he told, they’re not true but I wouldn’t call them lies.  And even what I’m saying right now.  I mean who’s saying it.  Who’s speaking right now.  It’s me, it’s me of course because—you can tell right?  You can tell that this is me and it shouldn’t be, no it should be, it’s right but now I don’t know any more.  I can’t tell.  And no one would listen.  They all said, they all kept saying I did it, you shot at that boy they said, you covered those people’s faces and made them stand on that stool, all those things, you did that, and you know what it was, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me I was asleep and then he, you know the other one, he said, that one said, well then someone did it for you.  You wanted to, I didn’t want to but he said I wanted to, he said I wanted to and someone did it for me, he used my name and he did it for me and now you’re happy, you can admit it, you know this is what you wanted and I’m not…I don’t…I didn’t do it and I didn’t want it and now I can’t get rid of it. I can’t get away from it and everyone says it was me and I can’t wake up.  And he keeps saying, he keeps telling me that even if you didn’t hold that guy down, even if you weren’t the one who grabbed that woman and started choking her, which even if you did it was OK, you did what you thought was right, but even if that wasn’t you, still you know what you’ve done.  You know what you’ve done and it’s just as bad.  You’ll never straighten it out, you’ll never be OK but think it over, really it’s OK.  He says, you can never come back from this.  After what you’ve done, no you can never go back.  What you’ve lost is lost forever. But you know you would have lost it anyway so in that way, yes it’s OK. That’s not true, or I don’t know maybe that part is true. That I’ll lose, you know, lose everything I guess, I don’t want that to be true.  It doesn’t have to be.  Do you know what he told me? This really was a lie I think, I mean I know it’s not true, he said—I know, I know I shouldn’t fall for it, but he said don’t worry, things can be like they were before, everything will be like it used to be and that’s just what I wanted to hear, I knew it wasn’t true but that’s what I wanted to hear, he said things could be like they were before. But that it could be over and I could just forget, no I don’t believe that. I think if everyone would stop saying it, if someone would just say yes of course you were asleep and it was a dream but not if I say it. Not if it’s just something I’m saying to myself.  You know? But I think, I don’t know it seems like it can’t be just a dream. If it’s a dream, if it’s only a dream, then this is, I mean me saying it is a dream.  Then it’s not even a dream it’s a…no.  Then there’s no end.  Then it couldn’t stop because, do you see, because it would keep going on.  I mean if this is.  If me right now.  If me what I’m saying.  If this is a dream and I’m still dreaming then I don’t need to wake up, I need to go back to sleep.  If this is a dream I’ll go back to sleep.  No. 

Today's Verse: 22 April 2017

One week later
OK he's dead, what now?
I've been thinking about
My religion
I've got a lot of good tenets
Only the best
And a Church of one
First : No love songs
Second: Whatever works
Or maybe the reverse
Third: Let's take it from there
Did you ever touch bottom?
Feel it?
Gravity embraces you
Warm, indisputable
Nothing transcendental
Nothing impermanent
Special
Just there
Over the hill

Fragment before Easter 2017

Sitting on the curb side, staring at my thoughts
Waiting for a pickup, a ride back to the loft
The evening light is fading, the cars keep passing by
Mister's not around yet, I start to wonder why
What if he doesn't turn up, what if I'm on my own
I'd hate a cop to stop me, and give me a hard time

Don't quite know where this one leads, but thought you might want to play with it. I've been working hard and traveling a lot, so a little disappointed at not doing more on this blog. Have some ideas that are very slow in fruition.
I plan to "transit" through San Francisco on the way to Halifax (!) around 10 July. Would be nice to see you, if you're around. Let me know and I will plan accordingly.

The Day the Brownshirts Came To Town

The day the brownshirts marched by on parade
The townspeople all hip-hip-hoorayed
We all felt a special kind of pride
Whatever they’re fighting, we know they’re on our side
We cheered more and more as they marched round and round
The day the brownshirts cane to town

All us boys tried to sneak out of school
We wanted rifles that would make us that cool
The girls were all saying those brownshirts looked cute
But we knew it was more than the buttons and the suit
That brought them running out of the playground
The day the brownshirts came to town

Grandma said, “It’s just about time
Someone did something about the dirt and crime.”
And then just like always, this set off my dad:
He said, “Those guys are trouble, they’re just as bad!”
And momma smiled to calm him down
The day the brownshirts came to town

We were a little confused, no one seemed to know
Whether this was part of some reality show
Then Uncle Louie sort of disappeared
But we always knew he was a little bit weird
We figured sooner or later he’d be found
The day the brownshirts came to town

Martial Law in Chicago

The clusterjam has begun
There was a black man with a gun
Now there’s martial law in Chicago
We heard that there’d been looting
So our boys started shooting
Martial law is in Chicago

We can’t have this in our own back yard
So we called in the National Guard
We hit back and hit back hard
With martial law in Chicago

It was those illegal aliens
Syrians or Iranians
Martial law in Chicago
It must’ve been agents from ISIS
Who instigated this crisis
Now there’s martial law in Chicago

There was some protest from the mayor
But the opposition didn’t dare
Block a national security affair
Martial law in Chicago

We don’t need a warrant for searches
Don’t try hiding out in churches
Martial law in Chcago
Rules about search and seizure
Are only for appeasers
Now there’s martial law in Chicago

Now much as we respect the press
We had to cut off all access
Until we can declare success
Martial law in Chicago
Martial law in Chicago

Why We Fight (again)

An updated version of a song from a few years ago


Does anyone remember the protests that were for the 98%?
They seemed so self-indulgent—what did they represent?
Things got a little better, so I guess we all forgot
What things are like when soneone else is caling all the shots

And this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Though sometimes we must stop and rest
This is why we fight

The man who killed an unarmed kid was let off by a jury
Another man was killed by cops in Ferguson, Missouri
Another still was choked and killed for selling cigarettes
And yet somehow the struggle stopped. We managed to forget.

And this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Though it’s hard to carry on
This is why we fight

Some will fall in glory, and others fall in shame
Still others give up because both sides seem the same
Some fear humiliation, some direct attack
But sometimes when we’re broken, new roots grow through the crack

And this is why we fight, brothers
This is why we fight
Though sometimes we must stop and rest
This is why we fight

Our rulers are no longer to be the brightest but the brashest
A TV personality playing the American fascist
And millions of us hit the streets, perhaps this time we’ve learned
Will this be the call to fight? Has something really turned?

And this is why we fight, sisters
This is why we fight
Now’s not the time to stop and rest
This is why we fight

Work in progress - verse 22 January 2017

...
I'm glad you were there
To take me home
When I fell on my face drunk
...

Overheard; New York Palace, 11 January 2017

2017 is a heavy year
Last time I saw you
But you got through
All xxx front ends
Feels I don't want to say autopilot
He gets up there and goes
There were people on people's shoulders
He's lost his mind
An opportunity to
I bought for 5 dollars
I try to stay away from semis
There was a Bna product
For whatever reasons
But it was locked up for 7 years
Then he got divorced
Really nasty divorce
It's all about the Tshirt
It was hot too
Oh my god
Oh yeah right
But that would be
And I destroyed that nighty
That was brutal
Have you been to a big festival lately
All my friends are like I can't go on a
Saturday night
Take a picture
Ballet?
A ton of it then
It was unbelievable
Neil Young can get away with it
How much bands are making
I get that part
But the way they do it
There's no more weird in the Mid-West
I got him to switch
Yeah that poor bastard
He's a super nice guy
Under lots of strength

Today's Verse, 8 January 2017

Seeing daylight disappear

Inspires me with funny fears

I fear that you'll be coming home

I won't be there

You'll be alone 

Watching daylight fade away

Makes me wonder should I stay

Makes me wonder what I'd do

If you were me

And I were you

This is the best thing ever

sitting outside with a glass of red wine on a lovely evening in Singapore at the Swiss Club. Just got back here from Mumbai, after a couple of intense weeks with Indi, Mira (and her boyfriend Rob), and Jai. I went back to my journals of 10 years ago when I was in Mumbai last week and found some draftlyrics that I wrote for a tune Johny wrote. In an idle moment, after the plat principal, I thouGht of looking it up on Spartan Bar. Not there, but what a fucking treasure is there from 2007 and 2008. Ten years, and we seem to have lost Firestone and Tracette. But I am inspired to continue, starting now. Here are two song lyric ideas, not sure where to go with them: "I sucked Jesus' big cock, but he hasn't come, yet", and "what's the secret in men's eyes, what's the secret in women's eyes".
Happy new year!

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/

Waving Goodbye 12: RC Mountain Line

We have to go soon, I think we just have one more song, but I wanted to tell you how the story ends.  You know, the first story, where I was in bed, and I heard bells and saw a face in the moon. Well the next day I was awoken by a knock on the door, and someone must have spoken against me, because some men came to take me away, though I had no idea of what I had done.  I asked the men. “You have to tell me what I’m accused of,” I said.  “This is America.”  One of them laughed.  “Wave goodbye, Johny Blood,” he said. “You can play one more song and then the show is over.  Wave goodbye.” Goodnight everyone.


RC Mountain Line lyrics

Waving Goodbye 11: Waving Goodbye

I remember a bright sunny day in December, the year of the drought. You sat in the dark and said, “There’s too much sun and too much light.  I wish I could go away to where the snow covers everything and it’s quiet.”  I offered to build you an igloo right on the spot.   “I’ll make a snow fort out of sofa cushions. You can put on your Eskimo suit and we’ll pretend the dog’s a walrus.” You hardly bothered to look at me, hardly bothered to shake your head no and said, “I just want to go somewhere dark and cold and sleep through the winter. I just wish it would snow, that’s all.”  Then you hopped on your sled and went away, and I waved goodbye and watched you disappear, already going somewhere I can’t go, already looking happier, not looking back to see that I’m waving, which I am, and I said, “OK, I’ll wait here, blue turns to white then green and when the ice melts, come back and I’ll be here,” all the time waving, waving.  Goodbye.


Waving Goodbye lyrics

Waving Goodbye 10: Ash Wednesday

Five Times You Might Not Wave Goodbye

1) Your winning streak finally comes to an end. You bet everything you have all on one roll of the dice and lose it all.  You’re broke now. You beg the croupier to let you stake the watch your father gave you; it’s solid gold, worth a couple hundred easy. You fall to your knees and hug his legs, begging. “Stand up,” he says. “I can’t help you.” Finally the bouncers come and escort you out.  As the door slams behind them, you do not wave goodbye.

2) You see a man in the street, mercilessly flogging his horse.  You beg him to stop, but he ignores you until the horse collapses, a bloody carcass.  You’re sobbing, just stop it, please stop, but he spits and says, “What’s it to you?” and turns away. You do not wave goodbye.

3) You are the last soldier at Waterloo.  All your fellow soldiers have left.  The muddy fields are soaked with blood.  Your uniform is in tatters and you have no boots. Beginning the long journey back to your little farm in Avignon, you see a Russian soldier hiding in the white birch trees.  He looks even worse than you do, and more scared. You do not wave goodbye.

4) The lawgiver, who left more than a month ago and nobody knew when he’d be back, finally returns.  He saw the idol you’d built, which was just supposed to tide everyone over until he came back, but it completely freaks him out.  He totally loses it and breaks the tablets of the law, then he grinds the idol into a powder and makes you drink it, and then runs to the gates of the city, vowing that the guilty will all be slain.  You do not wave goodbye.

5) On Ash Wednesday, the priest smears ashes on your forehead and murmurs, “Now go in peace.”  You leave, but do not wave goodbye.


Ash Wednesday lyrics

Waving Goodbye 09: Martyrs Die For Love

Dogface offered to take me out for a drink.  He was one of my few old friends that was still around. He knew a place that stayed open all night, which is pretty rare in this town, as you probably know.  He used to go there during the curfew. So we’re having a couple drinks and after a while this guy comes in carrying a guitar and a paper bag.  Dogface gave me a nudge. “You know who that is?  It’s Saint Genesius. You know?  ‘I came to make you laugh, but now I bring you joy.’  That’s him.”  That’s why I love going out with Dogface—he knows all those guys.  So then sometime a little later a girl came in holding an empty bird cage.  Her eyes were blank and scary, and she said, “It’s over, it’s over, he’s gone, my little bird is gone, he’s gone away”, all like that.  And we’re just trying to have a drink, you know?  Genesius walked over and put his arms around her.  “Why are people so awful to one another?” she said.  “I know,” he said.  “So much trouble,” she said.  “So much trouble and for what?” “I know,” he said.  And Dogface turned to me and said, “You know, Johny, some suffering can be redemptive.  It can.”  He took a last sip and finished his drink.  “But sometimes suffering is just suffering.” And he lifted a finger to try to catch the bartender’s eye to order another one.



Martyrs Die For Love lyrics

Waving Goodbye 08: Time EnoughTo Cry

I’d heard the band might be able to get a gig at the Elysian Towers downtown.  Do you know it?  It’s kind of a beat-looking traveller’s hotel, there was a big fire but then they rebuilt it.  It was mid-September when I went down there, you know how it never gets too cool here in the autumn, and the sidewalk was covered with crumpled leaves.  No pretty autumn colors, just brown.  Out front there was a cop, or security, I’m not sure what he was supposed to be, but he was holding a flaming sword and smoking a doobie and it scared the crap out of me.  In the lobby, everyone is dressed in white, looking like they were ready to be put in the ground. I say to the guy at the desk, trying to be pleasant, “I hear you book bands?”  “Well,” he said, “the winter’s kind of a dead time.  The boss doesn’t really book bands, her daughter does most of the booking, and she goes away in the winter.  In fact she just left, today I guess, I didn’t even see her leave.  The boss is upstairs, but there’s really no point in going up. I don’t think she’ll see you.  She always says, what’s the point of music in the winter, most people just come here to crash then.  She always says she doesn’t miss her daughter, but you can see she does.  If you ask her, she just says, there’s always time enough to cry. Plenty of time for that.”   We never did get the gig.



Time Enough To Cry lyrics