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