startled to see the woman of it all
worried about the hearts of her family
come to her and cry
some sort of post modern reason
don't know what post modern means
i have my own insight
not so bad being lonely
if i can be alone
not so bad being lonely
if i can be alone
you'll get a chance to tell the truth, amen
tell me in that moment--tell me what you gonna do
the most important thing in your life
are you gonna have an answer my friend
when the drifter asks you what you know
can you look him in the eye
not so bad being lonely
if i can be alone
not so bad being lonely
if i can be alone
GEmriff
AmEmriff
DGEmriff
Am
EmGEmriff
5/30/10
5/29/10
Just In Time
listened to a woman the other day said her foot hurt
woke yesterday morning, Lord my back made me moan
my feelings surrendered when my girl rolled her eyes
thought i was faking 'cause i didn't want to be alone
why should i take the blame
don't you know i'm in pain
hope i never go over the line
got out of there just in time
went through the list of life and what went right and what went wrong
didn't know what to say when we talked about the sad times
just lifted a glass and toasted the years we've lived
the rotten things we do seem a wasteful crime
why should i take the blame
don't you know i'm in pain
hope i never go over the line
got out of there just in time
climbed upstairs through mainly english brands and flags
bearded guy singing oasis songs in the corner of the bar
announced his breaks and played nothing but covers
had to summon a driver to take me home, didn't live far
why should i take the blame
don't you know i'm in pain
hope i never go over the line
got out of there just in time
gcdc
gcdc
gcdc
gcdg
cdg
cdg
cdg
cgdg
5/23/10
Texico (Draft): Number 9
When the maniac from Iran lifted hands with the Turks and the Brazilians we all knew the rules of the world had evolved. This was no longer the America of founding purity, diversity of thought, or even right and wrong. Boundries were only for the moral. So it seemed back then. In the raging teens.
"Honey", L. Dean remembered calling out, "Come on. Chillleees!" he continued with loud whistling and banging. It was early on a June Saturday morning.
"Daddy?" Ava finally answered, tired from the previous night's soccer game. It was tournament weekend for the 11/12 year old girls and games were stacked, two to a day.
"Everybody is drinkin' a bunch a'water. Don't want t' get dehydrated." L.Dean roared, always giving advice to his family. Ava Rose, the young and fierce; Shelby Lynn, the powerful and conflicted; and Annabelle, the wise and beautiful preacher woman. Several friends had been battling dehydration, common in the summer Texas heat, and L. Dean was insistent on his water demands. "I already drank two glasses. One before my morning walk and one after. Drink girls. Drink!" he continued to yell to his sleepy family. Annabelle was many things, but counting on her for morning promptness was perilous. L. Dean woke in the early dark, an hour before the sun, stretching his body for long periods of time. The scent of mowed grass and sounds of the early darkness creating melodies never heard. The sun's light woke Annabelle, her huge green eyes heavy until devotions and prayers. However, her preoccupation with her daughters didn't need alert eyes. They thought the same thoughts, overcame the same frustrations, and swayed to the same rhythms, all of L. Dean's girls acted as one maiden of God's creation. Somehow, the inevitable conflict actually balances the fragile relationship between mother and daughters, releasing steam when needed. The daughters (sisters, really) enjoyed a devout, and at times ferocious, sibling alliance. Three was stronger than one. The feminine trinity of the Fitzgerald’s.
"Ava, your jersey is hanging on the hook in your bathroom," Annabelle weakly shouted from her bedroom, "Get some water ready daddy. Shelby Lynn, no one is listening to your crying and whining." The oldest had indeed pleaded for more quiet and was taking sides against everyone in the family. Tears followed. Eventually, the inevitability of the established schedule and some prideless coaxing from Ava and L. Dean would clear the air. Annabelle said nothing to the oldest daughter and was utterly unaffected by the latest eruption. When the entire family finally climbed into the car, Annabelle continued to ensure proper direction, "Sunscreen? Chairs? Towel? Ava, did you eat anything? Shelby Lynn, you?"
"Yes mamma, I had some grapes and half a muffin," Ava answered, then continuing with a growl, "I'm gonna track down number 9 all day. She goes left, I cut her off, she goes right, I get the ball, she elbows, I elbow back. I'm ready to goooowaa." Her teeth clenched and both fists balled tightly. Her blood boiled and her face turned red.
"Hope you stretched your shoulders," L. Dean said, "Soccer is a game for all four limbs. You got to use your entire body, remember we talked about that? Remember?", he asked while turning around and looking at Ava. "Use your whole body," he continued, "You never know how the refs are gonna call it 'til the game starts. It not a bad thang to be the first to get a warnin'" Annabelle, glaring at L. Dean, quickly laughed and reminded her youngest to have fun and play hard.
"Number 9 is miiiine," yelled Ava Rose.
"Stay on her honey," her mother said.
Number 9 was a spectacular player. Fast, agile, smart, and unselfish. Despite a supreme effort, Ava was humbled that day. Number 9 was better. It was obvious. L. Dean, Annabelle, and Shelby Lynn took the loss hard. They were praying and willing a win. Not until dusk did they return to normal moods. Ava made a note. Filed it away. Twenty years later as she captained the 2030 Texican Women's World Cup Championship team, she set up the winning goal against the Brazilians. On that famous play, in the final minute, she shook off an elbow to the jaw while driving past two defenders and softly lifted a pass over another defender to a streaking Texican wing player. The wing drove the ball past the leaping goalie and ignited the noise of legitimacy in the admiring crowd. The goal scoring player was number 9, dark haired and tireless Elishia Mendoza, the same player who commanded Ava's esteem so many years earlier.
"Let's just go home," Annabelle moaned after the game, "Ava, you played your heart out sweetie. Now, I want an hour of chores when we get home. Thirty minutes free time, then an hour." The girls gave her a dirty look.
"Number 9 was the best player I've ever seen," said Shelby as they drove slowly home. "For sure she's the best 12 year old I've ever seen." She looked at Ava with pity, then told her she played really good. "You got a goal girl!", she said while patting her head. She loved Ava Rose.
"Yep," whispered L. Dean, "Number 9." He was taking the long way.
"Can I have a friend over today?" asked Ava.
The wind that day was unsettling and relentless. Through that summer (crude summer to the disgusted cajuns), oil stained the gulf beaches while the political men and women continued to keep the corrupted system alive. Grease was their main concern, not oil. L. Dean wondered about the gathering wickedness in the world and the delusional American rebuke. He made a note and filed it away. He vowed candid dissent, demanding competence and late-17 hundred's conviction of ideas.
"No honey, we're going to go home and spend the day together", answered Annabelle. "Do you know how lucky we are?" Both girls looked out the window and started humming the same song.
"Honey", L. Dean remembered calling out, "Come on. Chillleees!" he continued with loud whistling and banging. It was early on a June Saturday morning.
"Daddy?" Ava finally answered, tired from the previous night's soccer game. It was tournament weekend for the 11/12 year old girls and games were stacked, two to a day.
"Everybody is drinkin' a bunch a'water. Don't want t' get dehydrated." L.Dean roared, always giving advice to his family. Ava Rose, the young and fierce; Shelby Lynn, the powerful and conflicted; and Annabelle, the wise and beautiful preacher woman. Several friends had been battling dehydration, common in the summer Texas heat, and L. Dean was insistent on his water demands. "I already drank two glasses. One before my morning walk and one after. Drink girls. Drink!" he continued to yell to his sleepy family. Annabelle was many things, but counting on her for morning promptness was perilous. L. Dean woke in the early dark, an hour before the sun, stretching his body for long periods of time. The scent of mowed grass and sounds of the early darkness creating melodies never heard. The sun's light woke Annabelle, her huge green eyes heavy until devotions and prayers. However, her preoccupation with her daughters didn't need alert eyes. They thought the same thoughts, overcame the same frustrations, and swayed to the same rhythms, all of L. Dean's girls acted as one maiden of God's creation. Somehow, the inevitable conflict actually balances the fragile relationship between mother and daughters, releasing steam when needed. The daughters (sisters, really) enjoyed a devout, and at times ferocious, sibling alliance. Three was stronger than one. The feminine trinity of the Fitzgerald’s.
"Ava, your jersey is hanging on the hook in your bathroom," Annabelle weakly shouted from her bedroom, "Get some water ready daddy. Shelby Lynn, no one is listening to your crying and whining." The oldest had indeed pleaded for more quiet and was taking sides against everyone in the family. Tears followed. Eventually, the inevitability of the established schedule and some prideless coaxing from Ava and L. Dean would clear the air. Annabelle said nothing to the oldest daughter and was utterly unaffected by the latest eruption. When the entire family finally climbed into the car, Annabelle continued to ensure proper direction, "Sunscreen? Chairs? Towel? Ava, did you eat anything? Shelby Lynn, you?"
"Yes mamma, I had some grapes and half a muffin," Ava answered, then continuing with a growl, "I'm gonna track down number 9 all day. She goes left, I cut her off, she goes right, I get the ball, she elbows, I elbow back. I'm ready to goooowaa." Her teeth clenched and both fists balled tightly. Her blood boiled and her face turned red.
"Hope you stretched your shoulders," L. Dean said, "Soccer is a game for all four limbs. You got to use your entire body, remember we talked about that? Remember?", he asked while turning around and looking at Ava. "Use your whole body," he continued, "You never know how the refs are gonna call it 'til the game starts. It not a bad thang to be the first to get a warnin'" Annabelle, glaring at L. Dean, quickly laughed and reminded her youngest to have fun and play hard.
"Number 9 is miiiine," yelled Ava Rose.
"Stay on her honey," her mother said.
Number 9 was a spectacular player. Fast, agile, smart, and unselfish. Despite a supreme effort, Ava was humbled that day. Number 9 was better. It was obvious. L. Dean, Annabelle, and Shelby Lynn took the loss hard. They were praying and willing a win. Not until dusk did they return to normal moods. Ava made a note. Filed it away. Twenty years later as she captained the 2030 Texican Women's World Cup Championship team, she set up the winning goal against the Brazilians. On that famous play, in the final minute, she shook off an elbow to the jaw while driving past two defenders and softly lifted a pass over another defender to a streaking Texican wing player. The wing drove the ball past the leaping goalie and ignited the noise of legitimacy in the admiring crowd. The goal scoring player was number 9, dark haired and tireless Elishia Mendoza, the same player who commanded Ava's esteem so many years earlier.
"Let's just go home," Annabelle moaned after the game, "Ava, you played your heart out sweetie. Now, I want an hour of chores when we get home. Thirty minutes free time, then an hour." The girls gave her a dirty look.
"Number 9 was the best player I've ever seen," said Shelby as they drove slowly home. "For sure she's the best 12 year old I've ever seen." She looked at Ava with pity, then told her she played really good. "You got a goal girl!", she said while patting her head. She loved Ava Rose.
"Yep," whispered L. Dean, "Number 9." He was taking the long way.
"Can I have a friend over today?" asked Ava.
The wind that day was unsettling and relentless. Through that summer (crude summer to the disgusted cajuns), oil stained the gulf beaches while the political men and women continued to keep the corrupted system alive. Grease was their main concern, not oil. L. Dean wondered about the gathering wickedness in the world and the delusional American rebuke. He made a note and filed it away. He vowed candid dissent, demanding competence and late-17 hundred's conviction of ideas.
"No honey, we're going to go home and spend the day together", answered Annabelle. "Do you know how lucky we are?" Both girls looked out the window and started humming the same song.
Come All You Senoritas
come all you senoritas, come on up to the stage
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
one day i saw Jesus, he was looking straight at me
i turned my head in spite of him, but he would not let me be
gringo look at your treasures, cowboy drink your wine
you can count your blessings out on highway 99
come all you senoritas, come on up to the stage
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
you lie down in a fit of anger, gonna take a walk outside
tears falling from your oceans, find peace looking at the sky
you told me i don't give enough, i don't make time for you
i've been drifting past your stories and the places they take me to
look in my eyes and tell me, when you need me to comfort you
i'm not always thinking about what you're going through
come all you senoritas, come on up to the stage
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
come all you senoritas, come on up to the stage
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
fcfg
fcgc
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
one day i saw Jesus, he was looking straight at me
i turned my head in spite of him, but he would not let me be
gringo look at your treasures, cowboy drink your wine
you can count your blessings out on highway 99
come all you senoritas, come on up to the stage
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
you lie down in a fit of anger, gonna take a walk outside
tears falling from your oceans, find peace looking at the sky
you told me i don't give enough, i don't make time for you
i've been drifting past your stories and the places they take me to
look in my eyes and tell me, when you need me to comfort you
i'm not always thinking about what you're going through
come all you senoritas, come on up to the stage
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
come all you senoritas, come on up to the stage
come all you senoritas, don't even know your name
fcfg
fcgc
5/22/10
Mercury To Rise
eab7e
had to think where i was when i got up
drinking strawberry kiwi in a paper cup
aea
back up the hill i flipped and flopped
eab7e
the kids kept going everytime we stopped
waited for an hour for mercury to rise
saw the wings of saturn in the southern sky
craters of the moon were clear as day
felt small that evening in the lone star state
a taunting copperhead coiled and hissed
had to take it out fast, he couldn't miss
lifted a stump high and then he took aim
killed that snake with the deadly fangs
can't see any color cause we're in the dark
but spiders are seen like diamond hearts
your skins gets covered in sweat and webs
songs are whispered and the Word is read
sacked in the back of the speeding car
reminded of just how lucky we are
passed town after town going north from la grange
an easy feeling got me feeling strange
a grain of sandy sand, a speck of dusty dust
a tired lonley man in a town he once cussed
the days we spend apart disappear slow
the days we spend together have a graceful glow
had to think where i was when i got up
drinking strawberry kiwi in a paper cup
aea
back up the hill i flipped and flopped
eab7e
the kids kept going everytime we stopped
waited for an hour for mercury to rise
saw the wings of saturn in the southern sky
craters of the moon were clear as day
felt small that evening in the lone star state
a taunting copperhead coiled and hissed
had to take it out fast, he couldn't miss
lifted a stump high and then he took aim
killed that snake with the deadly fangs
can't see any color cause we're in the dark
but spiders are seen like diamond hearts
your skins gets covered in sweat and webs
songs are whispered and the Word is read
sacked in the back of the speeding car
reminded of just how lucky we are
passed town after town going north from la grange
an easy feeling got me feeling strange
a grain of sandy sand, a speck of dusty dust
a tired lonley man in a town he once cussed
the days we spend apart disappear slow
the days we spend together have a graceful glow
Always Makes Me Want To Sing
em
He always hears me out, i fought through all my doubts
g em
i can tell Him anything
i can tell Him anything
always makes me want to sing
always makes me want to sing
d7
tell Him what i'm doing in the morning
d7 g
tell Him what i did all night
gonna give you so much worry, keep you in a hurry
the devil knows he can
the devil knows he can
the devil knows he can
the devil knows he can
crying about the injustice
crying about the meaning of it all
why bother with the climbing, depends on the timing
let it come to you
let it come to you
let it come to you
let it come to you
you'll know cause of the gnawing
dreams will go away to find some rest
you're just being tested, like He always said
you can do anything
you can do anything
always makes me want to sing
always makes me want to sing
living this single moment
while i keep on getting closer to the truth
He always hears me out, i fought through all my doubts
g em
i can tell Him anything
i can tell Him anything
always makes me want to sing
always makes me want to sing
d7
tell Him what i'm doing in the morning
d7 g
tell Him what i did all night
gonna give you so much worry, keep you in a hurry
the devil knows he can
the devil knows he can
the devil knows he can
the devil knows he can
crying about the injustice
crying about the meaning of it all
why bother with the climbing, depends on the timing
let it come to you
let it come to you
let it come to you
let it come to you
you'll know cause of the gnawing
dreams will go away to find some rest
you're just being tested, like He always said
you can do anything
you can do anything
always makes me want to sing
always makes me want to sing
living this single moment
while i keep on getting closer to the truth
5/16/10
Ambassador In Chains
lily, oh lily, what a blessing you are
growing tall, growing strong, sure to go far
check Ephesians six, start with verse ten
read through twenty, it'll tell you plenty
shields and armor and the buckle of truth
salvation's helmet will surely protect you
never, never forget to carry your sword
the word will keep you close to the Lord
pray for your ambassador in chains
pray for your mama and all the saints
God has given you the gift of poise
when you sing, you sing a heavenly noise
i'll always pray that you'll be blessed
i already know you've found eternal rest
lily, oh lily, i loved the austin trip
didn't act all goofy and never gave me no lip
growing tall, growing strong, sure to go far
check Ephesians six, start with verse ten
read through twenty, it'll tell you plenty
shields and armor and the buckle of truth
salvation's helmet will surely protect you
never, never forget to carry your sword
the word will keep you close to the Lord
pray for your ambassador in chains
pray for your mama and all the saints
God has given you the gift of poise
when you sing, you sing a heavenly noise
i'll always pray that you'll be blessed
i already know you've found eternal rest
lily, oh lily, i loved the austin trip
didn't act all goofy and never gave me no lip
Sugarcane
lost blood almost every week
left our general dead in the creek
took an arrow in the eye
saw Jesus before he died
he was gone, gone, gone
yeah, he was gone, gone, gone
working sails on an irish boat
regardless he was always broke
jumped off in montreal
heard the great plains call
he was gone, gone, gone
yeah, he was gone, he was gone
indians tracked his tracks
the dirt was soft and black
paid 'em off with sugarcane
went to texas on a cattle train
he was gone, gone, gone
yeah, he was gone, gone, gone
planted cotten, wheat, and corn
lived his life near where he was born
always broke a smile
knew he only had a while
he was gone, gone, gone
he was gone, he was gone
a7
d7
a7
d7
g d7 a7
g d7 a7
left our general dead in the creek
took an arrow in the eye
saw Jesus before he died
he was gone, gone, gone
yeah, he was gone, gone, gone
working sails on an irish boat
regardless he was always broke
jumped off in montreal
heard the great plains call
he was gone, gone, gone
yeah, he was gone, he was gone
indians tracked his tracks
the dirt was soft and black
paid 'em off with sugarcane
went to texas on a cattle train
he was gone, gone, gone
yeah, he was gone, gone, gone
planted cotten, wheat, and corn
lived his life near where he was born
always broke a smile
knew he only had a while
he was gone, gone, gone
he was gone, he was gone
a7
d7
a7
d7
g d7 a7
g d7 a7
5/15/10
Texico (Draft): The Race for Harmony
Writing Texico will require, almost demand in some cases, focused attention to several social, political, and economic issues. Some important, but lesser, issues can be implied. However, there are many that must be confronted and the characters must be tied directly to the ideas, the evolutions, and the outcomes of many critical issues. Among these are governing laws and guiding documents, the most prominent being the Texico Papers. L. Dean and Elias T. Woods were the primary writers of the document that changed the future of America, Texas, and Mexico and, in part, led to the formation of Texico. Other issues include race or, better described, the consolidation of race, crime (especially in the southern part of Texico, the former Mexico), energy policy, sports, higher education, military, prison, and religion.
America, perhaps doomed from the start, is paralyzed by race. Through race equality everything is filtered, without exception. This filter includes laws, politics, guilt, business marketing, shame, and media. Asian-American, African-American, Mexican-American, Female-Americans, and Muslim-American. Two of these American sets given a continent, one a country, one a gender, and one a faith. If one was a Dane originally, he would be referred to as an American from Denmark. Or if a Canadian man, he might still be called a Canadian, regardless. If that Canadian were female or black, Canadian would not work and the gender or race would be disclosed. The Australian gets the rugged Aussie label; Indians (or still Native-American to some) boldly, and controversially, demanded the removal of the hyphenated label which led to the awkward Indian Native label if you were actually from India. In fact, by 2040 these groups had largely geographically segregated themselves into definable regions in America. This obsession with race had impacted America in many ways. Coalitions were forged between race groups depending on mutually shared benefits. Especially economic and political. Through the years, America had suffered several bloody race wars. The 2026 Asian-American/Mexican-American war ended after a month of bloody battles, eco-poisoning, and other brutal tactics. Ten thousand were left dead and the Asian-Americans finally declared victory after the Mexican-Americans retreated from San Francisco and contentedly remained settled in Southern California and the southwest desert regions of America. The nuclear agreement the Asian-Americans struck with China and promised radioactive destruction of San Diego ended the terrible war. Of course, other countries exploited and encouraged the racial strife in America. Largely, America in 2040 resembled the USSR in 1990. A historically great superpower ready to crack in a world full of superpowers. Bitterness, entitlement, and self-occupation destroying the once-great unity. Compared with the previous century, America was just holding on. Texico was the opposite. Harmony among races, religions, genders, and classes seemed prevalent. The Texico Papers and the political will (and mandate) to protect the truth kept cultural rivalries and resentments to a minimum. Pure capitalism and a servant's mentality were primary goals shared by all Texicans. Culturally, Texico thrived due to the thick skin of the people, appreciation of diversity, and lessons learned from the American mistakes. One unifying and descriptive label was used --Texican.
L. Dean is white ( if there is such a thing). European-Nordic-Saxon-Danish-Irish-Canadian-Irish (black) all in his blood. Probably his ancestors were part of the Great Heathen Army that battled the Franks a millenia ago. All the way back to Adam and the sweet mother of all, Eve. The raceless family. Annabelle, an adopted daughter of northern Europe. J.T. Barnes is from the Ozarks originally, Elias T. Woods came from Texans that fought, and died, at the Alamo, Travis B. Whitney is black (if there is such a thing), Maggie Graham is a burning red head obviously descended from Ireland, Fran Del Rosario Vinales has stubborn Latin blood, and Mitch Parrish was born an east-coast American blue-blood. Differences between the characters will be openly acknowledged and openly ignored. Inspired by truth, all Texicans are respected and protected as humans and prosper (or not) due to actions and results.
America, perhaps doomed from the start, is paralyzed by race. Through race equality everything is filtered, without exception. This filter includes laws, politics, guilt, business marketing, shame, and media. Asian-American, African-American, Mexican-American, Female-Americans, and Muslim-American. Two of these American sets given a continent, one a country, one a gender, and one a faith. If one was a Dane originally, he would be referred to as an American from Denmark. Or if a Canadian man, he might still be called a Canadian, regardless. If that Canadian were female or black, Canadian would not work and the gender or race would be disclosed. The Australian gets the rugged Aussie label; Indians (or still Native-American to some) boldly, and controversially, demanded the removal of the hyphenated label which led to the awkward Indian Native label if you were actually from India. In fact, by 2040 these groups had largely geographically segregated themselves into definable regions in America. This obsession with race had impacted America in many ways. Coalitions were forged between race groups depending on mutually shared benefits. Especially economic and political. Through the years, America had suffered several bloody race wars. The 2026 Asian-American/Mexican-American war ended after a month of bloody battles, eco-poisoning, and other brutal tactics. Ten thousand were left dead and the Asian-Americans finally declared victory after the Mexican-Americans retreated from San Francisco and contentedly remained settled in Southern California and the southwest desert regions of America. The nuclear agreement the Asian-Americans struck with China and promised radioactive destruction of San Diego ended the terrible war. Of course, other countries exploited and encouraged the racial strife in America. Largely, America in 2040 resembled the USSR in 1990. A historically great superpower ready to crack in a world full of superpowers. Bitterness, entitlement, and self-occupation destroying the once-great unity. Compared with the previous century, America was just holding on. Texico was the opposite. Harmony among races, religions, genders, and classes seemed prevalent. The Texico Papers and the political will (and mandate) to protect the truth kept cultural rivalries and resentments to a minimum. Pure capitalism and a servant's mentality were primary goals shared by all Texicans. Culturally, Texico thrived due to the thick skin of the people, appreciation of diversity, and lessons learned from the American mistakes. One unifying and descriptive label was used --Texican.
L. Dean is white ( if there is such a thing). European-Nordic-Saxon-Danish-Irish-Canadian-Irish (black) all in his blood. Probably his ancestors were part of the Great Heathen Army that battled the Franks a millenia ago. All the way back to Adam and the sweet mother of all, Eve. The raceless family. Annabelle, an adopted daughter of northern Europe. J.T. Barnes is from the Ozarks originally, Elias T. Woods came from Texans that fought, and died, at the Alamo, Travis B. Whitney is black (if there is such a thing), Maggie Graham is a burning red head obviously descended from Ireland, Fran Del Rosario Vinales has stubborn Latin blood, and Mitch Parrish was born an east-coast American blue-blood. Differences between the characters will be openly acknowledged and openly ignored. Inspired by truth, all Texicans are respected and protected as humans and prosper (or not) due to actions and results.
5/9/10
Drink You Dry
heard a little story 'bout a king you know
his mama never let him down you know
always told him just what she thought
and he never forgot everything he was taught
told him he better love the girls
don't let 'em down, you gotta talk to girls
tell 'em all the things that make them unique
take 'em hunting at the finest boutiques
sons and daughters can drink you dry
you turn beat red but act dignified
what you really want is some time to yourself
you forgive the words for your own mental health
all and all it's not a bad deal
the anger fades and resentments heal
you hope they keep a-coming back
when your older and your mind is jacked
keep a-coming back
keep a-coming back
keep a-coming back
keep a-coming back
g
c
g
dcg
dg
his mama never let him down you know
always told him just what she thought
and he never forgot everything he was taught
told him he better love the girls
don't let 'em down, you gotta talk to girls
tell 'em all the things that make them unique
take 'em hunting at the finest boutiques
sons and daughters can drink you dry
you turn beat red but act dignified
what you really want is some time to yourself
you forgive the words for your own mental health
all and all it's not a bad deal
the anger fades and resentments heal
you hope they keep a-coming back
when your older and your mind is jacked
keep a-coming back
keep a-coming back
keep a-coming back
keep a-coming back
g
c
g
dcg
dg
5/8/10
Senses Diminished
what if there were no sounds
what would become of words
would toes still tap
ears would seem pointless
what if there were no scenes
would color have a home
beauty would be more than skin deep
my eye doctor would be doing something else
how about living with no taste
food pills? who needs a chef
water would continue to be important
breath would be better, unless...
smells could not be smelled
would anything be a stinking so and so
flowers could be seen at least
perfumes makes me sneeze anyway
what if feeling were lost
physical touch, not emotional
surely we would still have a soul
good art would be very tricky
what would become of words
would toes still tap
ears would seem pointless
what if there were no scenes
would color have a home
beauty would be more than skin deep
my eye doctor would be doing something else
how about living with no taste
food pills? who needs a chef
water would continue to be important
breath would be better, unless...
smells could not be smelled
would anything be a stinking so and so
flowers could be seen at least
perfumes makes me sneeze anyway
what if feeling were lost
physical touch, not emotional
surely we would still have a soul
good art would be very tricky
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