jpaulgorman

  GCDGx4 Come over here, but I know that you won't. Could beg you to love me, but I know that you don't. When I say it don't matter to me. It ain't you, just trying to find a little peace. CGx3 DCG We can drive this road, go on and on. Til we die like we said when we were young. Through the night, no need to get a room. Keep driving, we'll be home real soon. Late that morning, when August got hot. With little warning, we thickened the plot.   Change of plans, I know what I need. It ain't you, just trying to find a little peace. 

Pay the tuition, inject the juice, zip it shut, mask over those noses please.  Quiet in the back!  Single file now, six feet apart, don't go down that way, it's closed over there, cell block 9, we're marching to cell block 9.  Might get hurt down that way, we all understand.  Don't want a warning, a citation, or a reprimand, got to get a degree, must get a degree. The outside world, the free, live in a different way.  Ideas of their own, reasoning.  Eyes aren't glazed and sure of everything, the outsiders are skeptical, they are curious.  They ask, they talk, they go and do.  They laugh and giggle and crack up. Let the risk be rewarded, step out into the open.  Gasp some air way down deep in the lungs, muffle out the exhaust.  Confinement is like hazardous waste, it glows in the dark, it's radioactive material.  Hear the motor sounds, hear them hum.  Hear them move.

  Political criminals of all kinds, the ways of this back alley world.  The street class, the road grease, the pavement.  Hustling like laughing hyenas, pointy shoes and briefs.  Eyes of lies. Everybody gonna be got.  Gonna get the getcha getcha.  That ultimate end to our life and times, the final beat of a worn out heart, the last breath of sweet oxygen.  A full memory card. The times is the thing, rips and roars.  The who's and them's.  Exaggerated stories of uncommon occurrences, flashes of brilliance and unusual insight, known names.  Names of fame.  Consequential times of your life.

And that's O.K., to sit in the seat of privilege.  Regardless of our ignorance.  Good to know.  Agent for change, a fighter.  In the blood, in the DNA somewhere, a natural, ingrained. Being aware, plotting, rapping.  This is brilliant stuff.  Spectrums of inclusions, in depth studies of impacts, richer conversations.  Those that take offense, those with causes.  Rail. Compliments are compliments, know the backhand is not there.  We are only opening doors for the ladies.  Gentlemen are still cool. The absurd is easy to spot, it's usually circular.  Then, and only then, the absurd mutates.

Stick it with your control measures, they don't work around here.  Signs have no influence.  Gibberish.  Eventual litter, blights.  Signs say nothing. Oblivious to your guidelines and policies, they are not mine.  Your creeds are bland, your proclamations are weak, your mandates are ignored.  Your bans are irrelevant, your muzzles are broke.  Intentional disobiedience, planned, perfected, taught.  We shall speak. Rock the mock, loudly.  Pile on, with truth and class, and some perfect vulgarity to make it fucking stick.  Little clowns they are, little Mao clowns.  Shame throwers who won't show their faces.  Laugh them off, shun them, escape the dull dim.

Toss the withering flowers, replace them with the fresh cut.  Keeping the inventory high.  Colors to burn, the dull must check out.  Bring it down some place else, somewhere else.  Walk the muck. Tentative and shaky. Undetermined, unmotivated, uninspired.  Even MoJo took off, sped on down the road, never looked back.  Off to some hyped up hullabaloo or some hoity toity whispering tea.  To be seen, heard, and known. Large amounts of quality over quantity.  Frivolous pursuits, pipe dreams, and delusions.  Enjoy them too.  The trail goes on forever, it loops and loops, it rewinds, but it changes with the seasons.  Time for this, time for that.

  Slow living. Feel the body, the mind's a mess. Soul giving. Learn karate, cut the whacko stress. Sun rising. See as many as you possibly can. Describing. Sad endings, rarely goes as planned. And each day that passes away. Is another brilliant day. Another day to create. There's no time for hate. Screen gazers. Too much gazing and it burns your brain. More lazing. Quit wasting your American dreams. GD/CG-x2//AmEm/AmCDD7-x2

Tyranny at home, cowardice away.  This tragedy of incompetence, this built-in excuse, this justified farce.  Pay no mind, they are spinning their tops, their brains are scrambling, they're licking ice cream.  Unfazed, falling in line, frenzied eating, like rats.  The big guy tyrant was there all along, getting greased, getting his 10%.   A masked diversion, the mandate mandates.  The blinker class.  Don't have to live like the refugees, call in the damn torpedoes.  Your response is empty, your response is weak.  Call the scene as it's seen.  The truth was it unfolded quicker than anticipated, their heels were busy.  Demonize the lovers of liberty, scape the goats, erase the evidence.  The mushees will slurp anything down, they'll believe anything the mushers mush up.  They echo, they go along, like dogs hoofing for treats.  Wag, drool, sleep in your cage.

These made up realities.  Look around, see the truth, the games, the fabrications, the suppressions, the data.  Figment of evil, a manifestation of greed.  Inevitable perhaps, but still sad, still too damn bad.  Stay away, let me be. The oddsters are calculating.  Hunches, guts, math, experience, human nature, viral nature.  Speak to the few, the masses are illiterate.  The masses are caught up in the net.  They are like tuna, the real kind. Anger is no good way, let justice and karma work it out.  The angry will stay mad, in all of mad's forms.  Hysterical laughter can cure a soul.  And music, of course.  Attend, help, and pray.

  CDX2 CG CDDG Behind the shades thoughts a'flutter. Singing it crisp without a stutter. Finishing off each and every line. Picking melodies and busting ryhmes. Stomp the floor with a tambourine. The Harp honks, the lyrics bleed. Keep it quiet between the tunes. Jam all night, howl to the moon. DCG CG X2 Those audience eyes. Glassy and stoned. Those audience cries. The wails, the screams, the moans. What's the worse that could go wrong. A broken string, or a butchered song. Originals covered up with the covers. Bout bandits, and jokers, and heartbroken lovers.

EAB7Ex2 Lays down the beat. Keeps money time. She's a pocket player. She'll blow your mind. Hits the groove. Bing bangs the snare. She's a pocket player. She's got funky hair. B7Ex4 Drummer girl plays it strong. Drummer girl plays it long. Drummer girl plays behind the band. Drummer girl gongs her gong. Brings the pop. The herky, the jerky. She's a pocket player. With a touch of quirky. Golden cymbals. And a sweet high hat. She's a pocket player. She go rat-a-tat-tat.

  GC/FC/FC/GFC Molecule for molecule. Inoculations and ridicule. What about infection rates, Deaths and cases in lockdown states. Molecule for molecule. Take my take, I've been to school. Bodies and minds and souls in tune. Stay moving, stay immune. Molecule for molecule. Panicking mobs and useful fools. Seasonal virus, like seasonal flu. What's bullshit, and what's true. Molecule for molecule. Manipulate and lose your cool. Create some shame to pass around. Divide the folks and shut them down.

  She got good shoes. Oh yes, she do. She got pairs in blue. Got pairs that're new. I'm just your average dude. Don't really have a clue. But I know, yes I know. She got good shoes. Those shoes she's got. Are really hot. Tied tight in double knots. They help her when she trots. Boot kicking like robots. High heeling like big shots. But I know, yes I know. Sweet shoes she's got. EAx3 DAE

  Cut that 45. Look em in the eyes. Cut that 45. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. Look at him sneer. Bring the gals to tears. Look at him sneer. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. Crying all the time. You ain't nothing but a hound dog. Crying all the time. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. Suspicious minds. Figure we'll be fine. Suspicious minds. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. GGCG CCDG CCGC DDCGx2

  Wait at least two weeks after the final dose.  To be clear about your status.  To belong.  To enjoy thy presence.  To bask. The travel life, like in the magazines.  An operator, intentionally oblivious to any restraint, acting welcomed anywhere.  In front of the front row, asking intentionally obvious questions, eyeballing.  All the while, unknowingly agitating.  Scorned, in a way. Reveal nothing of yourself, there is little point in revealing.  This is on principal.  Freedom of shoulder, freedom of butt cheek.  The Vetenarians know, some animals are just animals, their minds are closed.  They may be your friends, but you are not theirs.

Ambivalence and the apathy pile.  Growing bigger by the day, those things not worthy of care.  The care worthy really shine brighter and clearer now.  Reduces the sweats, minimizes the worry, promotes chill.  Some despise the cold. To them, blankets!  Cover it up, layer it up, mask it up, button it up, zip it up, and shut it up.  Keep it tight, live off the warmth of others, try to remain calm.  Drink warm drinks.  Hats, scarfs, keep the ears covered.  Hear no evil.  They are not at the table, they don't understand peace.  Music must be free, there is no toil, there is no mission.  It's just made.  It just sounds.

Everyone freeze, stay still, breathe lightly.  The air is tainted somehow, state to state, town to town.  The lockdowners are jerking their knees, it's all they know, it's what they do, they panic.  Poiseless.  Without cool. Intentional and unrelenting, the kookie keep blabbering.  It's become a humlike noise, a ticker tape, an alert, a notification.  Delusion food. Dole it out, the delusional must eat.  Like teenagers, the dumb and cleaned are always hungry. Divide the masses.  Pit.  Stir.  Create sides, take sides.  Confuse.

Tired of guidance, sick of recommendations, worn out on declarations, and apathetic to proclamations.  Bluster and his cousin Squeal.  Words of blah.  No form, no thought.  Blurts. Rationality and the check out, gone to the islands for awhile, gone exploring, gone America.  When the whiners kept whining.  The worst of all traits, even the whiners agree.  Annoyers are different, the come from the agitator tribe.  They have a sense of humor. Whiners are no fun, everything must suck, and all must be told of the suck.  Convinced, eventually, but either way, all does suck and will suck.  In that whine voice, from the back of the throat.  The squinted eyes, the raised upper lip, the eww face.  Ugly.