Run For The Door

witness the songs as they are written
bought some pants 'cause my jeans ain't fittin'
accused of lookin, but i knew i didn't
don't want to pretend no more

thinking of a girl that took me for granted
left in the night, alone and abandoned
try to ignore it but i just can't stand it
'bout to make a run for the door

cards and calls and panic attacks
if i leave now, i could never look back
they'd find me somehow, they'd trace my tracks
i'll live with a heart that's torn

woke in the morning, soaked with regret
dreamed about a woman i never ever met
i owe her a song to clear my debt
she's the reason i was born

gg7
cc7
gg7
dcg

Hi Koo To You Too

crumbs in my bedroom
startled to hear the laughing
my poor ole honeys

Absurd, The Passions

a shroud, the denseness
laboring awake
faith not felt
known and enduring
peppered
the mind's connections
unspoken and locked
light bulbs, unpackaged

three alarms, marinaded
social hour
tweed and polish
cancellations
the downsiders and outsiders
mystical and unbound
brave sinners
absurd, the passions

The Smell Of Fog

never had a chance to smell fog
until i rode through some
open air, chilly
never even thought of smelling fog
til i smelled it
didn't know i was smelling it for awhile
just riding, i guess
we see it from afar
pictures are taken
we are warned
fog as a curse on the land
its blanket with hill tops
and mountain tops peering
we feel it at times, its heaviness
suffocating and wet
never considered the smell
just took it in
by chance, or divine clarity
(doesn't matter)
i smelled fog two mornings ago
like an explosion
amplified its surroundings
microphone of smell
reverb jacked to ten
the grass, the trees, the tires
pure and thick it smelled
the molecules lingered
closed my eyes for a moment
to dismiss the distractions
actually, several moments
hypnotized by motor sounds
i'll never forget the smell

Trick Plays

slipped past the distracted girls at the gate
wandered to the other side, with the latter day saints
sat on the grass in a shady spot
watched a trick play develop, then fail

talked of families and committments
the cheering section loud and untamed to our left
finally the bell sounded and we met across the street
half tequila shots with peach slices

outside, the breeze was cool and the trees were bare
couldn't locate the car keys, pockets full of receipts
in the shade, half buried with the dust, they laid on the ground
as if we were meant to be delayed
        

Red Wine (And Penguins)

its red color, bloodlike,
silky and smooth
warms the janurary night
your shedding scarf
roped around the neck
of an angel
wheat crust, so delicate and sweet
the taste of carmelization
and fowl
the slumber ends with moaning
the groans to come
boredom and mindless motions
recounting the past travels
beaches, old hotels, and sunsets
a winter wonderland awaits

Glimpses

glimpses is all we get
sweet validation
not deserved
but given
to thankless
babes
who mostly do not notice
and don't really care
the shame of it
sad
too busy to catch the glimpses
too important to look in awe
too smart to believe
too dumb to not understand
sad, really
and the glimpses continue
like gifts given to enemies
bribes?
whatever it takes
we want to fight
He wants to bribe
He won't fight
why should He?
so we fight each other
hysterical and crazed
while some refuse
and see the constant
glimpses