Go Dizzy

Close it up again, shutter.  Wrap this year in Saran Wrap, pull it tight.  The air might getcha.  Don't let the air getcha.  Getcha, getcha, getcha.  

The boogieman bums are back.  Amatuers of the lowest order, the gutter league, the small timers.  Let them clock stare, let them tick their tock alone. They can count it down by themselves.  From ten to one.

The ball fools.  Resolution whacks, the turn leaf liars, the wave chasers.  Spin.  Go dizzy in the new year, go around again.  Spin.

Down With Delta

 

Down with Delta, it's Delta down.
Find your soul in their lost and found.
Their planes seem stinky and full of scuzz.
Dumping them forever, just because...

Hell, they don't care.
Heck, they're not fair.
Messed with my children.
Oh, don't you dare.

So I'm down on Delta, take Delta down.
Hear that knocking, that grudgy sound.
Gonna leave a review, no need to be rude.
One star of 5, good for my grudgy mood.

EAAE

DEx2.ADE

Quit Like The Brits

Sense of something common, it's freezing in here.  Same revolution.  It just goes and goes, ripping back our freedom and dignity, turning it up to 11.  Make 'em quit like the Brits.  We don't want your empire.

Fluctuate and position, scheme and strategize, blame the game, dish the pain.  Assume too much, fill in the blanks with delusions.  Chew on it.  Nothing will make it taste better.  Days are numbered, we are in the double digits now.

The color of thin clouds at dawn.  Fluorescent.  Moving northeast, clearing out.  Bright days ahead.  Lizzy tunes about jailbreaks.

The Light Winter

Forget the leaves, the turning is done.  Now is the time for the rakes.  Bag these old, crispy, red oakers.  Get the damn acorns too.  Shade will return in spring, the light winter is here getting ready for the birth.

Word is out.  Maybe has been upgraded to probably with doubt running for the back door.  When the house lights blaze, the gig is over.  Time to get.  Time to get going.

Shambles are fine, all our broken ways.  We'll stay afloat, somehow, someway.  Like always, so far.  The gone know more than the present.  Missing someone on the roll call this morning.

We're All Done

 

February 1, think we're all done.
We'll have our say with election returns.
Ain't reading your signs no more.
Done, we're done, we're all just bored.

EEAE

EEDE

X2.

Ole Fitz

 

Say hello to Grandma, say hello to Ole Fitz too.
Tell 'em all about their radical crew.
Tell 'em 'bout the Turkey Bowl, tell 'em 'bout the fishing holes.
Tell 'em all about their radical crew.

Times we went down to the wire, times our pants caught on fire.
Times we threw it up for grabs, times we drove 'em mad.
Times we felt the hands of God, times we knew we all got robbed.
The times don't always act like we want 'em to.

Sure you'll have a smile on your face, smirking like you knew 'bout grace.
How's it feel to have your sins washed clean for good?
Maybe the Cowboys'll make a run, prolly not the refs are bums.
Guess it'll all be just as it should.

Say hello to Grandma, say hello to Ole Fitz too.
Tell 'em all about their radical crew.
Tell 'em 'bout the Turkey Bowl, tell 'em 'bout the fishing holes.
Tell 'em all about their radical crew.

GC/GD/GC/GDG

Blackmail Gravy

The bribes were a pleasure to take, so fly and new, so hidden and unknown.  The things, the places, the glory.  Spend it like a freebird, fast and flashy.  Signal the next benefactors, squirm up more green lettuce, more green backs, more green juice.  The fun part.

Then the cooking starts.  Butter first, to grease the pan, to coat the food, to make it savory.  Next, the meat, marinaded and trimmed, turned once.  Mushrooms and onions added, simmered down, sautéed.  More butter.

Seasoned with salt and pepper, the knife and fork are ready to devour the delicious.  But first, some blackmail gravy on top, it's just how the dish is served.  Ignore the sour, bitter taste.  Pay no attention to the runny, lumpy, gooey substance ruining the food.  The bribed will eat it anyway.