straight from the pages of a rusty old man

do you have work tomorrow?
I know a beach not too far
and it's never too crowded
the forecasts say showers
but they're often wrong

drink red wine and smoke
and lie in the sun...
then when it gets dark
just take the ferry home



it's four AM and raining
I'm trying to get some sleep
thinking about my life
and these girls I met on the street

but now it's time to leave them
and I make my way outside
chasing rainbows in the dirt
seeing shadows in the snow


when I sang my first song
to the river alone
it was like she could hear me calling
she burst out her banks
deprived man of his throne
and signed me a golden letter

when I told my passion
to my very first kiss
she held me hostage for years
it's hard to admit
that a love such as this
should be my only poison

when I saw myself
in the God up above
I just couldn't keep writing
this vision it seems
to fit like a glove
and I fear I can never go home

fucking gypsies

I'd like to piss in
that sweet anna lee's
pretty little mouth

then I'd tell the gov'nor
and any fucker who asks
my name and motivation

those dirty gypsies
that bitch anna lee
that stole my wife and children


I hate gypsies. Ever since that fortune teller ruined my love life. I was with this girl, who was with two guys. But the other relationship was dying, until she went and had her fortune told. The gypsy said "You're going to find a man with a white car and a beach-house", which funnily enough fit her other man. You figure out the rest. Fuckers.

pretty camp

a wind chime at the door
a train rumbles past
this isn't love for us
maybe just comfort
she lifts her heavy head
and very slowly stirs
tells me that it's time to go
I've been here far too long