I shoulda
never qwit that job
I'd be eatin'
corn on the cob
I woulda
been workin' full-time
instead of writin'
this foolish rhyme
I coulda
stopped all my flirtin'
gotten married instead of
all this hurtin'
Sleeping on the cold hard ground...
~~~
I shoulda woulda coulda
married
that
girl
I shoulda woulda coulda
given
it
a whirl
I shoulda woulda coulda
been more
than
a squirrel
Sleeping on the cold hard ground...
~~~
I shoulda
got off the train
when it was
the thing to do
I woulda
got on the plane
I'd be ridin'
high with you
I coulda
bought a ticket
if I hadn't
caught the flu
Sleeping on the cold hard ground...
~~~
Feedin'
a tiny fire
little
tiny twigs
So the flames
don't go higher
or the ranger will
find my diggs
It's so damn
cold
my brown eyes
are turning blue
Every minute I'm
gettin' old
I coulda
been home with you
Here comes
a coral snake
slitherin'
thru the grass
I rock n' roll
n' shake
as he
bites my lonely ass
Sleeping on the cold hard ground...
~~~
Twistin' twistin'
around in the dirt
'til every
bone is hurt
The buttons are
snappin' off
my hand-me-down
cowboy shirt
My shoes are
full of mud
my mouth is full
of crud
I woulda been
a contender if
I wasn't
such a dud
Sleeping on the cold hard ground...
~~~
My back is
racked with pain
my mind is
going insane
All my children
aunts & uncles
are
praying for rain
I am
all washed up
dead flies floatin' in
my coffee cup
And the mountain
above me
happens to be
about to erupt
Rain & fire!
Rain & fire!
a new tramp in town
no longer fer hire
Dead on the cold hard ground
Dead on the cold hard ground...
~~~
Be true
to your baby
work smart
and hard
Be true
get serious
don't
be a card
In a useless deck
of fifty-one
or you may end up
one poor son of a gun
Sleeping on the cold hard ground...
~~~
The women especially have gone wild, frantically pulling ribbons out of their hair & coyly playing with the buttons on their blouses. They cross & recross their legs under the tables. Being as I am the only one on stage, I am the only witness to this under-the-table activity, which, in my estimation, is the real show ~ and, amazingly, its mean't just for me! Every female knee in the joint seems to be pointed in my direction or swinging aside like a gate, inviting my eyes into a more provacative under-the-skirt arena.
I am unabashedly mortified.
Even the tough busnessmen behind big cowboy belt-buckles seem to want an encore. One swings his beer mug into the air & howls, "Sing another one, Clyde!"
~~~
Sleeping-bag culture
UFO tent
can this really be
time worthily spent?
From dusk 'til dawn
no fire, no light
the water near gone
am I really alright?
Sleeping-bag culture
UFO tent
just flying around
without paying the rent
From one old memory
to another
all the women I've ever known
and Our Holy Mother
Sleeping-bag culture
UFO tent
sleeping & dreaming
waking-up spent
Cold instant coffee
crackers & spam
nice landing, my son
but you're still on the lamb...
~~~
Until, finally, the dream fades, ends, and I find myself, really, alone in a small tent in the woods. The only tune around, really, is the cold cold wind in a dark dark night ~ combing pine needles on swaying trees.
###
this page's crown:
"Dream of Jacob" by Dr. He Qi of China