It’s strange when someone talks especially to me
And they talk so plain and it hasn’t been planned
But isn’t it funny
That after so long I can still understand
For just seven days of a year
I'll have nothing to fear not because I am old
Because for now I'll never go hungry
Or never get cold
Yet how do I say that I’m grateful
Embarringsly so
So I'll do it this way
Say thanks from the heart
When we have to part
But next year when the shelter is open
And you’re doing you’re thing
I’ll be one bigging you up
And you’ll praise I’ll sing.
So if by chance
You don’t see me again
The chance is
Thanks to you efforts last Christmas
Everything changed
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Sunrise
She waited for the dawn to break
The sun to rise
For life to her was a suprise.
She never wished for more than was
Just dawn to break
The sun to rise
And once in a while perfect skies
The sun to rise
For life to her was a suprise.
She never wished for more than was
Just dawn to break
The sun to rise
And once in a while perfect skies
Recycling at it best
I hate my father who taught me the tricks of the trade
With two kids and a wife and a dog was how I was paid
So I recycled the wife for someone to keep
Alas no came so I buried her deep
Now I’m not one to bear grudges
Well, not for awhile
You got to admit I do things in style
My kids are now all grown and all have left home
But now I’m haunted by all the things that I've done
And the ghost of my wife who now annoys me for fun
So it would have been best If I’d not laid her to rest
Now I strongly believe divorce would have been best
So if you’re thinking about getting rid of you’re wife
Don’t do what I did
It could ruin your life.
Now this is a tale of a love that did fail
But just in case you are tempted like me
There are much better ways to set yourself free.
Recycle its just better fun
With two kids and a wife and a dog was how I was paid
So I recycled the wife for someone to keep
Alas no came so I buried her deep
Now I’m not one to bear grudges
Well, not for awhile
You got to admit I do things in style
My kids are now all grown and all have left home
But now I’m haunted by all the things that I've done
And the ghost of my wife who now annoys me for fun
So it would have been best If I’d not laid her to rest
Now I strongly believe divorce would have been best
So if you’re thinking about getting rid of you’re wife
Don’t do what I did
It could ruin your life.
Now this is a tale of a love that did fail
But just in case you are tempted like me
There are much better ways to set yourself free.
Recycle its just better fun
Friday, December 26, 2008
Good advice
My mother told me about the facts of life
But she never told me about the trouble and strife
With age I've learned a bit
And some facts i've sort of made to fit
But she never told me about the trouble and strife
With age I've learned a bit
And some facts i've sort of made to fit
Saying nothing
Who is the man who says nothing
Then says everything
Who is the man that denies his own existence
While living on a knifes edge
Yet, who am I to gander at others
And whatever should be
For all that I am is all I should be
But such is life
It's me thats left wanting
Then says everything
Who is the man that denies his own existence
While living on a knifes edge
Yet, who am I to gander at others
And whatever should be
For all that I am is all I should be
But such is life
It's me thats left wanting
Just a wish for an old penny
Do you remember he whispers softly
So no one can hear
Only the ghost of a memory that’s seemingly near
Do you remember that rusty old half a crown
We found when I was bending in pain
It’s not much
It’s a loaf of bread
Glass of wine
It was saving our day
Making everything fine
I remember you saying
It’s as if it where yesterday
But I remember it well
It was just me and you
And I remember
When hunger had struck at our very core
Being together we weren’t very sure
Both with holes in our shoes
And the wandering blues
Just another day
Us showing age and getting so weary
But I remember it well he whispers so softly
For the ghosts in his mind
Yet still life wasn’t that bad in those days.
So no one can hear
Only the ghost of a memory that’s seemingly near
Do you remember that rusty old half a crown
We found when I was bending in pain
It’s not much
It’s a loaf of bread
Glass of wine
It was saving our day
Making everything fine
I remember you saying
It’s as if it where yesterday
But I remember it well
It was just me and you
And I remember
When hunger had struck at our very core
Being together we weren’t very sure
Both with holes in our shoes
And the wandering blues
Just another day
Us showing age and getting so weary
But I remember it well he whispers so softly
For the ghosts in his mind
Yet still life wasn’t that bad in those days.
The stranger
When I met a stranger
Who just got stranger and stranger
And talked as if singing.
Which left my ears stinging
But I didn’t mind being kind
To the stranger who was stranger than me
Yet I felt as if he was being polite
By talking as if singing
Please let it all be.
But me being me
I continued to listen and waited for things to come a head
He suddenly screamed and was holding heart
And shouted fooled you instead.
So now I’m fully aware of the scare
At night I think of the stranger that was stranger than me.
Who just got stranger and stranger
And talked as if singing.
Which left my ears stinging
But I didn’t mind being kind
To the stranger who was stranger than me
Yet I felt as if he was being polite
By talking as if singing
Please let it all be.
But me being me
I continued to listen and waited for things to come a head
He suddenly screamed and was holding heart
And shouted fooled you instead.
So now I’m fully aware of the scare
At night I think of the stranger that was stranger than me.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Still I Am
I am but a painter
My mind my seeing eye
Canvas pictures paint
But beauties capture
Just too far
But still I am the painter
I am but the sculptor
A thousand statues sculpt
Lifeless still nothing breathes
Perfection just too far
But still I am the sculptor
I am but the teacherOf numbers word and life
Teaching nothing but everything
Myself I am still learning
But still I am the teacher
My mind my seeing eye
Canvas pictures paint
But beauties capture
Just too far
But still I am the painter
I am but the sculptor
A thousand statues sculpt
Lifeless still nothing breathes
Perfection just too far
But still I am the sculptor
I am but the teacherOf numbers word and life
Teaching nothing but everything
Myself I am still learning
But still I am the teacher
Perfect
Oh how I wish to be perfect
To do the right thing
But in a life of so many twists and wrong turns
And days when endless lessons
Seemingly never are learned
Oh how I wish to have an idea
Something so plain
yet something so clear
Not pie in the sky
Or with question of why
Oh how I wish just to be me
That agrees with the times
But with me being free
Oh how I wish to be perfect
But what’s the right thing?
To do the right thing
But in a life of so many twists and wrong turns
And days when endless lessons
Seemingly never are learned
Oh how I wish to have an idea
Something so plain
yet something so clear
Not pie in the sky
Or with question of why
Oh how I wish just to be me
That agrees with the times
But with me being free
Oh how I wish to be perfect
But what’s the right thing?
coffee with optimism
Coffee? she said kindly and smiled
And I with a grin
Said, I wished it was gin
But that was the day
When give me a drink was all I could say
Yet still I think of time and how its rushed by
How many times I did stop and think and how many times did I try
And when did I dance or when did I sing
And now I just wonder is it more gloom that tomorrow may bring
But just for today I’m clean and I’m sober
Feeling ancient and just a little bit older.
Yet life at this moment it couldn’t be better as I said in the letter
But who is to blame for these thoughtful thoughts
It was that woman who smiled and said coffee
And I with a grin
Said, I wished it was gin
But that was the day
When give me a drink was all I could say
Yet still I think of time and how its rushed by
How many times I did stop and think and how many times did I try
And when did I dance or when did I sing
And now I just wonder is it more gloom that tomorrow may bring
But just for today I’m clean and I’m sober
Feeling ancient and just a little bit older.
Yet life at this moment it couldn’t be better as I said in the letter
But who is to blame for these thoughtful thoughts
It was that woman who smiled and said coffee
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
me myself
I was the world in my hay day.
Less the unwanted times I dont wish to remember.
Yet yesterday slipped quietly by
Left me wondering why.
Yesterday now is only a memory.
An illusion created by me.
All I wanted was life
All I got was the mess that was me.
Yet still I smile.
I laugh out loud at funny things my life observed
Today I still feel mystery
How do I make my own history
Less the unwanted times I dont wish to remember.
Yet yesterday slipped quietly by
Left me wondering why.
Yesterday now is only a memory.
An illusion created by me.
All I wanted was life
All I got was the mess that was me.
Yet still I smile.
I laugh out loud at funny things my life observed
Today I still feel mystery
How do I make my own history
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Epitaph
Who’s is that face behind the can
This one’s face you never see
It could be you it could be me
Swaying this way that
Speech a little slurred
Hands that shake with can
Eyes a little blurred
His day will start with a can or two
Then he’ll beg for another few
Then feeling rough a little tired
Place him self up on the ground
Without a murmur without a sound
In your way he does not care
It Does not matter if you’re there
He says his world is full of fools
Doesn’t know it’s just the booze
When he awakes and no booze is there
Has silent anger so beware
He’ll beg and beg and beg some more
His normality will return for sure
This empty world is all he knows
But life for him just slowly goes
No real desire to change his ways
His way of life so full of yesterdays
On his headstone someone wrote
They made it plain and clear
This man he was my friend
His way of life
It just brought him here
This one’s face you never see
It could be you it could be me
Swaying this way that
Speech a little slurred
Hands that shake with can
Eyes a little blurred
His day will start with a can or two
Then he’ll beg for another few
Then feeling rough a little tired
Place him self up on the ground
Without a murmur without a sound
In your way he does not care
It Does not matter if you’re there
He says his world is full of fools
Doesn’t know it’s just the booze
When he awakes and no booze is there
Has silent anger so beware
He’ll beg and beg and beg some more
His normality will return for sure
This empty world is all he knows
But life for him just slowly goes
No real desire to change his ways
His way of life so full of yesterdays
On his headstone someone wrote
They made it plain and clear
This man he was my friend
His way of life
It just brought him here
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