Ashes

Ashes ashes dust to dust
The babies cry the momma's cuss
Daddy's home in rocking chair
Lookin round but no one's there

Workin for the workin man
Rich are poor don't understand
Clocks are tickin' time is old
Sun is goin down

Ashes ashes curtain call
Green red velvet on them all
Violent vicious victim run
Annie go n' get your gun

Pushin' for the cushion couch
Take up tramp get out o' town
Will and Bobby comin soon
Sun is goin down

I don't feel alright
I don't feel alright


Ashes ashes stir the pot
Spin the spells that you've been taught
Walls are talking in your dreams
In your bed his sister sleeps

Telling you to wish him well
Sister drinks to his good health
No ones coming No one will
Sun is goin down

Ashes ashes take your spoon
lift the lid leave the room
Pinch of salt and pepper too
The witches brew The witches brew

Read the writing on the wall
He's not coming he don't call
Free your mind free your mind
Sun is goin down


But I don't feel alright
I don't feel alright

Ashes ashes dust to dust
Get me to my yellow bus
Take me to the fishing man
I've got to fill my tuna can

Got no wake up for the morn
Some one took my half
Left me with a empty bag
Sun is goin down

Ashes ashes on the bed
I'm not right in the head
Never have I'll never be
Don't look at me don't look at me

If I talk if I shout
If I'm lying on the ground
If you don't like what you see
Shut the door leave me

I don't feel alright
I don't feel alright

Ashes ashes dust to dust
The Queen is cold the King is
Gone to find a better home
The castle's over grown

Careful careful when your step
Poison ivy everywhere
Something heavy something new
Something's goin down

Ashes ashes dust to dust
Paper covers rock
Grab your scissors if you can
We're running outta luck

The world is turning
The world is turning
Looking for a rhyme
We're outta time
We're outta time
The sun is goin down

I don't feel alright
I don't feel alright

The Queen

The Queen sits crossed legged.
Stoic.
Stone cold.
Looking out her new kitchen windows.
Remodeled, redone, retreated.
Nothing old anymore.
No soul.
No story.
Just like her.

She doesn't recall her life.
She doesn't remember the details.
She doesn't like a mess.
She likes her things.

She walks the castle admiring the kitchen.
Granite.
Steal.
Imported from Italy.
Terribly modern.
Terribly perfect.
Tea cups nestled in German saucers.
She doesn't drink tea.
Linens folded, sleeping in plastic wrapping.
She does not eat.
Silver flatware swaddled in green velvet.
She doesn't entertain.
No people.
No children.
No animals.
Not for The Queen.
Old people are allowed if necessary.
With notice.
Of course.
She is obsessed
With wrought iron.
Everywhere, curly-cues in California Modern
Swallow the windows
Like ivy overgrown
Redirecting story tellers away.
She does not write anymore.
She does not remember her family.
She cannot recall.
Her family does not remember her anymore.
They do not visit.

There were too many rules.
No playing.
The wallpaper may smudge.
No running.
The carpet may wear.
No laughing.
Her head might ache.
The Queen
The Queen
The Queen

Her hair is dyed on Mondays.
Her shopping day is Tuesday.
She cuts the pink roses on Friday.
Her left eye twitches on Saturday afternoon.

When nervous or attacked, she holds her hand flat against her chest.
Composed.
Designated.
A European painting.
The Queen speaks in quiet tones.
Muted apologies.
Robotic.
Insincere.

The Queen is ugly.
Her children are failures.
Her grandchildren are too many.
The castle has no mirrors.

The King has slept through reconstruction.
He wakes.
The King sits crossed legged next to The Queen looking out her new kitchen window.

Things Have Changed

Lot of water under the bridge, lot of other stuff too
Don’t get up gentlemen, I’m only passing through

People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed...." Bob Dylan

Everything has changed...
I hear you talking but I don't understand you anymore.
I used to laugh on the punchline but I'm still waiting for it.
I can't seem to like anything I used to enjoy.
And this is not a bad thing...

Something has happened.
Something strange and witchy.
Plates have shifted and I am in another time.

I don't socialize, I don't make the rounds, I don't fuck....anymore.
Something has happened to me...

I have no urge to compete.
I have no answer to "what are you doing?"
I have no taste for small talk.
And this is not a bad thing....

Something happened.
Something other planetary
metaphysical
extraordinary
Something profound

I saw my life fall apart, break at the seems, unravel....
But this was not a bad thing...

It was overdue
It was necessary.

It is almost a year. It is almost full circle.
But
There is no starting point.
I am not rebuilding the past. There is no past.

You don't recognize me as I am not me.
The show I performed?
Gone.
The songs I sang?
Erased.

Petrasekovitch says, going to zero is infinity.
It is.
I am at zero.
Now I am happy.
Now I am me.
Now I understand
more than I ever have...

Something happened and I snuck away.
I left.
I disappeared.
I left you and you and you and you and you and you and you....
I didn't say so long.
I didn't explain.

I can, a bit, now...
It was because you don't love me.
You don't know me. You don't see me.
You pushed.
All of you,
pushed.
And I pulled
For a very
long
time.

But,
I know love now.
I have real love now.
I am truly, madly, deeply in love.

And it makes your jokes, sad.
It has turned your passions, dull.
It has muted your eyes and salted your tears.
It has choked your ramble, silent.
And this is not a bad thing.....

And now I float
I read
I write
I go to the races
I cheer for the champions
I drink
I sleep
I walk

At a halved pace
Strolling
Slowly
Serenely
Sweetly

Things have changed

King Bird and The Twitter Thief

"Kisses to you King Bird.
Let the wings spread.
Right then left.
Let the rain fall.
Let the heart melt against time.
You'll always be mine.."

At Bob's coffee
I vowed to never twitter The Lover, King Bird.
With a shivering cigarette in hand I proudly performed for the crossword cackle,
The knitting circle,
The ladies of the dawn.
"I solemnly swear to cease all twitting of The Lover"!
I proclaimed.
Ay Ay was received all around.
Ay Ay young blondie. "You hath made a wise and discerning decision" the ladies praised.
But was I ready?
Ready to cut off the light, rip the raw, pinch the pipe, withdraw, cold turkey, dry the jerky?
Was I ready to let it be, set him free
Counting
1
2
....3

Yes.
I'm ready. I made the vow. I never swear unless it's certain. For good, for keeps, rain or shine, till death do die.
So goodbye my beloved twitter sick tic.
I will not follow in the house
I will not follow out and about
I will not follow no way no how
I will not refresh or test
The twitter always get the best or better with every one hundred and forty
letters.
One hundred and forty ways to stay afloat and in the loop, get the scoop of his next big move.
Now you can understand,
The vow was most necessary. Most urgent and dire.
There would be no way out of the twitter hell fire.
Thieving and retrieving daily doses of a personally translated love prognosis
Is not
A way
To spend a life.

But it's so fucking tempting.
My blackberry just lays there, warm and vibrating. It wants to be twitted. It wants to be tapped and triggered. twittered. twittered. twittered.
As soon as I wake up it licks my face with a sloppy tongue and sniffs my neck and then...
"twitter...
the lover..
twitter...
the lover..
twitter the lover!!!!!"

"What the fuck?
You're talking?
Really?
You want me to twitter?
You want me to twitter?
But I haven't even...I haven't even brushed my teeth. I haven't even opened my eyes yet. I'm still fucking dreaming and you want me to twitter?

Alright. I'll do it" I'd say. I'm a slut. I'm a trick.
A twitter trick slut.

And it never, I mean never made me feel closer. Twittering The Lover is fucking crazy pants. Twittering makes you think you know what the twitteree really means.
I don't fucking know what he meant when he said...Well, I can't say what he said.
But I don't fucking know.
I don't know anything.
Humans are really fucking crazy people.
We do the most hilarious dance when it comes to romance.
Oh man,
Oh god,
Oh god.....I've done the lowest of the low.
I've twittered when it was not known.
I charted and checked.
I defined and mislead
Myself.
Twitter is a thief.
It is the black painted devil in disguise. It taunts me and ruffs me up real good and John Locks the shit out of me.
Smoke monster.
Twitter is the fucking smoke monster.
JACOB!!!!
I want to leave the Island.
This is the how and why of it.
The vow and cry of it.
The last of the twitters. The last of the chain link. The end of the dirt road I'm told. Here is where I truly set myself free from the twitter tree. Here is where I send King Bird to fly his sweet life
as
he
sees
fit.
Twitter this!
Without stalking or rocking the clouds.
I will let him be and I will be proud
again.
Of myself and what was.

So, I vowed.
I vowed for all that still may be.
I vowed for goodness and world peace.
I vowed for self love and self respect.
I vowed for the children.
I vowed for Jeff Garland who was looking on as I vowed.
I vowed for the future.
For Ono.

And for the King Bird.
Ah The King Bird, The Lover,
So lovely,
....Fly away..twitter your precious sweet wings. I shall twitter my way. You twitter yours. If we ever tweet in the middle it will be forever.
And if we never do?
Coo coo cachoo or tweet tweet or fuck fuck or
Cluck cluck.

But I will not steal away what is not mine.
I will not twitter that which is thine.

Yup

The lights turned on.
It'd been dark for a while.
Hearts part ways.
Lingering
Loveless
Periods
Ensue.
I indulged in such pitying.
I retraced my steps.
I darted the corners of the yellow room where we once slept.
I considered flying back to him.
Prompt a reunion.
I thought of the past.
I stumbled over bitter nights of tears and torment.
I mumbled over sweet moments we shared.
In the restaurant,
In the white bed,
At the hotel and in the kitchen.
He cooked for me once in the red kitchen.
Steak.
Salt.
Pepper.
Rocket.
Lemon.
Olive Oil.
Baby carrots.
Butter.
It was honest.
It was simple.
The best of the memories.
But after the sweet came the hysteria, and the sour.
The future weighed heavy.
"How will I love again?"
Typical question when love turns.
I cannot touch another" I'd say..
I cannot kiss another...I'd moan..
I cannot start again...I believed..
Why?
...because I held to the love. And did I ever.
Not a kiss for close to a year.
No hookup, no hiked skirt.
Lady in waiting.
Upholding
Ceremonious
My first true love.
The kind of love that makes you cry when making love.
Fuck it was good.
The kind of love that makes American Idol seem useful.
The last of my endeavoring search for a lifetime love.
Bawling as Casey covered "Jealous Guy" in the arms of The Little One.
Twittering.
Facebooking.
Watching.
Waiting.
FUCK!
Fuck ran through my mind for months. Fuck ran through my blood.
Get out.
Get the fuck out of me.
Release the dog. The demon. The devil. The ghost.
Candles lit.
Journals filled and filed.
Come or go.
Come or go.
Come or go!!!!
Mayhem.
So Why?
Why hold to love?
Love ended!
Because. Because. Because.
But because never changes the story.
He changed his mind.
Decidedly. Indifferently. Quickly.
"I'm exhausted" he explained.
"I need rest" he purred.
"Why?" I squealed.
"Why?" I held to with a hurricane of hope.
"Because" he sighed.
"Don't torture yourself" he preached.
Then why did I?
Mental lust.
Physical fantasy.
Memory psychosis.
His soulfulness.
My regret.
His tenderness.
My desire.
His fantasies.
My lesson.
Deep, honest, intimate, absolute and true
Love.
And...
Fear.
Blinding Fear.
Fucking useless, joyless, fear.
Because it wasn't "yup".
It was airplane. Skype and the like. High. Low.
Salvation. Levitation. Co creation. Designation.
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.
I need you. I need you. I need you.
Go away. Go away. Go away.
No, come back.
True and false. Premature. Overdone. Mismatched. Perfect fit. Inevitable. Doomed.
Drug. Heroine. White Bread. Cocaine. Desperate. Stuffing. Sugar. Painted. Raging. Wanting. Lust. Suck. Heavy.
Performance Art.
On both sides.
On both ends.
Mutually....

But, too little too late.
Mules are stubborn, swiftly chilled. Twins are impossible, fantastically insane.
Mules decide and reside. Twins float and follow.
I thought to be his wife.
That's why.
That's the fucking why.
I thought I was done. I thought I was anointed, crowned, cooked, feathered, fitted, admitted. Yessed, blessed, respected, elected mother fuckin' Queen Jane.

Oh dear me.


Well then.
Let's try and do this again.
Wipe the why. Scratch the past.
Redo.
I have new
I have new love.
Let me rephrase.
I have knew knowledge. New pull. New mojo. New talent. New configure. New squeeze.
Slipped right in.
Blew like a breeze and most unexpectedly.
Mr. Brown.
There is something exquisite about the surprise.
Makes you catch your breath. Makes you warm inside. Makes you vibrate.
No quake. No shake.
Just a hummmmm.
I won't try to move on.
I won't figure on the how and then...
There he'll be.
The future.
The next evolution.
My desire re-emerged.

At the same lame hipster spot downtown.
Can't even pronounce the name it will be so god damn hip.
High heels and a fucking fantastic new do
I'll go out for a quick smoke.
The little one in toe and we'll be chatting.
Leaning against a rail.
Mr. Brown will arise from the bench and motion for his friend to do the same. "Would you like to sit?" We'll both say thank you.
He'll draw me in.
It won't be the kindness.
It won't be the facial hair.
A little the facial hair. Wink.
But really it will be the eyes. It's always the eyes.
Amazing this love stuff. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything but the eyes.
The eyes, the eyes, the eyes...
Soulful, deep, brown, endless.
His hair.
Thick chocolate, almost black.
A slight wave.
Standing strong.
Mr. Brown.
He won't look around at the crowd.
He'll look right at me.
Knowing.
Pull.
Mojo.
Yup.

That'll be it.
I've had yup before.
Only a handful of times. I can have it again.
It's not sexual. It's not a man woman thing. It's not Hollywood. It's not Legends of the Fucking Fall. There's no big bang.
It's Silent Night.
It's next generation. It's metaphysical celebration. It's tender. It's knowing. It's fucking lovely.
Lovely.
What a word.
Lovely means everything to me.
It's yup with a dress.

When I met Jhoon, it was hmmm. Yup.
Good stuff.
When I met The Baraness
It was motion.
Calm.
Joined forces amidst the insane. Yup.
When I met The Little One, we stood in a parking lot, lit a cigarette.
There was nodding.
See, knowing. Nothing too grand or excitable. Nothing too hot. Nothing to shiver about. Nothing to swoon over. Just a nod of the head and a "yup".

Yup intersections last for fucking ever.
Quick fix white bread, "you said you loved me" end in a tired blink.
Yups are brilliant. They are artistic. Photographic. Reality. Reality with icing. Not a fucking catastrophic black hole oozing disease and rejection. Yup doesn't slice or tease. Yup says "yes please".
Yes please, I will have yup tonight with a side of yup and yup on ice and for dessert two scoops of yup.
Thank you very fucking much.
I will not have Kaboom! I will not swoon, I will not rattle, I will not change my look, suck it in, giggle when I don't agree, act like the woman you want me to be.
It will be calm,
It will be quiet,
It will be comfortable.
The familiar.
Easy. Easy. Easy.
Does anyone know easy anymore?
I do.
It's new.
No more begging, we got that out of the way recently. No more needing, we shot needing in the fucking face. And no more crying, seriously? fuck crying.
It will be easy.
It will be easy and fantastic.
No strain.
No pain.
He'll get me. I'll get him. Done. Easy.
No push. No explanation. No work. No trying. No nerves. No dying.
No Dylan.
No Desire.
No Come On Baby Light My Fire.
Easy.
And it's easy to know when you feel good.
It's easy to know when you "feel" liked. When someone is listening. When someone is into it. It's so fucking easy. It's undeniable.
Eyes widen.
Response natural.
Laughter rhythmic.
He won't be bored or bothered.
I won't be twitching.
I'll talk music.
He'll listen.
He'll talk pilot.
I will laugh.
Hands moving about in arrows. Diagramming. Shooting through the air. Drawing plot.
Fun. Not "I've got to call my mom, I'm getting married".
Just fun. Cool. Chill. Easy. Yup...
And I have learned from this quiet time of retrospection, that great things come from hardship. Wonderful, classic, sweet and special things are born from the broth of burden.
I have learned about what it is that I do want from the pain of what I don't.
Rather than hear "I Love You", I'd love to be heard.
I'd swap earth shattering for solid ground. Knowing he wants to stick around.
I'd rather be liked than loved.
I'd rather be enjoyed than needed.
And I most definitely want the dance of Good than "I can't live with out you".
Round two.
Round two I'll be better.
Round two I'll be nice. I'll be pretty. I'll be so sweet.
I will not criticize.
I will not idolize.
I will not rebuke.
I will not be cruel.
It will be yup and a sigh and oh me oh my. It will not scare me or dare me to be anything
But me.
And at heart I am kind and giving.
I do love and love well. Just ask my girl friends. Double wink.
I'm not saying Mr. Brown and I won't have the highs.
I'm not saying I won't cry when we make love.
What I'm saying is yup.
And that's it. Nothing else.
Just a nod and a wink and a
Yup.

Don't Beg

No more I say! No more begging.
No more alms for the poor. No more!
I will not ask and plead in need for any person, place or thing.
I will not require your desire to comply with mine.
I will not run ragged in a zig zag, house cat frenzy.
I will not check my messages. I will not be avail. I will not play the part. I will not pull your feeble cart.
I will not stuff you up for a penny in the hand. I will not ride as you fly or grovel as you stand.
I will not take your dare.
I will not push.
I will not bend to your desperation. I will show no hesitation. I will not smile for your delight.
I will not tell you "you're the man"
I will not call you daddy.
I will not spend Sunday singing pop songs!
I will not write words I cannot feel.
I will not fake. I will not heel.
Do not ask me for my time.
Do not try to pull me in.
It will not work.

I will sip slowly. I will linger. I will rest. I will lavish myself. I will be luxury.
I will eat.
I will eat.
I will eat.
I will make love. I will have my cake. I will live the good life. I will entertain. I will be luck. I will beautify, solidify. I will grow wide with riches.
I will become. I will float lightly. I will step in time.
I can do anything.
I can have anything.
I can believe what I want.
I can erase.
I can rewrite.

Begging brings more begging and the like. It brings mania, catastrophic, insanity and sour. It is useless self indulgence. It is the lowest of the low. The pleasure of the powerless, the liquor to the lamb. False worshipers beg. Fear ridden clasp their hands together. The angry and in need prop themselves upon the likes of hysterical prayer. No need. No need. No need. Just lie down.
Don't do a thing. Don't move an inch. Don't write a word. Don't fixate, don't plan. Don't analyze. Don't figure.

Do nothing. Let 'em all run the rat race while we swing and watch the colors shift. Let 'em all burn and dizzy themselves with objectification. Let 'em all copy and compete with the begging false elite. Let them do as they will and as they surely will do, You and I will be eating pie on the coast of Malibu.

We will be in the sand and we will loiter. They will be sandwiched between Small cars and Escalades. We will rub oil and sleep. They will snarl and resent. We will be golden. They will be pale. We will be satisfied. They will fantasize. We will attract. They will repulse...most definitely.

Don't beg.
And when you don't....relief.
Feels so good doesn't it. Not that difficult. Not too complex. Not beyond possibility or imagination.
One tiny transition. One change in your life long disposition. One moment against the rest.
Trade the beg for the breath.

Don't ever beg.
Never.
No.
Don't.

The Dress

I wore the very prettiest little dress today. It's the kind of dress that saves lives. It's a superwoman dress. A Santa frock. A gift giving no shit taking, I'm gonna change your world with one look kind of dress. She's a little piece of heaven this thing...and she knows it.
I wore this dress because it's time. Time to go out. Time to give it back, let it roam, take on the sluts and the prudes, the bums and the mustache wearing, guitar playing mirror men. No more jeans and sheets. Not for me anymore. No more in house, lock down, yawn and frown. I'm done healing and revealing. I'm ready for a fight. I'm ready to wet my back and watch the hair curl again. I've played "Simple Twist of Fate" too many times. I can't look at another frying pan. I don't need more sleep. Keep your adavan. I don't want the warm tea and the soothing sounds of mother nature's ocean. I want the heels. I want the really high heels. The trip on a sprinkler, twist your ankle, break your neck, kind of heels.
I'm wearing the dress for love. For white bread. For the spring dream and peanut butter ice cream. Little tots and big tot. Old love is not gone. It is not dead in the water. But, past is past and I'm not pissed. Quite contrarily, I'm smitten. White bread gone bad makes the very best memory for fairer fare. Old love never leaves anyhow. It always floats around. Should it make a return, I shall be in my dress and I'll say "there you are. bout time you came back. looks like you're a lil' late though...no mind, we'll start a new love, love" The dress is for old sayings and sighs, old lessons learned and very old hearts broken. The dress is for new love, new life, graceful exits and enchanted hellos.
Good morning sunshine, I'm pretty in chintz. Hello red.
Goodbye gray American Apparel downer, though you've always been hot, I'm no hipster. Screw the skinny jean and I'm so mean, look at me looking like I'm not looking at you scene. Who needs the weeds of woe. You're not all that Joe. Pull back your top hat and let loose for winks. I'm back in the tumble. I lost myself for a thirty year rumble and June is singing come the 21st. I'm throwing a tea party and no cool allowed. Uncool Bien Venue! Bring your drink of desire and I'll conspire to roll out the new dress and all that plaid.
Let's not be perfect. Let's slip up. Let's breathe. Let it hang. Let it flower a little. There's nothing wrong with edge. Nothing wrong at all. I love the lines but I'm two sided and a little bit divided. Sometimes quakes crack your egg open and that's when you have to spread. Blur the bold and get a little pretty.
I am pretty today. Oh so pretty. I looked like a fucking barbie. In the prettiest little dress in town, I roamed the Trader Joe's isles. You could smell the joy from the parking lot. No one missed me. Not a basket untouched. Brilliant. Blossoming. Beautiful. The avocados looked wonderful. So did I. I was Something to look at. Something to muse towards. I was a yellow brick road incarnate. I am lady in the sky.
The dress was darling. She did just fine. Better than fine. She changed the whole of me.

I Know You're On The Road

I know you're on the road
You were spotted in the bar
Outside the Sierra Madres
Where the quiet people live
They heard loud talking and fist fighting
They knew it was you
So they call me up to tell me
And they said you looked down
Said you were asking bout your woman
But you could not describe her
They gave you a sedative they said
They gave you a bath too
They put you in a room and then told me
You were crying by the fireplace
And calling for the preacher
He come running for the bar
But when he got there you were off again

I know you're on the road
They found letters on the highway
Stained with wine and dirty with mud
They were recently written
And the handwriting was pronouncedly yours
The words were no others
And the phrasing could not be mistaken
There were sentences and remarks
But no one could understand
At first the letters read like the rambling of a man
Searching for his lover in the cold and misty dark
But then they figured that the letters had been torn apart
They laid em' out across the road
One after another
Trying to decipher which belongs next to the other
After hours upon hours they gave up and walked on
They realized you had done the same

I know you're on the road
A mystic came to me in my dream
She said she's been following you around
She told me you were bothered
And I said I don't know why
She told me you were hurt
And I asked if there was something I could do
She motioned to the window
She lit the candle light
She handed me my shoes and said go now to the road
Find him where he is
Find him in the sunlight
Let him know you once again
On the road or off the bend
Don't speak unless he looks in to your eyes
Don't make excuses for the past
Just tell him nothing can compare to his kiss

I'm Gonna Tell My Mom

I'm gonna tell my mom
I'm gonna tell her what I did last night
I did some things and she's gonna know about them
She's gonna find out about these things and she's gonna cry.
She's gonna get in that robe. There's a robe she has. It's fuzzy. She's gonna wear it.
She's gonna check the clock. Clock's gonna say 7:20. It's gonna say 7:20 am. She's gonna put on that robe and she's gonna come to my room.
I'm gonna be in my room.
I'm not gonna be ready. I'm gonna be asleep.
There's gonna be stuff in my eyes. That stuff that shows up in your eyes when you sleep. That sleep stuff. I'm gonna have that sleep stuff in my eyes.
She's not gonna knock. She never knocks.
The door's gonna open.
She's gonna stand there with the fuzzy robe thing she wears and I'm gonna have the sleep stuff in my eyes and then she's gonna sit on my bed.
She's gonna sit on my bed and cry.
I'm gonna feel bad. She's gonna make me feel really bad.
She's gonna make me feel bad and I'm gonna take it.
I'm gonna take it because she's sitting on my bed and I told my mom.
I told my mom "I did it"
I did do it. I did it and I did it to myself.
I had the sex.
I had the real sex.
I had the premarital sex.
It was good.
I forced the guy. I made him do it to me. I made him do it to me at his dad's house. We did it and now I'm gonna tell my mom.
She's not gonna like it.
My mom's not gonna like that I had the sex.
She's gonna talk about things.
The kind of things you don't want to talk about.
No. She's gonna talk. I'm gonna listen.
She's gonna cry first.
She's gonna wait and then cry.
Then she's gonna sit.
She's gonna wait and then cry and then sit.
My mom's gonna sit and it's gonna be heavy.
Because I had the sex and you can't have the sex.
You can't have the sex if you don't have the ring.
You can't have the sex if you don't have the ring and then the sex.
I'm gonna tell my Orthodox mom that I had the sex
I'm gonna tell her that I had the sex before the wedding.
She's gonna wanna know things.
I'm gonna tell her those things.
She's gonna ask me how she's gonna live.
She's gonna ask me how she's gonna live because I did it.
She's gonna say I ruined her life.
Then she's gonna ask me why.
I'm gonna say I did it.
She's gonna say I shamed the family.
Then she's gonna ask me why.
I'm gonna say I did it and I don't know why.
She's gonna say I disgraced every dead relative.
I'm gonna say I did it and I don't know why and then I'm gonna cry.
She's gonna tell me I killed every living relative I have because I did it
Because after she's done asking me why, she's gonna tell them that I did what I did and they're gonna talk about what I did and they're gonna get into their fuzzy robes and they're gonna burst in to the bedrooms of their kids.
Then they're gonna wake those kids up when they still have the sleep stuff in their eyes and they're gonna say
"Your cousin did it. She did it and she did it without the ring and you better not do it like she did it. You better not do it like she did it or I'm gonna cry. I'm gonna come down every morning and I'm gonna cry. And we're not gonna smile anymore.
We are not gonna smile anymore.
Your cousin did it and we are not gonna smile or laugh anymore and we are gonna be dead.
Because that's what we do. We cry. We're gonna cry and we're gonna cry together and we're gonna talk about death.
We're gonna talk about death and we're gonna talk about sticking together and we are gonna stick together and your cousin's not one of us anymore.
We're not gonna talk about doing it anymore.
And we're not gonna talk about your cousin anymore.
Cuz your cousin is dead to us because she did it. She did it and then she told her mom.
I am not gonna tell my mom.
I am not gonna tell my mom that I did it.
I'm not gonna tell my mom that I had the se.
I'm gonna keep my mouth shut.
I'm gonna keep my mouth shut about doing it and then I'm gonna sleep.

I'm Gonna Fucking Get Married

Today I really mean it
I mean I really mean it
I'm gonna fucking get married.
I'm sitting around a table with my nearest and dearest
And I'm gonna jump out the huge dining room window
I'm gonna look back at the green craftsman
Then I'm gonna scream fuck you mother fuckers down 5th avenue
I'm not gonna stop at Olympic
I'm gonna run the light and confuse the shit out of some spastic Korean driver
I gonna worry him or her or them, that white people are taking over their block.
Then I'm gonna hit the Mobile and slam into the line where the cashier will then swipe my card and hand over two packs of camel lights.
He's gonna know I mean business and he's not gonna ask me for my ID today.
He's gonna know I really mean it.
I'm gonna get fucking married.
I'm gonna get so fucking married today.
And I'm gonna smoke those cigarettes. I'm gonna look really angry and really cool and really angry and really cool and I'm gonna be tough, cuz I'm doing something here. I've got something to do. And I'm gonna smoke and I'm gonna walk. Yeah, I'm gonna smoke and then I'm gonna walk.
I'm not gonna talk to anyone today. I'm gonna trap myself at The Grove and sit in Barnes and Nobles and commandeer the Relationship aisle. I'm gonna sit there and read "Calling in the One" and "If The Buddha Dated" and I'm gonna figure this thing out. Even if I have to die there, swaddled in best sellers, and empty coffee cups.
I'll eat pray love ten thousand times.
I'm gonna manifest.
That's exactly what I'm gonna do.
I'm gonna fucking manifest.
I'm gonna make lists.
I'm gonna type them up.
No I'm gonna hand write them.
That'll really let the universe know I mean it.
Cuz I'm gonna hand write the lists.
I'm gonna use my hands.
I'm gonna get very detailed.
Not gonna leave anything out.
Not gonna make any mistakes this time.
I'm getting married.
I'm gonna list what I want in my soul mate.
Then I'm gonna take that list and stick it in my pocket and It's gonna live in that pocket and it's gonna start sending out radio signals. Real radio signals.
Eric Bana is gonna hear the signal and he's gonna leave his wife.
He's gonna be at brunch and he's gonna hear something. He's gonna hear something and he's gonna get up from his seat. He's gonna say "baby girl, I gotta go" and he's gonna leave his wife.
He's gonna take the first flight out of Melbourne. It's gonna be 10:05am and he's gonna get on that plane. He doesn't know why he's on this plane.
I know why he's on that plane.
It's because I really mean it and I'm sending out these radio signals and I'm gonna get married.
Bana's gonna arrive looking good. He's gonna look good.
Then he's gonna take a cab over to the Chateau Marmonte and he's gonna tip the cab driver a big bill because he's Eric Bana and the guy I'm gonna marry better be a big fucking tipper. He better be generous because that's on my list. I wrote generous on my list. I hand wrote it.
Bana's gonna get a room, maybe a suite.
I'm gonna be there.
I'm gonna be there, downstairs in the lobby of the Chateau Marmonte. I'm gonna be looking at a bowl of green apples. They always have a bowl of green apples. They do things right at the Chauteau Marmont.
This'll be good.
Green apples.
Lobby.
Signals. Signals. Signals. Signals.
And
Then he's gonna show.
Bana's gonna make a left at the bottom of the stairs.
He's gonna walk.
He's gonna walk like a man. It was on the list. It's in my pocket. Signals signals signals
He's gonna ask me for the time.
I'm gonna give him that time.
We're gonna have a drink. I'm gonna order gin. He's gonna order scotch. He's gonna drink that scotch. I'm gonna sip that gin.
Then I'm gonna ignore T Bone Burnett on my right. I'm gonna give a dirty look to the hotel manager and I'm gonna walk upstairs with Bana.
Bana is gonna grab my ass.
He's gonna grab my unmarried ass.
We're gonna do it. But I mean really do it. Bana's got the moves. I hand wrote the moves. He's gonna go slow. It's gonna go slow and then it's gonna go good.
I'm gonna get pregnant.
Someone's gonna have a dream right about the time I'm getting pregnant with Bana's baby.
Someone's gonna text me "Are You Having Sex With Bana? I just dreamt you are pregnant with Bana's baby". I'm gonna get the text and I'm gonna say "yeah. Gotta go"
Bana's gonna grab the phone. He's gonna throw it away. He's gonna say "Pay attention. I've got something to say."
He's gonna choke up. He's gonna get choked up on a tear. Bana's gonna cry. He's gonna say "I wanna fucking marry you. I wanna fucking marry your ass"
I'm gonna say yes.
We're gonna do it again.
Then we're gonna get on a plane.
I'm gonna get married today.
I really mean it.
I mean I really mean it.

I Knew the King

Well, I met with the king on Saturday
And he said there'll be no more charity for the children
It came to me as quite a shock I must say
I was hoping he could hold out a little longer
But he had his eyes made up and he was sure as any

So I offered him my hand and just that
I had no ring or crown, but I had ten sticks to lick
He laughed at me and asked
What could I do with those
I did not take any offense but I scared him instead
I said,
You'll see if you give me a shot
And if you don't, you may come to regret it
He said I think I'm going to like you

We got on well, the king and I
I played the guitar and he smiled when he really liked one
We figured on the state and nation
We talked all night long into the cold early day
And in the small side room off the kitchen
He offered me the crown
He said I'm tired would you mind terribly
Taking over for a little while

Now anyone might have been very pleased
But I asked him to his face
Will you take it away
Will you just come by one afternoon
Sneak in to my closet
And take that thing back
Because I can already tell you're unsure
And I already know I'd grow quite accustom
To the comfort and the quill
So better to let me know early than late

He didn't say nothing
He looked a little weak
Like he might fall or something
So I didn't keep up with the conversation
I figured he needed his rest more than my questions
Maybe the drink got to him I thought
I don't know what came over me but I took the crown
Just put it in my pack and walked out

The very next day I tried to trade the thing
The pawn man just nodded his head
It's a fake, this cannot be the real deal
I will not argue with you man
But you may come to regret it I said
I tried my tricks but he had his eyes made up
So I shuffled out the door with my guitar in one hand
And the kingdom in the other

Next morning I woke up with a back ache
The thing kept me tossing all night
I started getting a little nervous
Started to get a little scared myself
But when my old friend showed up at the door
Asking for a coffee and a smoke
I knew we were alright and that
He understood what I was all about
Eventually, I got him to change his mind about the charity
He never offered the crown again
And that made me very happy

Gotta Leave Now

Misfits, rejects, honky tonk two step, jump back run away, barb wire, pay day
Not here, no how, figure on the red cow, Fridays coming soon, looking at a full moon
Tape deck, paints wet, talking to a red neck, five yards, three feet, copy cat a new key
Monkey see, I do, nothing new round here, same yard, bogart, babies in a shoppin cart
I'm not sure but I think it's getting dark
Gotta leave now cuz you're breaking my heart

Cool cats, fat jets, politicians romance, black tape, cry rape, nothing but a goat scape
Midnight, fur coat, got a fancy tug boat, big house, small dick, walkin with a cane stick
Pawn shop, grid lock, nanny's got a new top, two cents, white plains, everybody's insane
Fiddle string, alto, make yourself a freak show, get high, fall down, people love a white clown
I'm not sure but I think it's getting dark
Gotta leave now cuz you're breaking my heart

Angels, locale, everyone's a know how, big deal, ain't real, just another pin wheel
Go round, merry town, everyone's a blood hound, pink dress, miss step, I don't need an agent
Take ten, uptight, nothing but a knife fight, blue suit, bad smell, I can hear the toll bell
Get on, jump off, buy yourself a new scarf, cut through, make do, sing yourself a new tune
I'm not sure but I think it's getting dark
Gotta leave now cuz you're breaking my heart

Mariachi, girl bands, looking like a street stand, peacock, cheap sell, talking bout a wishin well
One time, shake show, costs about a kilo, momma take your hat off, daddy wants a blow job
Police, aimed guns, fugitive is on the run, back way, hide out, chief's is on the clock now
Give up, get dressed, put your hands above your head, sign here, sit down, better get your nose brown
I'm not sure but I think it's getting dark
Gotta leave now cuz you're breaking my heart

High noon, wood bench, California pavement, graveyard, cars parked, looking for a new start
Drunk men, steelers, hari krishna healers, hand outs, bomb shout, tell me what it's all about
Government, health care, Mr. Presidents here, talks right, looks good, doesn't do what he should
Global, wasteful, hope is for the hopeful, walkin to the station, looking for a reason
I'm not sure but I think it's getting dark
Gotta leave now, cuz you're breaking my heart

I Just Wanna Talk To You Boy

Man of the house
I just want to talk to you
I just want to talk to you
I just want to find out all about the facts simple false or true

I would like to talk to you
If you would not mind boy
If you would not mind takin
Up time of your minute
I've got a few things to say

There's a line that's been crossed
I'm not sure who drew it boy
But I'm positive it was not me
Then again, it may have been me
While I was sleeping

So let's get our stories straight
Who are you and are you you boy
Were you at the crime scene
Or did you send another fake
I would like to find out who I'm speaking with

Your new lady friend looks nice
She's the one that snitched boy
I didn't choose to find out this way
I'd like to find out if you are kind
Let me know how I should come prepared

She said you had some questions
And they weren't answered boy
They were swarming in your head
While you had us both in hotel rooms
Selling us both the same ridiculous fable

I don't want to scare you away
I realize you are still at heart a boy
And you cannot stand the conflict
You cannot stand the tears
So I won't make a big thing of all this

But I would like to mention
My very deep regret boy
You could have given me a sign
Some kind of direction so I could choose
But you were too caught up in your mirror to look

Let's say I still love you
Let's suppose I want you boy
We could talk about that too
It could set my mind at ease
But I'd need a little time to clean the sheets

Meet Me In The Morning

Meet me in the morning in California. I'll be there with a blue raincoat. I'll be waiting to hold you. If you don't come, I'll return the next day. If you never come, I'll write you letters. If you return those, I'll call. If you don't pick up, I'll fly to you. If you move your house, I'll check the book. If you take your name, I'll search. If you want none of this, I'll never understand.

Meet me in the morning in the bedroom. I'll be there with nothing on. I'll be waiting to love you.
If you don't come, I won't take another. If you never come, I'll hold your place. If you forget me and all my loving, I'll remember. If you turn cold to my touch, I'll warm your heart. If you replace me, I'll dream of you. If those dreams die, I'll never understand.

Meet me in the morning in the kitchen. I'll be there baking a pie. I'll be waiting to feed you.
If you don't come, I'll make another. If you never come, I'll save a slice. If your tastes have changed, I'll go to the market. If your belly is full, I'll take my time. If you cannot eat, I'll eat for you. If you don't want my home cooking, I'll never understand.

Meet me in the morning by the church bells. I'll be there wearing white. I'll be waiting to give to you. If you don't come, I'll pay the preacher to stay. If you never come, I won't send him away. If you won't stand beside me, I'll wear the ring. If your minds made up, I'll never understand

Don't Give The Devil Any Ideas

Well, you may dance around in your town like a ballerina on crack
Belting songs deep from your throat about Mr. Jill and Jack
While your eyes are busy spinnin lookin round at this and that

Don't give the devil any ideas

When the cigarettes you've been smokin taste so deaf dumb and flat
When the people you've been pokin for a philosophical chat
Send you off and out for battle with nothin but a bat

When your husband loses interest and your assets have been tapped
When the milk man seems to linger as you pour another glass
You may find yourself Temptation in a bizarre circus act

If you're scratchin at the front door for a warm welcome mat
And the home you once felt sweet in starts to taste of salt and rat
And your mind has drawn conclusions around distant future facts

When your mother seems to whimper like a Medieval cat
And your pa can't do nothin but lie down and take a nap
When your grandpa has been dead for too long to save your ass

When you cannot tell the difference between yellow, blue or black
When you switch around the stations looking for a new forecast
When you do not recognize your own face under a hat

If your pencils have gone nubby and your fingers cannot scratch
If your bark has lost it's biting and your mind becomes a trap
You may want to tie the noose around your neck like a cravat

If you've stumbled on a ticket that has no return address
And you think a plane will free you from the trials that have past
You may dance with the idea but it's a geographical mess

When the bank man keeps you strangled with a red rejection stamp
And the lawyers won't protect you when your enemies attack
When the idea of escape starts to resemble a track

Try to figure on surrender, god will give you if you ask
Humble pie can do you better than just actin' like a brat
And we all need our salvation when The Man comes with his axe

Don't give the devil any ideas

I'm Lovesick For You Tonight

I'm lovesick
I'm lovesick
I'm love sick for you tonight
Your words run through my mind
Like a tornado in the sky
I'm lovesick for you tonight

When you sat me down on that porch to talk
I didn't know you meant to take a walk
For good or bad
I can't say I'm glad
You cut me down

When you said you didn't know how to stay
I couldn't help but fade away
You're words were cold
And I should know
Better by now

I'm lovesick
I'm lovesick
I'm love sick for you tonight
Your words run through my mind
Like a tornado in the sky
I'm lovesick for you tonight

I begged the doctor for a pill or two
He said one day I'll get over you
But I don't believe
Anyway, I'd like to be
Well

I built a fire in my living room
With all the letters I got from you
But they would not burn
For more than an hour
Or two

I'm lovesick
I'm lovesick
I'm love sick for you tonight
Your words run through my mind
Like a tornado in the sky
I'm lovesick for you tonight

My friends told me I was being hard
On myself and taking this too far
But they don't understand
How very sick I am
Still

I tried to find another one, to care
Thought it could take my mind off you not being here
But he didn't walk right
And he talked too much
Just like you

I'm lovesick
I'm lovesick
I'm love sick for you tonight
Your words run through my mind
Like a tornado in the sky
I'm lovesick for you tonight

I made a visit to my congregation
Hoping they could help me with my occupation
But they shook their heads
Told me god is dead
I knew

When your sister took my brothers hand
I thought I had another chance
But just like then
You would not talk
Or feel

I'm lovesick
I'm lovesick
I'm love sick for you tonight
Your words run through my mind
Like a tornado in the sky
I'm lovesick for you tonight

I threw a party with many fancy guests
Then lost my ticket and I couldn't get in
So I stayed outside
Waiting for someone to come
But no one did

My blood is thinning and I'm getting weak
This time tomorrow I won't be able to speak
So don't ask my name
My head will fall
And roll

I'm lovesick
I'm lovesick
I'm love sick for you tonight
Your words run through my mind
Like a tornado in the sky
I'm lovesick for you tonight

I'm lovesick for you tonight
I'm lovesick for you tonight
I'm lovesick for you tonight
I'm lovesick for you tonight

I Will Turn My Face

I used to be an angel
Wide eyed and lovely
I used to sing
I used to believe
but now I'm nobody at all

I used to pray
Open mouthed and loud
I used to cry
I used to laugh
But now I'm nobody at all

I will turn my face
To another name
And no one will no me again
I will turn my face
To another name
You will not know me friend

I used to feel
Hard pressed and deep
I used to call
I used to write
But now I'm nobody at all

I used to think
Logically, metaphorically
I used to plan
I used to draw
But now I'm nobody at all

I will turn my face
To another name
And no one will no me again
I will turn my face
To another name
You will not know me friend
You will not know me friend