Friday, October 16, 2009

Piano Man Trill

Oooo, I love dat piana music!!
    It trills me so!
I just love dat piana music,
    cause it trills me dat way.
I gotta find dat man
    Who plays the piana
      gotta find him today!

Ooooh, I gotta get outta dis box!
    Gotta climb, push push
I gotta find dat piana man
    Today! I’m in a rush!
Gonna climb up outta dis box
      and find dat hot piana man!

It ain’t as easy as I thought
    gettin’ outta dis ole heavy box
It ain’t as easy as I thought
    specially wid da rockin’ box
I’m gonna have da blues
      If I can’t find dat man I want!

Oooh, looka me now, bare legs
    I better scramble ‘round and dress
Oooh, nuthin’ but panties have I got on
    better find me a dress to wear
I’m gonna have da blues
      if I can’t win dat man I want!

Oooh, I love dat piana music
    don’t care if it play loud or soft
Ooooh, I LOVE dat piana music
    makes me feel sassy and soft
I gotta find dat piana man soon
      and he better not refuse.

I got some new hair,   it was so thin --
    been in that box so long
And some lipstick too, nice and red
    Red hair and a green dress?
How could I go wrong
      Gettin’ in Piana Man’s head?

Oooh, how I vamped dat piana man,
    made him like me n’ awful lot.
I danced all ‘round dat piana man,
    and he acted like he was besot.
One time my legs ran outta juice
      ooh, he rubbed ‘em wid his hand

Ooh, but dat piana man was playein’ me
    he played me for a fool.
He played da piana for me fine
    ‘n twirled me lakka piana stool.
I fell for him hard, but I was soft
      dat man must think I’m blind.

He took me out to dinner,
    It was a very ‘spensive place
I got all dressed up in red
    And all he did was make a face
He made awful wid me
      Oh you shoulda heard the things he said!

Den when dinner was all over
    and our napkins was all soiled
Dat’s when he told me about his new girl
    only she was his before. It spoiled
The nicest thing he’s did for me!
      Oooh, den dat man ran off with a Belle

But I’m gettin’ over dat piana man,
    I lissen to saxaphone now,
Or gimme a guitar to lissen to
    I ain’t taking no 88s again
Dat piana man played MY keys ‘n chords
      Da verry las’ time. Dat’s true!

Oh, I gotta admit da real truf,
    I still got a high note for dat man,
But I’m learnin’ to get along widdout him
    Just see if I don’t! Oooh,
But I love dat piana music
      an’ it still trills me like it did.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

      No Blood Left

My life's blood is all drained out;
  Bones of my experience been bleached white;
My soul may never catch on fire again,
  so where shall I go, Honey, and when?
Trying to sing the blues in a minor key,
  but my voice is corrupted with that damn center C.
Show me how to sing blues, Honey, and tell me when.

Spring is here but the sap won't rise,
  Dead tree in the morning, can't open my eyes.
My heart needs to find a forest fire,
  but where shall I go for a light, and why?
I wish I weren't singing blues in a lonesome tone,
  and my voice deceives me with a note of hope,
But how can I sing happy, Honey, ever again?

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

    Loco Motive Past Relay

Rocks tumbling, rails streaming far ahead
    'round the bend, and over a trestle;
I'm walkin' the ties to Tennessee
    'just seven hundred eighty-two miles.
Rails rumblin', better jump off the tracks. Quick!
Feet stumblin' on those chunky rocks; but...
Got to walk the ties to Tennessee.

Spikes broken, rails gleaming, I'm leanin' forward
    'round another bend, past the high trestle;
Been walkin long miles to Tennessee.
    What I thought he said don't mean nothin' now.
Whistle blowin', better turn 'round and look.
Feet slowin' on these dang'rous rocks; I just
Gotta keep walkin' toward Tennessee.

Creosote smellin', rails stayin' apart;
    looks like they will meet a mile ahead,
But get there and they're still separated.
    Don't know what the hell I'm doin'.
Cold rails polished hot by turnin' wheels;
I can't turn around so I just keep goin'--
Gotta try to get to Tennessee.

Fox barkin', rails trailin' behind like anchors --
    no bends, and no trestles anymore,
Chasin' footsteps long gone to Tennessee.
    Don't know why I'm going. Naw, I don't.
Moon hidden, wind rising, can't hear worth a damn.
Rails been ridden a hundred times over
Since he said "I'm walkin' out, back to Tennessee."

Sunday, April 19, 2009


I thought a garden had been planted,
    that the bed of seedlings would grow strong.
I thought the path we traveled artless and by nature,
    that we could find our way blindfolded.
I knew the road was rocky,
    But I thought it could be paved, and lead somewhere.
When I felt that I was drowning,
    I thought I could be saved by just breathing air with you.

      Should you live your life supposing
      That things will always go your own way?
      Can’t you try to have some patience,
      To live the way you feel you must?

I thought that garden was well planted; but
    Then seedlings sprouted, and seemed dead.
Hah! I thought the path was marked; but then a storm came --
    A tree fell over and blocked the way.
I even thought the concrete paving of the rocky road was ready --
    I started driving -- then, without a sign, it ended. Dead.
I was sure I couldn’t drown, so I splashed in happy shallows,
    Then a hidden wave pulled me under to the deep.

      So should you live your life supposing
      Things always are disintegrating?
      Can’t you try to have some patience,
      While living in a way that you can trust?

That garden that I thought was dead or dying,
    came alive with just our laughter;
The path, with dragging limbs obstructing,
    seemed better hidden -- with its secrets;
That unsettling violent road just wanted us to map it;
And when I thought that I was drowning, and
    floundered in unaccustomed depths,
    You threw me a kiss that saved me, spoke kind words that pulled me out.

      From now on I'll not live my life supposing
      That things will always go along the way I plan;
      That’s why I bid Impatience to allow Adventure
      So I can live the way I know I must.
            (14 days later...)

That garden that died then came alive?
    Well it was killed at last by an early frost;
Smudge pots and glass frames and sunshine
    couldn't bring it back to life. Frost kills.
The path has been obliterated, its secrets
    turned out to be pitfalls and traps;
That violent road couldn't be mapped, it buckled, too weak;
At last I knew I was drowning when I couldn't draw a breath.
    This time there were no heartfelt words, no blown kisses.
    All I could hear was wailing from my own grey ghost.

      From now on I'll stop supposing, stop hoping.
      Things go the way they will, you can't interfere.
      Oh I can tell impatience to allow Adventure,
      But I will live like I used to from now on, and
      I'll cross another desert, then another, 'til the end.