Saturday, August 24, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
north jersey
2013
(don mclean)
Starry
starry
night
Flaming flowers
Flaming flowers
that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colours changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's LOVING hand
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
dearly departed
cemetery
Marcellus, new york
(bruce springsteen)
On the road to Basra stood young Lieutenant Jimmy Bly
Detailed to go through the clothes of the soldiers who died
At night in dreams he sees their souls rise
Like dark geese into the Oklahoma skies
Detailed to go through the clothes of the soldiers who died
At night in dreams he sees their souls rise
Like dark geese into the Oklahoma skies
Well this is a prayer for the souls of the departed
Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted
This is a prayer for the souls of the departed
Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted
This is a prayer for the souls of the departed
Now Raphael Rodriguez was just seven years old
Shot down in a schoolyard by some East Compton Cholos
His mama cried "My beautiful boy is dead"
In the hills the self-made men just sighed and shook their heads
Shot down in a schoolyard by some East Compton Cholos
His mama cried "My beautiful boy is dead"
In the hills the self-made men just sighed and shook their heads
This is a prayer for the souls of the departed
Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted
Young lives over before they got started
This is a prayer for the souls of the departed
Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted
Young lives over before they got started
This is a prayer for the souls of the departed
Tonight as I tuck my own son in bed
All I can think of is what if it would've been him instead
I want to build me a wall so high nothing can burn it down
Right here on my own piece of dirty ground
All I can think of is what if it would've been him instead
I want to build me a wall so high nothing can burn it down
Right here on my own piece of dirty ground
Now I ply my trade in the land of king dollar
Where you get paid and your silence passes as honor
And all the hatred and dirty little lies
Been written off the books and into decent men's eyes
Where you get paid and your silence passes as honor
And all the hatred and dirty little lies
Been written off the books and into decent men's eyes
Sunday, August 4, 2013
sunny florida road
(bruce springsteen)
At sixteen she quit high school to make her fortune in the promised land
She got a job behind the counter in an all night hamburger stand
She wrote faithfully home to mama
Now mama don't you worry none
From small things, mama
Big things one day come
It was late one Friday he pulled in out of the dark
He was tall and handsome; first she took his order, then she took his heart
They bought a house up on the hillside
Where little feet soon would run
From small things, mama
Big things one day come
Oh but love is fleeting
it's sad but true
But when your heart is beating
You don't wanna hear the news
She packed her bags:and with a Wyomie County real estate man
She ran down to Tampa
In an El Dorado Grande
She wrote back home
Dear Mama
Life is just heaven in the sun
From small things, mama
Big things one day come
Well she shot him dead
On a sunny Florida road
When they caught her all she said
Was she couldn't stand the way he drove
Back home lonesome Johnny
Prays for his baby's parole
He waits on the hillside
Where the Wyomie waters roll
At his feet and almost grown now
A blue-eyed daughter and a handsome son
Well from small things, mama
Big things one day come
Well from small things, mama
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
MORE MAIL-ART I've sent
saint petersburg,
florida
MONICA
(Dan Bern)
I remember Monica
At the US Open
She might have been sixteen
Couldn't have been much more
Answering some questions and giggling
I'd never seen
Someone so alive on TV before
Do you remember Monica
shrieking on her backhand
Disguising herself when she went out at night?
Coloring her hair
Like something was telling her
Stay low, invisible
And out of sight
And then, Monica
The blade came, Monica
Like God spitting on you
A knife in your back
We read it in the paper
And moved on to other things
But for you all the colors
Fade to black
And oh, Monica
There you are, Monica
On the cross with Jesus
And Martin Luther King
Just like John Lennon by that hotel
You have to pay for our sins
Was it like being raped?
Was it like being dead?
Like a bad movie over and over again?
Then did everyone who came close to you
Suddenly hold a knife in their hand?
And now, you're back, Monica
Grim and hammering
Trying not to think about that thing then
I hope that you win every medal you can win
But it may never be much fun again
And oh, Monica
There you are, Monica
On the cross with Jesus
And Martin Luther King
Just like John Lennon by that hotel
You have to pay for our sins
Just like Jesus by that hotel
You have to pay for our sins
Friday, June 28, 2013
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