Rude Awakenings

RUDE AWAKENINGS

Oh dear! … Oh dear! … In spades!
I wish I’d proofread that
before I posted it …
The story of my life!

Chores

CHORES

This afternoon
I have to walk into town

First it’s to the dentists
To tell them she won’t
Need that appointment now

Then to the post office
To mail off the form
Removing her from the
Electoral roll

Fortunately it’s sunny and dry

It’s two weeks tomorrow

Indigestion

INDIGESTION

Forgot consequence
And it repeated on me
Something terrible

Dust

DUST

So much, oh so much
Sits here on the shelf
Mainly gathering dust now

We gathered so much
For we were earning so much
Neither driving nor drinking

Let us buy music we thought
Not only does it move the heart
But is still around in the morning

Uninvited years now come and gone
Leave no one left to blame for that
Least of all all this clogging dust

The Next (Goose) Step

THE NEXT (GOOSE) STEP

The “top” one per cent
Terrified, naturally
Of those they exploit

Their diagnosis?
Organised supervision
i.e.: police state

Memory Lane

MEMORY LANE

I quite like
revisiting
ancient haunts;

lightly caressing
the memories evoked.

I learnt long ago
the foolishness
of regret,

of expectation
or disappointment.

Pretty Boy Blind (A Four By Six)

PRETTY BOY BLIND

She is available
You’re irresistible
You don’t see a problem
And just there’s your problem

Regrets

REGRETS

I can’t recall anyone
I didn’t disappoint in some way
Apart from the ones
Who couldn’t care less about me
In the first place

Untribal

UNTRIBAL

Some there are who live in touch
With both heart and mind
Others it seems
Less so

One Genius Song

Road Ode – Loudon Wainwright III

This is the opening track from “Career Moves”, a live album recorded in 1993. One of the best live album I know. If this song doesn’t get you laughing, shaking your head in admiration and wonder (and maybe even dancing) you can’t have been paying attention. 😉 I strongly suggest you get hold of the album and learn to love the whole thing. This track is only one of its highlights.

…..
…..
(On the road again,
Paying my back taxes, road again)

Well you walk into the room and switch on the TV,
And there’s Phil Donahue or Oprah Winfrey,
And suddenly you don’t feel so lonely.
Even though you’re out on the road.
Open up the drawer and there’s that bible,
God’s honest truth, but you’re not liable to use it you prefer myth and libel.
That’s ’cause you’re out on the road.
There’s baby shampoo, no you’re not snobby,
Losing your toothbrush is your hobby.
Lucky they sell that stuff in the lobby.
Lucky that you’re out on the road.

Out on the road, out on the road.
You’re Willy Lowman, and you’re Tom Jode.
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan.
Out on the road, out on the road.
“Keep on going” is your creed and code.
It’s a different way of life, it’s a whole other mode.
Living out on the road.

Well you’re packin’ ’em in so we did ok,
But the people from the record company didn’t pay.
So there’s no percentage, though it looks that way.
Man, it’s funny when you’re out on the road.
It’s your fault, you didn’t draw,
There was a item in the paper that nobody saw.
When business is bad then there ought to be a law against you out on the road.
There’s people to avoid, places to miss.
Backstage access, who need this?
The club is a toilet when you gotta take a piss in the sink when you’re out on the road.

Out on the road, out on the road.
You’re Willy Lowman, and you’re Tom Jode.
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan.
Out on the road, out on the road.
That’s where your wild oats where sowed.
You start out a prince and you end up a toad.
Living out on the road.

Room service is a trick, rarely a treat.
So you go for a bite that can’t be beat,
But how many patty melts can one man eat when he’s eating out on the road?
A cat eats a fish, a dog eats a bone,
Out on the road, a man eats alone,
Time to reflect and to atone for his sins out on the road.
Runnin’ through airports at 43 is ok for OJ but it’s not for me,
With a hernia, a bad back and a bum knee and a guitar out on the road.

Out on the road, out on the road.
You’re Willy Lowman, and you’re Tom Jode.
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan.
Out on the road, out on the road.
The flight’s been cancelled, you shoulda knowed,
The airport is your new abode.
Living out on the road.

(Let’s go!)

When it’s time to come back to reality, you’re roadsick and you’re half crazy,
So you fit right in quite naturally, home from out on the road.
Back to see family and friends, and to face the music and to make amends,
But coming up for air, you can get the bends,
In from out on the road.
Open that bag, go on, expose it,
Open that window, hold you nose, it’s eight weeks worth of dirty clothes.
In from out on the road.

Willy Nelson has a bus, and a sound man he can kick and cuss, and a road manager to make a fuss,
Willy goes out on the road.
A roadie carries his guitar, and in that bus is a VCR, well Willy deserves it, he’s a big old star,
Willy goes out on the road.
So Willy goes out for weeks at a time, makes a ton of money, it’s a life sublime,
But for me it’s punishment and crime. Why do I go out on the road?

Out on the road, out on the road.
I’m not Willy Nelson, I’m Tom Jode.
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan.
Out on the road, out on the road.
“Keep on going” is your creed and code.
But if you keep on going, you’re going to explode.
Living out on the road.