Sunday Letters

A long long time ago,
I can still remember,
How that musing used to make me smile,
And I knew if I had my chance,
That I would make those people glance,
And maybe they'll be happy for awhile,
But February made me shiver,
With every paper I deliver,
Bad news on the doorstep,
I couldn't take one more step.

I can't remember if I cried,
When I read about his widowed bride,
Something touched me deep inside,
The day,
The musing,
Died.

So why why, did the weather went dry,
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry,
Them good old boys,
Were being frisky,
And ripe,
Singing this will be the day that I die,
This will be the day that I die.

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
Ain't it vital
I tell you so.

Hun, do you believe in rock & roll,
Cause music, can't save your model soul,
And can you teach me how to drive,
Like a pro.

Babe, I know that you are getting slim,
Cause I saw you standing in the gym,
You kicked off them old shoes,
And you wore them strapped up and new,

I was a lonely teenage hockey puck,
Worked the small gas station and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck,
The day,
The musing died.

I started thinking.

Why why why, when the weather was dry,
Joined the Navy for my daddy,
But my daddy was high,
Them good old boys,
Stopped drinking whisky,
And rhymed,
And singing this will be the day that I die,
This will be the day that I die.

Now for ten years,
We've been on our own,
As moss rolls fat on a rolling stone,
But,
That's not how it turned out to be.

When the jester ran,
For the king and queen,
And the coat you borrowed from the keen,
And the choice that came,
On you and me.

And while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his party crown,
The courtroom was adjourned,
No verdict was returned.

And while felons read a book on Mars,
The puppet studied with the stars,
And we sang dirges in the dark,
The day,
The musing died.

We'd be singing,

Lie lie, Miss American High,
Chose your hubby from your mummy,
But your mummy ain't fine,
And good old boys,
Were watching TV and whined,
Thinking this will be the day that I try,
This will be the day that I try.

Helped her, dealt her,
In a summer sweater,
Birds flew off,
From a fallout shelter,
Aging tiles,
And brocade glass.

And land a foul out on the grass,
The players tried for a risky pass,
With the jester on the sidelines,
In a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume,
While speakers played a classic tune,
We all got into the trance,
But we never liked to dance,

Thus the lawyers try to take the field,
The marching man refuse to yield,
Do you recall what was revealed,
The day,
The musing died

We started swinging,

Bye bye, mist and nights full of sky,
Shove my baby to a lady,
But the lady was mine,
Them bad old boys,
Were faking grieving,
And pined,
This will be the day that I shine,
This will be the day, I shine.

And there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space,
With no time left,
'Cept for our face.

So come on, Back-Is-Nimble,
Track-Field-Quick,
Flare flash burned off the candlestick,
Ain't fire the devil's only friend.

Oh, and as I watch the marble stage,
My hands were clenched in fists of rage,
No angel here can tell,
Can make this sorta spell.

And as the plane climbs high,
Into the night,
To light the sacrificial right,
I saw Satan laughing with delight,
The day,
The musing died.

He was singing,

Why, why, why, are you people so blind,
All so savvy yet so daffy,
And the bevy was tight,
Them good old boys,
Would come home early
At ninine,
Singing,
Nigh are still the days that I cry,
This would be the day that I die.

I met a girl who painted hues,
And I asked her if I paid my dues,
She just smiled,
And flew away.

I locked up all my sacred doors,
Where the musing played again once more,
But the fan there sneered the notion
Wouldn't fade.

And in the streets,
The children streamed,
The dove could cry,
In a poet's dream,
But not a word was spoken,
The merged hell then, now broken.

And the free men turned into a ghost,
Of mother, nuns and morning toast,
They've all set out for the most,
The day,
The musing...

Died.

My Protheusly Proper Jane

Elope with me, Miss Private,
And we'll sail around the world,
I will be your Magellan,
And you my landlocked girl,
How many nights of talking in hotel rooms,
Can you take,
How many nights of limping around,
On pagan holidays,
Oh elope with me in private,
And we'll set something ablaze,
A trail for the devil to erase.

Some friends ceased on calling us,
They joust and net the play,
The hearts and rods might catch you,
Are you straight or are you gay,
The hungabouts at stadiums,
Whose got no place to stay,
We hung about the tender lawn,
And tenderly you tell,
About the saddest book you ever read,
It always makes you cry,
The statues cry,
Until a woolly May.

I love you,
I've a drowning grip,
On your adoring face,
I love you,
My responsibility has found a place,
Beside you were once a morning,
Superseded witty words,
Come wave upon me,
From your family,
I don't find absurd
"You'll take care of her,
I know it,
You would do a better job"
Maybe,
But not what you deserve.

Elope with me, Miss Private,
And we'll drink ourselves awake,
We'll rob the coffee houses,
And award certificates,
The Navy Seal,
To keep the feel,
Of 1960's stars.
We'll call men on the decor,
And we'll help the passing cars,
When the desk of work is over,
We'll continue the debate,
In that borrowed bedroom,
Virginal and spare.

They fetch her round at 3.18,
They fetch her everyday,
The hitcher puts religion first,
And rest on holidays,
He goes into his riddles,
And lies prostrate on the floor,
He knows the drink,
Affects his speed,
His praying for a door,
Way back into the life he wants,
Without confession on the bench,
Life outside the iron,
Is a drench.

I wish that you were here with me,
To pass the dull weekend,
I know he couldn't come to love,
My heroine pretend,
A lady stepping from a song,
We love until this day,
She settled on a photograph,
Like Toulouse and his dame,
The sun upon the riff in winter,
Will draw you out like a flower,
I'll meet you at the statue in an hour.

I'll meet you at the statue in an hour...

Tokyo Running/The Secret Word Is

I'd like to see you,
I had a funny dream
And you were wearing funny shoes,
You were going to a dance,
You were dressed for the funk,
But you were too young to remember.

I'm happy for you,
But now I know this hurt,
Is boysenberry,
Too much to be bland,
I'm sitting in my empty shed,
I'm in my empty shed
And the door desist it's pounding,
Pounding,
Pounding.

Rather run to Tokyo,
And drive a geezer for the radio,
Watch a Sunday gang in hybrid whims,
Is there something wrong with me,
Or the guru?

Scary notion,
I'm loving every moment,
I was high from playing shows,
The loss of skin,
Into half clothes,
My trouble raised it's wobbly head,
Watching a filter now,
Was I hung in bed,
Or just at it again.

Did Jesus told thee,
To go out in every corner,
Like it's the last turn in the world,
So I'll take away one child,
You're the little lost sheep,
You need your Bo Peep,
Cause you hate the shepherd here, that's right?

Waking up in misery,
I see the wilderness for you and me,
Punctuated by philosophy,
I'm wondering how things could've been.

I'd like to see you,
But really I should stay awake,
And let you settle down,
I got no claims to your crown,
I had the boxer view,
Doesn't mean I love you,
Oh you know I loved you,
But it's over now.

And I was there for you,
When you were lonely,
I was there when you were fat,
I was there when you were sad,
There was the time and need,
I'm thinking,
Do I have to grin to get you by my side.

I'd rather sleep in barrios,
And try to glisten all my videos,
And watch the prancing man,
In hyper voodoo,
There's something wrong with me,
Or the house loo?


---

It was pretty bright,
Upon the death row bridge tonight,
I can see you into your window,
Although you're far away.

You were racing in a car,
Beside a boy you just don't know,
If he is a fool,
Like what you had in mind,
If he is a fool,
What you have in mind?

Changes on the cards,
But in time there will be hearts,
I would never deceive you,
We've never had the right.

You should never spare the poem,
You should never spare the tongue,
I wish I had two,
As I would follow,
I write the ending,
With sense and tomorrow.

I am a ceiling grand,
Just like you, a sitting man,
And I would wrap my arms around you,
Cause I know there will be fire.

We gotta fight to save our friends,
We didn't get wet,
We're still not dead,
Our aspiration,
All locked up in books,
Our innovations,
All hidden in looks.

Summer tasted off,
I am trying to get a feeling wrong,
To a city unfaithful,
I've been traveling abroad.

We gotta find our sea affair,
We couldn't get wet,
We didn't dare.

But the fantasy remains,
You better come back to earth again,
Our inspiration,
Guilty as crooks,
Our invocations,
Fortified rooks.

30 Years Young

It's funny how loving you is the greatest thing,
I get to be myself and I get to sing,
I get to be a bane and irresponsible,
I come home late,
And devour your soul,
I never forget you in my prayers,
I'm sorry I had a panic doing waltz.

You're my feature in the fall,
Apparition in the hall,
You're the one I'm walking to,
When I get into my jerks,
You are my covenant,
You don't even know it,
I am living up the life of a poet,
I am the gesture in the aching cold,
And you're the jumpy little frog on my doorway.

My eye sights fading,
And my hearing's dim,
I've been getting shot,
With the state I'm in,
I'm endangering myself,
I've been stuck in flights,
From the pansies and their guards,
On the Saturday nights.
But please don't be disapproving with my girl,
She gets all lightheaded when she's gold.

You're my seizure in a mall,
You're my visions by the wall,
You're the one I'm talking to,
When I laze around at work,
You're so blur,
That you don't even show it.
I am living in the life of a hermit,
A tired master in the times of old,
And you're my charming little servant in the torrid.

Hurried conversations with you at night,
Cause the little one cries, but that's alright,
I tell you in the kitchen,
About my day,
Soon the bed lies in the darkest of places,
With the ghost that was there before you were queen,
You've come to save my life, I mean

I don't dare to touch your hand,
I don't dare to think of you,
In a biological command,
I wouldn't know what size you grew,
You are the cover on my magazine,
You're my fascist trip, a living museum,
I'd pay to visit you on rainy Sundays,
And maybe tell you all about it someday.....

January River

6:52 in the lights of the dusk,
You were making those juices,
Making a fuss,
Of the angels in white robes,
And detoxed stethoscopes,
You echo the silence,
The neck of the violence.

The man or the woman,
In white black suit,
Wings so fine,
They take daughters,
And maybe your mind,

And the uncertainty,
Drove you far to the sea,
Buying blankets for no one,
That no one would buy,
Ask the man on the tall chair,
He knows what he's trying to do.

It's the river, it's spring and it's painful,
The beached and the sinned,
The righteous and doubtful,
The way that they summon the walls to the roads,
Oh the biggest road ever,
To pave off the coasts.

The suited females,
With long-beaked precisions,
And odd indecisions,
Easy as deafness,

The God with a two kilometre,
Circumspecting width,
His glaze is a gift,
He was black to begin with,
And now he's copper tin.

The city of God,
Forgot nothing to,
The art of a fight,
The art of a ten-buck two,
Impoverished feelings,
Impoverished dues,
You live life on the ceiling,
The floor's too festooned,
With money and goons.

And you walk on the bridge,
Of troubled rapids,
You walk on the sides,
To make sure you've had it.

And no you're just nine,
You've had your ins and out,
But your out all the time,
Is mother really waiting,
It's ten o'clock nine now,
Does anyone gives a damn?

The portent of humidity,
The loss of a sanctified community,
The linings in clothes of the grievance,
You wear it with pride, and you stroke it all night,
To the minute of forgetting sons,
Yeah the suited man took him with lack of guns.

And these January rivers,
With weary inked eyes,
They'd sell your their fruits,
And they'd sell you their wives,
Like a pagan in Vatican,
A road in Mongolia,
You should've asked em,
Instead I would see ya,
In rags or a bag of incense.

Underwater surprises,
Surprising demands,
They said man we're just trying to clean,
But without the mop you're a fiend,
Everyone's money,
And money is none,
So the math of it's scary,
And not the least fun,
In the stuttering view of a nun,
Under the crime of not owning a gun.

Your daughter is home,
At last,
A fever or spots,
And torturing gasps,
She's just whiter than ever before,
The pram took her ego and more,
Chained to machines,
Clinically deceased and clean.

Sleepless nights,
Sleepless vigil,
Stream of lights,
Stream of a kill,
Walk the streets,
Money in mind,
Again I think that would be find,
But we're driving off the main road again,
Too much lighting, too few of a trance.

How can such a river so still,
Hide a home of a murderer's chill.

Iron Gondola

Sit on your floor baby,
Cut it nice now,
Don't leave it out,
For the wolves to hide now.

Shave off all of the debris,
Leave the part that's got sheen,
Pink plastic Jesus,
Dashboard pristine.

Types of adhesive,
Myriad of sedatives,
Sleep in the eye of,
Flying like a black dove.

Call me up,
Call me out,
Fluorescent teenagers,
Murdered baby cubs.

Shoot him with my left hand,
Grab him with my right,
Santa doesn't come early,
His gifts were stolen nights.

Time refuse to comply,
Time don't give a shit,
It was perfect, it was punk,
But now it's just awful.

Pig for a pig's blood,
Blood for a pig,
Hold it to the reckless radio,
Static pouring shtick.

Valley of the Chevvy,
Road full of aedes,
Cross my mind,
Crossing arms,
The way you took him by the guns.

Mama said your eyes are cold,
Your eyes are blue, they're getting old,
Soon will turn to scarlet red,
Like the sun that never sets.

Profusely bleeding,
Profusely loved,
Profusely needing,
Profusely shoved.

Girders weak under the bad man's sneakers,
Pouring rain on all the weepers,
Kings and Queens with yellow crepe papers,
Chaperones and limelight teachers.

Leave before the lightbulb flickers,
A glimpse of faith,
A glimpse of snicker,
You don't wanna see what you've barely done.

I wanna see beyond the seer,
The pulchritude,
I ignored so dear.
You said it like a Democrat,
And checked me like a Siamese Cat.

A battery that never works,
A scenery that never stirs,
A working class of battered eels,
A slur of times you've seen the reeds.

Banana, apple,
Maybe lilies,
The fruit of nets,
The fruition needies.

A monoxidal beauty,
A gasoline affinity,
I saw your platforms fell apart,
Inside the bus, inside my heart.

The modern way, the modern scales,
The modern tabs, the modern ail,
Cursing the man that works the rails,
Don't be too happy, don't be too stale.

To cry and tell a lovely joke,
A watery knife, on blithering stoves,
The mother whets the sword of sin,
The daughter weeps the hole within.

A cocaine stare,
And marijuana hair,
The mirrorman,
The fountain wares.

You wanna know how much I love,
The way you burn the petrol cove,
Like cyanide but coloured you,
A face, a smile,
A hug or two.

Your high brow,
Anti-tobacco,
Marxist ways,
The way try to stop the haze.

A lost child in unpleasant sickening yellow.
Sickening, blistering yellow,
The banker asked her,
Where's your mum,
She left me for,
A shilling and a dollar.

In,
Out,
Work,
In,
Out,
Home,
In,
Out,
Death,
In,
Out,
Up,
Down,

Or up?

--

Fading off the carpets,
And dirty little monsters,
Under your beds,
Are now on it,

And now she's saying

The TV is a cuckold,
Your husband is a trucker,
It gets more entertaining,
The way she died.

Pink plastic Jesus,
Dirty on the dashboard,
Panoply adhesives,
And make-up drawers.

Frugal as fluorescent,
Dubious adolescence,
Dancing like a drunk bee,
All the way to Borstal.

We all say,
The ones we sate and love,
We all say,
That we'll never have enough,
The modern way is the only way to buff,
Oh, the 20th century move,
Is nothing special.

Sunday was a church day,
The day they burn the churches,
Setting souls on ire,
The slave of all desires.

But then mother was an atheist,
And now she's just a feminist,
The way she changed the lightbulb,
And never got down.

And he said,

The arson doesn't know who,
Or what he's trying to kill,
He's burning copper nickels,
An archetype marks.

We all change,
The ones we sate and love,
We all change,
All the things we've had enough,
The new waves just a ripple in the dust,
Oh, the 21st century moon,
Is nothing legal.

The butterflies are smog-stained,
The caterpillars last brain,
Climbing Eiffel towers,
To get to Spain.

The desert is a moron,
Marijuana ism,
The day when I was nothing,
We smoked a win.

Castle alabaster,
Imagination pageant,
When will they land here,
Guess it's not tonight.

Childhood in the pits,
Growing up a fit,
Charcoal on my fa-ace,
Sparkled fiends.

Titanium or clay,
There's nothing much to say,
They all apply the same thing,
For building walls.

We all pay,
The ones that sate and love,
We all pay,
A shilling for a dove,

Mother,
Don't say a word,
Just an endless drone of fears,
Artless marks indent by tears.

He told me that,
Heaven sakes,
Was just a lover's way to go,
And you know I didn't have that with you.

You taught me God,
You taught me how to cook,
But then a single word,
Also taught me how to look.

Billy's waiting down the valley of cars,
Isn't it peculiar,
That under the stars,
We're the only ones here.

Where have all the people go?
Has Satan made a covenant,
Cause I feel nothing.

Marijuana mischief,
In the pockets of a man,
And the leavings of his band,
You thought mean it,
But you didn't understand.

Yeah punk was great,
Punk was a liberal,
And then you came,
And made it considerable.

Now I feeling of a smoke machine,
The same way you taught me the way to run a fifteen,
I thought it was clean,
You know what I mean.

Black dress baby,
Black all the way, baby,
Cut my eyes and make it a writ,
From these balls of cottontails,
And you saved me,
Well I stay ail,
You got my tongue,
In a radio static rung.

Controlled makers of the gun.

Cycling down the trees of Alaska,
Maybe someday it will get better,
Weather I don't see whether,
Any angry manner,
Might get us helter-skelter.

And you partied to the times of fortissimo,
The patrol boy gave you a ticket,
You said,
Darling, let it go.

You don't remember,
The names will still,
Be written in black and blue,
And maybe concrete.

But then the lighting suspiciously,
Turn to a hue of the same one before,
When something came out,
Something you love and adore.

Fluorescent mister,
That's what it is,
The cocaine eyes,
The monotone mist.

From the beams of a girder,
Too greasy for a murder,
Rains a blood of bovines,
On the rulers of the parquet floor.

The man in the gondola shakes his tiller,
The moon is gone,
They're only fillers.

The glow in her cummerbund,
Under her dad's dinner jacket,
Throws off a friend,
And it caused us a racket

I'm the janitor,
It makes you wanna come to this place,
Of a wonderful real estate,
Cause I'm the realtor,
And every single shingle is one plus another,
It's like you're the mother,

Of all the six kinds of glue,
I don't know you,
I don't really know how to,
So if you go for awhile,
I would see a trail of a pouring static.

A master of efforts,
Or lacking too much of it,
The stand up indecisive moment,
Where you don't give a shit,
About the Eiffel Tower,
And the pink plastic Jesus,
On your dashboard,
The tape won't work it tonight.

A tornado at hit,
In the eye of a fit,
You get your guns rewired,
And the stark rehired,
To the point of wonderful blandness,
And you go pass all your shucks.

Fluorescent Bamboo

Take me to Hollywood,
Take me to anywhere,
Counter the silent type,
I'll make it to anywhere,
And you were my stereotype,
Throbbed in dispute,
And you were my secret light,
When I'm stuck in room,
41,
1,2,4, Your the sand I deplore,
It's okay to like,
Marmalade nights,
Chipping off,
The new iron maiden,
Cigarettes and booze.

Take me to real estates,
Fountains and all,
Sunshining up your ass,
And every intone,
Nation, it's like there an 80's son of a gun,
Cut me a road,
I'll sing a sonnet,
For the sad,
Seventeen lines,
Seventeen ways to die,
To learn how to cry.

Take me to shipperies,
Take me to sail,
One hell of a whale,
Has got me into his gale,
Cause you are my girl,
And exit this world,
Through doors I can't taste,
You won't be assumed,
By all that is gloom,
But they'll think of you anyway.

Take me back to the subway,
Dances of broken Jesus,
Chains on the right,
Smiles to the left,
And maybe you see it too,
Can't relate,
The stories I have relate,
But I can't be writ-,
Ing everything I've loved,
From someone above.

Take me to see the circus,
Wherever that maybe,
Take me to contortionist,
And horses that waltz,
Mouses that talk,
Roses that stalk,
Your every living day,
You call me by name,
You took me by same,
And yet a fog.

Take me today,
Leave me tomorrow,
And we'll make our ways,
To New York City,
Or maybe Dubai,
In the sees of kaleidoscopic eyes,
You could see me lie.

Take me to Hollywood,
Bloods in the rain,
I counted your pain,
I defaced the paint,
And make it my own,
You can't really blame,
The one that got tamed,
They really is wild,
But I can't define,
Between the dames.

I climb another tree,
I steal another bee,
Hive,
And chase another another cay,
Ultimatum Sue,
You are what you do,
And not what you say.

Caught me in distant radon,
And give me back seeded Gaston,
The ships don't complain,
So why would the trains?
Be the same,
I'll see you tonight,
Tonight,

Today.