Punk Blues

I never had a voice to lose so I still sing my songs every afternoon before I go to work
the concrete wall's a good listener sometimes I think I'm Bob Dylan
the concrete wall never asks me for my autograph
so sometimes I just sit and stare and end up smoking rope
I get to thinking what's life worth living for
then I turn on the TV and see something cool
it might be a long touchdown pass it might be an old Al Pacino movie
it really isn't all that bad if you don't expect too much
if you expect too much you're just a greedy bastard

Jeff Tweedy

ran into a guy in high school
that could play and sing and write
like he was fifty years older than he was
annoyed him for years
until the guy couldn't work with him anymore
(drinking too much
not drinking enough
being himself
gaining confidence)
took the rest of the band and hired a musician
that could turn his little songs
and Woody Guthrie's (the best words he ever wrote)
into more than they were or could have been
got pissed off at him
fired him
hired someone else in the same vein
and became a geniuses

Jack Kerouac

I was just passing through and stopped in a graveyard to smoke a joint stretch my legs look around and take a piss
the night before I was lost on the South Dakota border and ended up in a bar in Iowa being ignored by pretty women
my grandmother was dying the whole family was on their way to a town outside Madison I hate to fly so I was driving
the backroads 'cause you can't see anything on the highway
the day before I stood on a hill overlooking the Missouri river and watched an old man fly fish for about fifteen minutes he didn't catch anything and I was looking for something that's hard to define
it might have been the half-finished statue of Crazy Horse in the Black Hills that I didn't have time to check out
if I ever get back that way it might be finished but it won't be the same
I'm not looking much anymore I guess I found it and lost some stuff too along the way
but way back then while I switched from the joint to a cigarette
I looked at a headstone that read
Amy York April 9 1877 November 23 1899 a devoted wife and mother
I thought about her kids and those long winters that never end up here
I bet they were looking a long time for something that was hard to define if they ever did

The Little Woody

I was running out of magic
outside a wanna-be dive bar
listening to semi-bad folk rock
through the open door
I wondered why people love
bad music so much

in a sense
I guess
it makes sense

and why do the musicians
take themselves so seriously

do they know something I don't

and why is some asshole
fucking up a blues' standard
in the parking lot

how did it sound
he asks a girl
good she says

a dude in a black cowboy hat
talking to a middle-aged artist
about gigs and smoking a cigarette
is particularly annoying

the magic is long gone
I would go home if I could
but I can't

so I crank up Prince
shut my eyes
and try to let it wash over me

and it almost works

The Sky Might Fall

the sky might fall
while the trees cry
I call your name
standing in the snow
like an idiot
the river might roll backwards
while the birds fly home
I call your name
and walk north
into a wicked wind
the sun might never rise again
while the rain melts the snow
I call your name
steal a horse
cross the border
and ride into who knows
what
the fuck
is going to happen
I still call your name
knowing full well
you and I
will never
cross paths again
and I will keep calling
until I forget
and that will take
thousands of years
at least

A Long Way Doesn't Have To Be That Far

drunk
on a bright moon
that illuminates
all sorts of shit
I am trying not to see
and maybe a little too much whiskey
and a few beers I shouldn't have added to the mix
I smoke a roach
to calm me down
it makes me have to puke
which I do
in a ditch
a car pulls up
a girl rolls down a window and says I haven't seen you in years
she has red hair and a pretty nice ass
and we said things a long time ago
that didn't sit well
if I remember correctly
I don't feel so hot I say
hop in I'll give you a ride she says
and that seems like a pretty good deal
how you been I ask as I get in the car
very well she says how are you
I was doing pretty good until about five minutes ago I say I think the moon is too bright and that makes everything too clear and fuzzy at the same time if that makes any sense I add and take a deep breath you remember where I live I ask
yes I do she says
in less then a minute 
remarkably
we arrive at my door
it would have taken me forever to get here I say
I saved you five minutes she says
and maybe my life I say
feel better she says
you aren't coming in I ask
she laughs maybe some other time she says and drives away
I hope so I think while I look for my keys
they are harder to find then they should be
I'd been holding them in my right hand since I lit the roach
and that further confuses me
she has a nice smile I think and wonder if I have to go to work in the morning
I think
I do
I think

James Gang

Here's a little something I wrote in my living room and finished in the cab
while I read about a singer named Keven Kinny on the internet
and started a book about the album Grace by Jeff Buckley
and listened to the CD Electroretard by the Melvins for six hours

I threw my money in the river cause it wasn't enough
I chased her down a dirt road and then I got lost
a cop said boy you're in over your head
I said no shit could you give me a lift
he gracelessly did to the jail on third street

but if you're going to pass judgment
you should know some of the whole story

the moon turned purple when the sun went down
I called her name she was nowhere to be found
so I stole her car
hit the bar running
a girl walked up to me and asked for a hundred dollar bill
I gave her a ten
she smiled at me
a couple hours later we were dancing to Hank Williams
Your Cheating Heart
Patsy Cline sealed the deal

the moral of this story is it wasn't my fault

and you can lock me in your jail
and throw away the key
I can sit here for years
wait and see

I threw my money in the river cause it wasn't enough
I threw my money in the river cause it wasn't enough
I threw my money in the river cause it wasn't enough

Johnny Guitar Watson and Leonard Cohen and the Drive By Truckers and the Golden Palominos deserve some of the blame
and of course Bob Dylan
and truth be told the Melvins CD was Houdini and I listened to it for four hours
and I shouldn't blame anyone but myself
and the James Gang have little or nothing to do with this tome
but they are one of the hundred best rock and roll bands of all time
thank you for your's