Wednesday, January 31, 2018

He Said, She Said

He said, she said
They said, we said
We don’t eat bread
At least not wheat bread

Keep it, smoke it
Feel it, stroke it
Real is feeling
No see through ceiling

He said, she said
He said, she said

He said, she said
He said, she said

He said, she said
Thee said, three said
We’ll keep reading 
Til we believe it

Kick it, beat it
Thick as three bricks
Wicked is as
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it
Stupid speaks it

None, no, nothin, nada
Is real when he speaks 
Ignore the pesky facts and
Just keeps repeating
Speak the crap that you exact
Is what’s needed
And then you’ll see that everything is
Everything is
Everything is
Absolutely every fucking 
Thing in the world is

He said, she said
He said, she said 
He said, she said 
He’s head, she’s bled

He said, she said
He said, she said 
In bred, piss heads
Believe what we’re fed

He said, she said
P.C. upset
He can’t take it
Please fat man save it

He said, she said 
Peace when they’re dead
Eat or eaten
It keeps repeating

He said, she said
He said, she said 
He bled instead
So we can judge it
Judge, judge, judge, judge it


Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Beans and Genes

I'd like you to hear the dreams
Of a grown-ass man with a little bag of beans
He picked up in Vegas back in Sep
The call was made and he lost the bet

Now lying in the comfy mud
Got those repeating beans in his blood 
He wipes all the mucky brown around
Makes his big brown bed without a sound

Beans beans beans
A little bag of genes
Full of different things
Good, bad and ugly and alluring

Genes genes genes
A little bag of beans
Full of distant dreamings
Could be your day or your undoing

Somehow good, a boiling pot 
Even as he burns he says he's not 
But warm brown mud and beans
Are a good recipe for growing dreams

And he still remembers how
He hoped for a brighter, cleaner now
And with more days of sun
There's a thick vine for climbing up upon

Beans beans beans
A little bag of genes
Full of different nothings
Good, bad and ugly and assuring

Genes genes genes
A little bag of beans
Full of distant dreamings
Some quickly dead but some improving 

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Operator 25

Ask for me
I'm here, see 
Your American girl 

Once from Vera Cruz 
Now here for you 
Out East, be early please 

I see the things 
You're keeping, near 
Every moment of time 

Inside, out 
All about 
No longer even try to hide 

And besides 

I know the look 
That coin you took 
You're the winning kind 

When unsure 
When grey, bored 
I'm right here behind 

2 direct 
Even for a cleptomaniac 
Who lives to rise 

5 more million people 
Turn from the steeple 
All the woolen eyes 

By decree 
Ask for me 
I'm already on the line 

Lonely nights 
Days without sight 
Here waiting for my time 

When you need 
Me and mine 
Every resource 
Couldn't be more kind 
Whether your all 
Or what you leave behind 
I'll still be here 

Operator 25