Some Stories

There's another one sometimes somewhere, there's another time to show
where we have sometimes been to where we think we'd go.
And here's another railway station, place where the train must hold.
A moment to rest, the tracks there waiting, some stories take time to fold.
Over and over, your voice rolls over, down into the floor below
where ceilings whisper their beginnings, show me your new point of view.
Take me, take me in your arms race, escalate these rendezvous and
walk me through the shadowed valleys, slip me out of these old shoes.
And here's another railway station, place where the train must hold.
A moment to rest, the tracks there waiting, some stories take time to fold.
There, there, there is an answer--someone must surely know you feel.
But here, here are no answers, here's where some stories are real.

Can't Give Away

He'll never lose hold if he don't take her hand,
He won't float away if he stays on the land,
or get lost out at sea if he sleeps on the sand
He can't lose what he can't give away
Can't give away
He'll never be bothered cause nobody's here.
He'll never miss nobody if nobody's near
With nothing too close he's got nothing to fear,
He can't lose what he can't give away
Can't give away
He wants to give her his night
He wants to give her his day
He'll show her his heart
But he dust can't quite give it away
Sometimes an actor will get the wrong part
And can't really finish want he can't really start
He knows all his lines, but he don't know his heart
He can't lose what can't give away
Can't give away

Sonnet For Saints

When dreams collide,
the children break their fall,
a gesture only tested on the sea.
But when the little eyes are closed too long
converging dreams can spill and float away.
The weaker prophet whispers broken words
and lets his vision sink to waters
deep between the margin of the shore and no return.
A fallen wish for better days,
a narrow road that takes no chances, sees no star.
Beneath the river current infants know
the voices much too far away to fear;
the sound of dreams in struggle, then released,
the ancient cries of starting over new.

Their Better Way

He sits all alone except for the drink and the words he remembers,
the good ones that make all the memories last and they
last much too long in the spring, after hours, and the band has gone home.
I sit alongside him, not face to face, men often do this to help face the world
together, they're stronger, together alone.
I buy him a beer 'cause I've been there before.
Sometimes we still want to see them together,
something that's no longer something today.
Sometimes it's time we forget what we say
'cause it's time they went their better way.
She walks in the doorway, an entrance familiar
to both of them smile their "Good morning to you."
But this time is different, beneath the nice gesture
seems like she whispered "What's happened to you?"
"To me? Are you crazy, are you out of your lost mind?"
He sits down and wonders just how he got there
In between what he doesn't understand
and what sometimes seems all too often too clear
One day she's all alone travelling by cell phone,
she answers in all of the strangest locals.
A bookstore, a theater, sometimes a bathroom stall;
she needs just a little more time to herself.
And he finds the movie seats don't fit the same alone,
popcorn in cardboard has lost its appeal,
the big screen seems smaller , the kisses have disappeared,
the lights just came up, and he barely sat down.

Our Own Time

We can stay up all night counting stars overhead,
sleep away daybreak or not go to bed.
We can say what we want to it's our very own dime.
I guess we're just rebels in our very own time.
We can drink when we're thirsty or drink when we're not.
We can think when we're sleeping, we can snore every thought.
Jump over creek beds, skip down the lane,
act like we're crazy when we're only insane.
In our own time, do what we want too
In our own time, do what we please.
It's our time to make time and our time to spend
A dollar for nothing, a penny to bend
On the train track by the tire shop near the beach if we choose.
It's our time to find time our time to lose.
We don't need a reason, don't need a rhyme,
Don't need a season to know it's our time
The foggy days find ways to show us the sun
Don't need to shine when our own time's begun.
Our own time...
We find our own comfort in our own special way.
We listen to no one with nothing to say.
Sometimes the words we speak are spoken too soon
and sound like an old guitar bent out of tune,
twisted and tangled, nonsensically true,
like a wire stretching out across canyons to you
that once carried words at the drop of a dime.
Might change for a dollar, but we'll take our own time.
In our own time...

Moons and Roses

Roses, roses, red from someone's heart left open much too long.
Roses, roses, by the dozen on the corner like a song
they sing for someone they remember, only roses take them home.
Mountains, mountains, purple shadows paint her body afternoon
resting like a heart that's breathing deep inside a flesh-filled moon
they sing for someone they remember moons and roses take them home.
Think, think, again I'm turning into something I began
when I was younger and much older didn't know your gentle hand.
I sing for someone new each springtime, moons and roses think I'm home.

Lost Lines

The lampposts got the goods on me,
know all about the streets they see,
the truth about some rendezvous,
They've seen too much of me and you.
Short memories can be best of friends when
I can't take back those words I send,
those songs I write then decompose
to songs I find in someone's prose
Lost lines, lost lines
Lincoln heads and dirty dimes
hide out in the Tuggy chair
overstuffed, but we don't care
Lost lines, Lost lines...
I'm walking down lost avenues
then lining up like racks to cue
to crack and kiss the cushion green,
but don't dare tell the folks I've seen
'cause sometimes walls talk much too fast
and blurr as echoes whisper past.
I shake my head, no words to say,
the only words just got away
Lost lines, lost lines
Lincoln heads and dirty dimes
hide out in the Tuggy chair
overstuffed, but we don't care
Lost lines, Lost lines...
I was looking all my life for you
then I found a dream come true.
You handed me some homemade bread
and took me for ride and said
you liked the stories and the songs
and told me you would stay till dawn.
Then the sun came rolling through,
you slipped away like most dreams do.
Lost lines, lost lines
Lincoln heads and dirty dimes
hide out in the Tuggy chair
overstuffed, but we don't care
Lost lines, Lost lines...

Let's Ruin Everything

Boxes full of photographs,
pockets stuffed with our own trash,
even foggy days that last too long
look good to me.
something's going on right here,
something I can't see too clear,
something I can't shake and don't know why.
Someone else can throw the plates,
let everybody else be late,
but I will never ever make you wait for me.
Let's take our chances, twist our fates
Another day might come too late,
Let's ruin everything and call it love
I promise not to break
every promise that I make
Let's ruin everything
and call it love.
Let's ruin everything
Let's kill this song we sing
Let's ruin everything
and call it love.

Shoulder

Everyone leans on you.
You might need a shoulder too,
Some place to dry someone's eyes.
A shoulder to cry on
one to rely on,
a shoulder to try on for size
It seems when we're older
we still need a shoulder,
a candlestick holder
to find our way home
Sometimes when I'm all alone
trying to live on my own
my shoulder can't quite reach my chin
no matter how much we stretch
some sticks a dog won't fetch
we need a shoulder when we
don't quite fit in.
Everyone leans on you.
You might need a shoulder too,
Some place to dry someone's eyes.

Words Come True

Parking lots and cases filled with someone's favorite brew
I know a secret place where we could split a case in two
And if you're a little willing and a little crazy too
Give me some lies, and I'll make some words come true
Give me some thoughts you can't use any more
An old key you're saving that opens no doors
A couple of letters you intended to send
A whisper 'bout nothing to no special friend
And if you're a little willing and a little crazy too
Give me some lies, and I'll make some words come true
Give me your innocence then give me your guilt
And all of those memories you sewed in that quilt
Some seeds that need water, and a handful of clay
I'll mix `em all up into something to say
And if you're a little willing and a little crazy too
Give me some lies, and I'll make some words come true
And I'll take all those bottles in the boxes we split
in the parking lot afternoon evening and sit with a thought about all of the words
that I've seen, but I'll never get worried about what they all mean.
And if you're a little willing and a little crazy too
Give me some lies, and I'll make some words come true

Old Man Sleeps

We spent a lifetime together even though we never really met.
There was something 'bout you and me I could never quite get.
You dreamed about me and I dreamed that I dreamed about you,
but since we've never been one then we'll never be breaking in two.
chorus: Old man sleeps on Mars, resting in the stars,
frozen man awaits your face. He awakes.
We talked to each other except I was always alone.
Each time I called you I could never quite pick up the phone,
had the right things to say, but always ended before I could start.
Since we've never been together then we'll never be falling apart.
You hold out your fingers, I wrap them inside of my hands.
My eyes find your eyes and get lost 'cause they don't understand.
You read all the words, but I look at the pictures instead.
I'm the man on the moon with a wishing star stuck in my head.

Roshambo

We'd been travelling down the highway miles and miles
and miles we drove,
exploring every byway into every dive we dove
"Shall we stop right here for gas," I asked "or further up the road?"
She raised her wrist, and slapped her first
and shouted, "ROSHAMBO!"
Let your fingers do the walkin'
all the thinkin' and the talkin'
when you just can't quite decide which way to go,
Roshambo
You've been standin' on the corner, don't know which way to turn
Been there so many times before, I don't think you'll ever learn,
but I'll tell you if you'll listen, maybe then you'll finally know.
When you can't decide, don't run and hide,
just throw the Roshambo
We used to put a number in our heads from one to ten
or sometimes draw the longest straw to see who'd first begin.
We'd shoot for outs or flip a coin to see what luck bestowed,
but now we stand up hand to hand
and count out Roshambo
Sometimes I feel like singing or playing my guitar,
sometimes I blow harmonica, put money in my jar,
but sometimes I just sit there, can't even tap my toe
I must confide, when I can't decide,
I strum the Roshambo
You've been out till way past midnight burning candles at both ends
your conscience taps your shoulder whispers, "Listen up my friend,
I've seen too many good men lose their way down this same road.
One man blamed it on his hand,
and one on Roshambo

Then Say Goodbye

Is the red inside your head the same as mine?
Is the drink you think I sink into like wine?
Is there something that I'm thinking
that's exactly what you're thinking?
Is the blue I see the same blue in your mind?
Could it be some extra special time of day
or could it be that last thin dime he'd pay
into that parking meter?
just so that he could read her
one more silly poem 'cause it's too early to go home.
The car can wait, it's not too late to make amends,
or say "Hello! What do you know? Could we be friends?"
Could it be a cheap disguise or
could it be the way your eyes
captivate me, lure and bait me into saying long goodbyes
Say hello to long goodbyes and
say so long to those "Good mornings,"
the greetings and the warnings
sometimes wear the same clothes home
Could those roses red, cut dead mean something more
than pruning back what never grew before?
Is there something in those long stems
full of thorns that climb from vase rims?
Is there blood inside that rosebud just like mine?
Could there be another Be My Valentine?
Another table set for two to dine?
Could there be another day
for one more rainy matinee?
A rain dance down Arguello with a vintage sort of
fellow... then say goodbye.

Nothing at All

Closing up and closing down
I felt like a stranger when I walked into town
I used to know every little hole in the wall
Now I know nothing at all.
Where did you go little town that I knew?
Nobody told me these old sidewalks grew.
The road down the middle doesn't look like it did.
Nobody told me, they kept it well hid.
Where did you go? Guess I'll never know.
I didn't know I'd been gone so long
A couple of years turned into a song.
Parking lots, buildings, street signs all changed.
The signposts are there, but they're all rearranged.
Where did you go? Guess I'll never know.
She said it was time I should pack up and go,
needed some distance, needed to know
why the stores had closed up, and the signs had come down
I walked down the street and looked for my town.
Where did you go? Guess I'll never know.