STUFF

BLACK AND WHITE

I took the way that I loved you from old black and white films,

where they sing and dance,

and make unseen love in a sunlit bedroom,

I took your cues,

as I let my hands wonder,

I caught the glimpse of wonder in your emerald eyes,

you knew just what I wanted to do,

let loose a button,

let go of your distress,

and slide out of that dress,

lay on your back and count the stars in the shining sky,

let my magic hands take heed,

no longer will your heart bleed,

spring board with a scream,

these are the things you never see in old black and white films,

making love in a dark room,

with an empty bottle of rum ,

not even the first one,

everything seems like it never should of seemed,

you look at me,

it's never as good the first,

and neither is this,

a million times it seems,

I've let loose this top button,

held my hands up high,

but now your hands seem like brick,

sinking in the sea,

there ain't no magic in them anymore,

turn off the lights and lets call it a night.

WEIGHTED DOWN BY PLASTIC SUITS

I've grown tired of your tweed suits and scents of cigars,

the flaring tails of these dying stars and martini's being spilled,

the backlash of the batting of your long eyelashes,

I cannot trace the stars at night anymore,

No longer can I lay in the grass,

The weeds in the back are past knee high,

Stowed back in the closet is your old leather jacket,

would you put on the lace and fishnet just one more night?

You could say that we're both apart of this,

but I just don't know,

I'm too old fashioned,

you ask me if this is love,

I'd hold a gun to another mans head,

if his glance came at you wrong,

and you'd still ask me just the same,

you argue when I light my cigarettes,

while one dances on your lips,

justice and love,

I'll pour you vodka over ice,

and I'll take Johnny Walker blue,

sit back in our lawn chairs and stare at the moon.

SLOW

Tight walking under the moonlight two minutes past midnight,

I set off this night under the premise it would be solo,

drinking milk straight from the jug sidewalk chalking,

I'd give myself the old pat on the back for the things that I've done.

SLIPPING DOWN THE SLIDE

skipping rocks on the river,

drinking moonshine,

and apple pie whiskey,

slinging shots out into the rain.

simple times with the pipe,

dreaming bigger then mountains grow high,

foolishness is polished with my big,

my big wooden stick

sticky things these situations seems to be,

believe me I'd rather be,

Skipping rocks on the river,

drinking moonshine,

and apple pie whiskey,

slinging shots out into the rain,

driving down the old route,

picking up ladies sticking out their thumbs,

only if they've got the hills,

that give a good ride,

but they hop on in and start to talk,

I'd rather be,

skipping rocks on the river,

drinking moonshine,

and apple pie whiskey,

slinging shots out into the rain.

SPIT ON THEM

Looking at all these women in the eyes,

brutal blue,

sunset kisses,

swelling up my lips,

swollen eyes,

bleeding on the inside.

Someone is looking at me cursing me,

looking up at the blue skies,

brutish looks sullen swallows,

I'd ask to be vulcanized,

maybe then I'd spend more time,

reading books,

then looking up skirts,

I'd ask you to say what would Ernest Hemingway say?

The look on your face would offer no excuse,

ask you to take off your bling,

and lay next to me,

and lay asleep.