Guys named Bud who work for
the town
Volunteer firefighters in SUVs
Hey Shorty, name that tune for the
month of June
DMX has been spotted in Applebees
The sirens are crying and the cops
are flying
They're all going different ways
Sinatra lost her to the summer wind
We all get a little desperate at the
end of days
They're all real big and most of it's muscle
Their caps are on backwards but their heads are on straight
They look a little like Buddhas but not so serene
One for my baby, one for the road, one just because it's getting late
The sirens are crying and the cops are flying
They're all going different ways
The piano man says only the good die young
We all get a little desperate at the end of days
she's real sweet
The waitresses are all like family
The guys are too old and the girls
are too young
Nothing's as pretty as what's
on the TV
The sirens are crying and the cops are flying
They're all going different ways
Twenty, twenty-four hours to go, I need
to be sedated
We all get a little desperate at the end of days
This Sunday is said to be the Pentecost
Everyone in here is already speaking in tongues
They don't understand though it's all the same one
The sirens are crying and the cops are flying
They're all going different ways
Can't you see, can't you see, what that woman
been doing to me?
We all get a little desperate at the end of days
into his Corona
He turns the bottle upside down and covers it
with his thumb
God bless the McGuckins and the girl halfway
down with the long dark hair
Who tells her phone, I don't know, he got kind
of weird when I asked if I could come
are flying
They're all going different ways
Get up, stand up, stand up for
your rights
We all get a little desperate at the
end of days
Coyotes on the firehouse lawn
Clouds of bats returning home
Crows up on the telephone wire
Taunting me for being so alone
The sirens are crying and the cops are flying
They're all going different ways
Lord I was born a ramblin' man
We all get a little desperate at the end of days
Was looking at an image...and it linked back to your blog.
ReplyDeleteYour writing "struck a chord"...and I had to write... I do not comment often I am not a blog reader.
Yes I agree it is the end of days. Pick your friends well and hang on... it has silently glided in while we shopped for things we cannot use, never needed. It slid under the door while we slept drugged stupors or watched the suffering on TV...addicted to smiles and shiny people and unending misery.
I was moved by your work as it is very real and not sorry for oneself. I know there are others out there who notice these things but sometimes I feel that I am the only one seeing it. This let me know I am not and that made me happy.
I used to be a farmer and an artist... and now I am just waiting in the midst of a swirling storm of greedy and angry people....I never knew how bad things were until I lost my farm. Then it got really scary...people are not what you believed they were.
I will mark and remember blog and your words. You have reminded me that I am not the only one waiting.
Thanks again,
Judy