Bullethole Road

Truck blazing upside down in a ditch  
      at midnight
We were the first ones there
Whiskey smelling in the chill night air
A lot of his stuff had been thrown clear
But the driver was gone
Up the mountain with the porcupine 
      and bear
Bags and keys in the brush, but no
     blood on the trail
His papers said he lived on
    Bullethole Road




It took awhile for the cops to come
And when he did, he waved his arms around
And said, If you didn't see it happen
You got no business here
Go on, get going, he hollered
Get on out of here
So we did as we were told
His papers said he lived on Bullethole Road


Don't know what hit him
If he'd been riding a train full of false love
Or if he'd been slain in his soul
And here I am riding with strangers
Down avenues I don't know
Riding with strangers 
And one of them says
Let's go down to Bullethole Road

Playin' in the Band (For Jerry Garcia)

"We're American.  What we do is as American as lynch mobs. America has always been a complex place." -- Jerry Garcia, 1989

Rock on, hippie Santa, rock on

You have survived

How fortunate we are when our children truly know us

And that knowledge brings a smile, and a song

And a dance

How generous you were

Your country more full of promise than you could fulfill

Even less free today than you ever were, and smaller

No place to run, no place to hide

No place to start all over again

The tracks run to offices

And the roads to malls

Our lives run in circles, not on wheels

And we hear only virtual thunder

All you guys were so much more right than even you knew

They'd rather we fear than we sing

What a country, with all that violent beauty

What beautiful music it makes

              All that contradiction: To balance it is genius  

Equal to man's capacity to dream, wrote your forefather

About a fresh green breast of a new world

Where the first days are the hardest days

And Daisy, I'm sure, wore scarlet begonias

She was not like other girls

In a land where all men are created equal, and 

the slaves make the music

To befriend the devil is righteousness

Remember, 'twas jackstraw drove the red man

from the forest and the plains

All the way to Vietnam

And Tom Joad followed him down that road

Feelin' bad

I will survive: If the thunder don't get you, then the lightning will

All real songs are old

Born in the same place and time

Love for real, not fade away

Driveway Legends (For Dave)

So does it  all start to seem
    like shadows
Or does it all start to seem
    more real?
Do the lines get more blurry
Between what you see and
    what you feel?
And does it all become really
    just a world of pain
So much so that you want to let
    it all go?
And would you do it all again,
And what about it should we know?



Winners out, everything  back
Game is to eleven
Doctor heal me, Magic trick me
Black Jesus whirl me to heaven
If Sidney Moncrief could really fly
We’d  all wish we could get up so high

Once I got up quick over
    your shoulder               
Tipped it back in before you could
    get off the ground
We'd shoot all night and listen
    to the sufferers
Partake ourselves when there
    was no one else around
And one time I beat you
    one-on-one
And all you said was, All right,
    let's do it again
I wish there was something I could
    say to you like that
    right now
Instead of I guess I'll be seeing you,
    my friend


Winners out, everything back
Game is to eleven
Doctor heal me, Magic trick me
Black Jesus whirl me to heaven
If  Sidney Moncrief could really fly
We’d all wish we could get up so high

Who's going to take that last shot and why?
Who wants that ball in his hands?
And who is it that you're really playing for?
Yourself, the others, or those clowns 
    in the stands?
And when that ball rolls away someone has 
    to go get it
Beyond the halo of the lights all is black
You can't see nothing out into that darkness
And if you venture out there there ain't no telling if
        you'll ever come back


Winners out, everything  back
Game is to eleven
Doctor heal me, Magic trick me
Black Jesus whirl me to heaven
If Sidney Moncrief could really fly
We’d all wish we could get up so high

Well back then hardly no one else
    was knowing
That you should be praying
    to asphalt gods
Now there’s too many coaches
    and there ain’t no miracles
Just the percentages and beating
    the odds
Not in the wind, not in the quake
But in some small still quiet space
Not in the words, not in the grace
In the laughter and the bones
    of your hollow face


Winners out, everything  back
Game is to eleven
Doctor heal me, Magic trick me
Black Jesus whirl me to heaven
If Sidney Moncrief could really fly
We’d all wish we could get up so high

Be quick but don’t hurry, the old coach said
For when you hurry you make mistakes
The subtle rules the dense, and you must endure
Your going forth as your coming hence
Nothing has changed, nothing at all
Said my hoopster from his deathbed
I have all the time in the world
I have all the time in the world


Winners out, everything  back
Game is to eleven
Doctor heal me, Magic trick me
Black Jesus whirl me to heaven
If Sidney Moncrief could really fly
We’d all wish we could get up so high



Hey, Dave we were driveway legends
Hey, Dave, we were driveway legends
Hey, Dave, we were driveway legends
We had all the time in the world
Hey, Dave, we were driveway legends
Hey, Dave, we were driveway legends
We had all the time in the world
All the time in the world
Be quick but don’t hurry
You have all the time in the world

Dave Campbell (Death of a Drummer)

    Sky the color of the ashes         
    River the color of the sky
    Didn’t come here expecting answers
    So there’s no sense asking why
    Didn’t come here expecting answers
    So all I’ll do is say goodbye
    But who will keep the rhythm for us?
    Who will keep the time?

    Some will rock, and some will roll
    Need do both to save your soul
    And as for what beauty is
    That I still don’t know

    We crossed that bridge when we 
        came to it
    And we got to the other side
    A girl with a flower in her hair was 
        pouring clear blue fire
    She did it so beautifully I finally broke     
        down and cried
    She asked if I was okay, and I said yeah
    It was just that a friend of mine had died
    We threw roses in the river
    And watched him go out with the tide
    Now who will keep the rhythm for us
    Who will keep the time?

    Some will rock, and some will roll
    Need do both to save your soul
    And as for what beauty  is
    That I still don’t know

    Make haste slowly
    Is something the wise used to say
    Don’t know if it’s something that’s still said
    But it’s still true today
    For the quick and for the grateful dead
    And for all the sojourners along the way
    “People scare me and I seem to scare them
    I guess that means we’re even
    I’ve only ever felt comfortable in the company of artists, writers, and musicians
    So where is Satchmo when you need him?
    Music is the only thing that’s ever been mine
    I rebelled against everything, and I stayed with my own kind”
    Now who will keep the rhythm for us?
    Who will keep the time?

    Some will rock, and some will roll
    Need do both to save your soul
    And as for what beauty  is
    That I still don’t know

Brian's Eyes

If you could see the world through Brian's eyes
Each morning there would be a new sunrise
It rises for the foolish
It shines for the wise
Those who find a place for God
In all that they recognize
Every step a dance
No being so delighted in movement
Can't you imagine being a boy?
This is the genius of joy


What's the good of sleeping
When there's so much to do?
Wide awake at first light
Every day to start anew
A world to begin again
In merry eyes of blue

He understands the 
    worth                     
Of talismans and charm
To influence events
And forestall harm
And maybe only the bottom
    of the ninth
As reason for alarm
Every moment another chance
To see something that's never
    been seen
An actor in the new creation
Quicksilver and amphetamine
Can't you imagine being a boy?
This is the genius of joy


What's the good of sleeping
When there's so much to do?
Wide awake at first light
Every day to start anew
A world to create again
In merry eyes of blue

All you have to do is watch
    long enough
One day you're sure to see the wind
Keep your eyes wide open
It's bound to come around again
And it might invite you where it's going
You can tell it where you've been
Feed a bobcat some goldfish
Tame it with a glance
Know every moment
As another last chance
Can't you imagine being a boy?
This is the genius of joy


What's the good of sleeping
When there's so much to do?
Wide awake at first light
Every day to start anew
A world to create again
In merry eyes of blue

So come tripping down the stairs
Combing back your golden hair
Remarking how the nighttime flies
Yes, it's morning already again
Will you be married?
Will you be rich?
Whatever will be, will be
Yet you begin until you end
Go always toward where happiness lies
Seek in the familiar reason for surprise
Know that no heavenly body
   in celestial skies
Matches the glory of first light
   in Brian's eyes
Can't you imagine being a boy?
This is the genius of joy


What's the good of sleeping
When there's so much to do?
Wide awake at first light
Every day to start anew
A world to create again
In merry eyes of blue