Boom

I’m sleepy – Boom! That’s the sound of my head crashing down. It’s creepy, all alone in this godawful town. I’m wondering if the sun is coming up or going down. I’m under the impression it don’t know it’s way around.

Maybe it’s late. Wouldn’t that be great. The stars on my ceiling are glistening.

I dreamed I was on a plane – center seat, center row, center aisle. Surrounded by Jesus freaks smiling impatiently. They told me if I followed they’d lead me up beyond the stars. I told them I was too tired – too tired to go that far.

Maybe it’s late. Wouldn’t that be great. The stars on my ceiling are glistening.

I woke up on a sofa, stretched out on the floor. Whatever, wherever – all’s I remember is being shown the door. I wandered down a darkened street looking for a light. Gotta quit this coma soon, but, baby, not tonight.

Maybe it’s late. Wouldn’t that be great. The stars on my ceiling are glistening.

Sugar Cookie

Used to call me ‘Sugar Cookie’, and I’d answer with a smile. Kick it into neutral, then we’d glide another mile. Used to get there lickety-split, but he didn’t seem to care. As long as there were tree limbs in my hair.

Think I’m over my head.

Used to think that ringlets was the only way to go. Get you in before the crowd, keep you late after the show. I suppose one day I’ll meet his mother. Probably get hit on by his brother. Wonder if those are daggers or colored contacts in his sister’s eyes.

Think I’m over my head. My RPMs are on red. Think I’m over my head.

Thanks so much for your priceless advice, I’ll be back for more tomorrow. Never had a problem begging or stealing, but I sure don’t like to borrow. Ixnay, ergo, s’il vous plait – what language are we speaking today? You bring the means and I’ll bring the passion, and we’ll make our getaway.

Think I’m over my head. Mr RPMs are on red. Think I’m over my head.

00 Drive

He always kept the lights down low, the venetian blinds just so. From daylight to darkness our lives were askew. Now I ask you: What’s a girl supposed to do? Midnight phone calls. Drop-offs and knocks. Plain vanilla envelopes. Swamp water socks. The scar on his forehead. The scab by his eye. I couldn’t help thinking: He must be a spy.

He walked in the bar like a shot on the wind, and he ordered a glass with no ice or no spin. I could tell by his eyes he was up to no good. I could see in his hands he had something to hide. I thought he was a liar but what could I say before he swept, swept, swept, swept, swept me away. So much for my dreams – they were wide as the sky. I just remember thinking: He must be a spy.

It says a lot about my curious nature. I’m so surprised when I consider the facts. I guess it’s a wonder that I got out alive. I just remember thinking: He must be a spy. But…

Oh, could he drive.

The moon went dark as we strolled down the street. And a car rolled up and I was out on my feet. Sometimes I wonder if he thinks about me: If he thought I was blind and I just couldn’t see. The things that he told me just didn’t add up, and now he’s crushed my heart like a Dixie Cup. Now I gotta roll, take a powder and fly.

He must be a spy. He must be a spy. He must be a spy. I really think he is a spy.

Lush Despair

He couldn’t decide, so she went for a ride. Headed south on 9, was she out of her mind. So much for that car. Now she’s counting stars. Counting satellites. Two by two.

She couldn’t care less, so he thought about the caress of another address. Oh, he’ll probably get caught. Maybe he ought to think things through. One by one. Two by two.

It’s like the swirl of an ocean on a radiant day. There’s always something to swim through. The last blush of a dream. Just ask and I’ll scream. And I’ll drag you in, too.

Oh, leave them alone. Let them find their way home. Not caught in a slipstream by the side of the road. Funny how the time, the date, the weather always makes things better.

Call it a draw. Two to two. Two by two. Two to two. Two by two. Two by two.

Streets of Gold

I’ve lived in the East. I’ve walked due West. I’ve flown up North. And drove down South. Flew in on a dream. And so it seems I’ve lost and found a mystery.

A million lights are city grey. And all those people living day to day. Oh, I’ve been told maybe you would know if these here streets are paved with gold.

Spanish Song

At dusk the ladies in their dancing dresses, golden blossoms in their hair. The music starts and the beating hearts and the men just stare. Love is in the air. Oh, yeah – love is in the air. Love is in the air.

Bicker

I’m on fire. You’re a liar. You never squeeze me. Oh, put-lease me – you haven’t let me near you since you got back from Tahiti. Ooo, I see that look – I know it well. Just counting down the seconds ’til you cast another spell. I’ll give you credit – you stuck around. This thing has been a battle since our vows went down.

Don’t know if you believe me but I’m thinking were through. We’re a recipe for disaster – the main ingredient is you.

Well, great – you’re S-faced. Well, BFD. Yeah, I guess it’s just a nip for courage, darlin’. How about one for me? You lied about the laundromat, you lied about the wine. Every weekend at your mother’s goin’ out of my mind. The future seemed so bright – now it’s just noir. So much for your promises of making me a star.

Don’t know if you believe me but I’m bidding you adieu. We’re a recipe for disaster – the main ingredient is you.

Well, we still go together, don’t we? Like a candle and a wick. You’re like jelly on my fingers – I can’t shake you cuz’ we stick. Well, I suppose it could be worse – no one’s leaving in a hearse. Well, I ain’t giving up the ghost. Hey, how ’bout a toast? Here’s to every name you ever called me – and I ever called you, too. Here’s to dancing with who brung me , and to night skies painted blue.

We’re a recipe for disaster…

Floating

There’s too much to keep me guessing. Too many thoughts for my concern. Kissing on camera doesn’t spark my passion, just leaves my lipstick burned. You can be my full-bore twister. I’ll be your zephyr. Please make me up another Open Grave and serve it like a cup of tea.

Subtlety – take a ride with me. I’m a delicacy. You’ll see…

You can keep your honestly. I’ll spread roses on the floor. May beg off another kiss from you, but for whatever not what for. Hey – let’s do something we’ll never forget, like pull up a table and skip out on the check. Looks like I’ll be late in the city tonight, so kiss the little one and turn out the light.

Subtlety – take a ride with me. I’m a delicacy. That’s me. Follow me – we’ll go wild, we’ll go free, through the galaxy. Whoopee!

I’ll even let you drive. I’ll ride somewhere behind.

Chalk the Sidewalk

I’ve got amber and lavender. Lemon yellow and pink. The sidewalk is gleaming. Now here’s what I think. Gonna scribble a monster or portrait a plane. Draw a knight dressed in armor, sketch the country of Spain.

Ooooo – let’s chalk the sidewalk. Can’t wait to hear the neighbors talk of the fabulous figures that flow from my fingers. Ooooo – let’s chalk the sidewalk.

There’s drab and there’s ecru. Eggplant and grape. I could draw out a tiger. Maybe fashion an ape. Something stunning in fuchsia, pretty in iris. Two hearts for my best friends, two lips for a kiss.

Ooooo – let’s chalk the sidewalk. Can’t wait to hear the neighbors talk. Oh the weather is lovely, my drawings divine. I’ve got plenty of concrete and nothing but, nothing but…

Now there’s a big vivid city rising there on the street. A square or a cube taking shape by my feet. With my big bag of chalk I’ll draw from 1st down to Main. Maybe in front of the mayor’s house. What’s he gonna do – complain?!?!

Ooooo – let’s chalk the sidewalk. Can’t wait to hear the neighbors talk. Oh the weather is lovely, my drawings divine. I’ve got plenty of concrete and nothing but, nothing but…time.

Surprise Ending

Met a girl named Maria. She had lightening bolts shooting from her long white fingers. She gave me a look. Now she stars in my book. The one about the drinker who’s a gunslinger.

Take it away. Why don’t you stay?

Bought a Buddha at the Wal-Mart. You know I thought it made me look smart. It’s on the shelf next to Ezra Pound. I know they talk about me when I’m not around.

Take it away. Why don’t you stay.