I'm Not

I'm not the fool on the hill
who paces in place
when he should be sitting still
you ask for a cure
and they give you a pill
I'm not the fool on the hill

I'm not a bird in the sky
just a murmur of breath
as our lives pass us by
but if I'm gonna live,
well then I'm gonna die
But, I'm not a bird in the sky


I'm not a preacher of men
not a scholar, or poet
but I like to pretend
sometimes i get stories
and I put them to pen
But, I'm not a preacher of men

No, I'm not the man in my songs
I'm just a fool
who goes blathering on
'bout the places I've seen
and the things that I've done
But I'm not the man in my songs

Gut string guit-ring

dancin' hat and drinkin shoes
elevator goin up, or goin down blues
a few truths and a noose is proof
for shootin out the moon

mirrors and beards and flashlight tag
you're it when you're illuminated.


the car has it's own lane, the bike it's own life
and mine is a twisted cardboard figure
so figure that out.
short stories of quarries and queries about
where you'll be when the man comes down

sitting on a gut string guitar hamstringed and ringing
pure tone. 

the majestic

I thought about dropping into lee jackosn tonight
going for a short four hour drive down some curvy gravel road
watch the landmines explode under different colors
it would have been a long time before I looked out the window, or watched tires float by
one at a time.