LYRICS
Horse Shit
I see your picture on my homepage.
I find that I can’t look away.
I didn’t think it would hurt this much,
But I’m fine, I’m fine—let’s stay in touch.
I can’t complain about the guy you chose.
He seems pretty cool I suppose.
In my head he seems a lot like me,
but I project myself onto your selfies.
I can’t escape you.
I can’t replace you.
I can’t block you out.
I guess I don’t know how.
This song started as one thing,
but then I started getting sad so I couldn’t sing.
So I wrote a shitty metaphor
to try to change it up, but I can’t ignore
That I can’t escape you.
I can’t replace you.
I can’t block you out.
I guess I don’t know how.
You’re a princess and I’m a knave.
You take while I save and slave away.
You’re kind of like a cliche song
with cliche words, but I’ll sing along.
Cuz you’re stuck in my head.
You’re always stuck in my head.
I can’t seem to tune you out.
I guess I don’t know how.
Hell
Everybody wants me to come hang out.
Everybody wants me to come to town.
If they only knew it’s not easy for me to do,
They would know why I won’t come around.
If you marry him, I know that it will end me.
If you marry him, I’ll do it to myself.
If you only knew how many times I’ve thought of you,
You would never have put me through this hell.
Everybody wants me to come hang out.
Everybody wants me to come to town.
But if they only knew the awful shit you put me through,
They would know why I won’t come around.
A Good Mood is Hard to Find
A good mood is hard to find
when you’re spending all your time in bed.
You spent your whole damn day in it.
You won’t be a socialite.
You refuse to go outside.
You spent the day in bed feeling hideous.
Faking smiles to seem polite.
Do your least but still getting by.
You can’t wait to get to bed.
You cancelled all your plans.
The faking piles ‘til you feel phony.
You exile ‘til you are lonely laying in your bed.
You cancelled your plans again.
A good mood is hard to find,
but I’ve got you and that’s all right.
We spent the day in bed feeling innocent.
(I’m dating my depression.
I thought I learned my lesson,
but I keep letting her sleep over.
I thought we were on a split right now,
but I still feel like shit somehow.
And I keep letting her sleep over.)
If You Want to Die
If you want to die,
take a selfie and put it online.
It will get about 44 likes
(enough to validate living your life)
if you want to die.
If you feel unloved,
swipe around ‘til you develop a crush.
Play it cool and don’t tell her too much
if you feel unloved.
If you’re feeling down,
your opinions are structurally sound.
Your echo chamber will hold up your crown
if you’re feeling down.
If you’re feeling dead
cuz too much stimuli’s fucked with your head.
Charge your phone and lay in your bed,
if you’re feeling dead.
If you feel depressed,
you should take a personality test.
You’ll confirm that you’re just nervous and stressed
if you feel depressed.
If you still want to die,
you should livestream your suicide.
If no one views it, then you’re not justified.
You’ll have to keep on living your life
if you want to die.
Demon Dreams
I saw you dreaming–well, you were in mine.
I hope you and me were dreaming at the same time.
Yeah, you were with me, but so were demons.
I hear them in my hallway cackling and screaming
“We might be empty inside. Come and break us open.
Go ahead and dip your fingers. Feel how well I’m flowing.”
Get yourself a pistol. Pick out a revolver.
Play Russian Roulette with your brand new problem solver.
Now you’re not with me. I hope I’m still dreaming.
I hope you’ll be beside me when I wake up screaming
“I think I’m empty inside. Come and break me open.
Go ahead and dip your fingers. Feel how well I’m flowing.”
Ugly Bones
I’m a different person when I’m sinking,
but I can’t stop picking up these stones.
Do you know what ever I’ve been thinking?
I’ve been feeling ugly in my bones.
Last week I saw the sun and moon were kissing.
my eyes were slits while looking at the glow.
I didn’t know I’d see something so pretty
or that it would make me feel alone.
I’ve been feeling ugly in my bones.
I’ve been feeling ugly in my bones.
Sometimes I just can’t find my feelings.
I’m not sure where they decide to go.
Do you know what it is I’m feeling?
I’ve been feeling ugly in my bones.
Insomnia
Got a friend who only sleeps in trees, but she doesn’t go outside.
Well, ya see, she never sleeps, but she says she’s all right.
She says she dreams such awful things when she tries to sleep inside.
Eyes wide open every day, too dry to even cry.
She says she “couldn’t be any happier.”
Got a friend who smokes cigarettes every single day.
Yeah, he knows that they’re bad for his health,
but he smokes them anyway.
He doesn’t mind that he coughs a lot, he says “We only live to die.”
Well, I guess it’s his life, he can smoke them if he likes.
He says he “couldn’t be any happier.”
“And all I want is to be a happy man.”
Clumsy Dancer
When my ear drum’s in need of tuning,
and all the bones have turned to dust,
will I still see Styx when I’m dreaming?
Will I still hear you call me Buss?
No, I don’t think there’s a God above me,
or else I must’ve made him mad,
because he takes everything I think is lovely
and smashes them all in his hand.
When my body is full of cancer
from all the sunshine and the drugs,
will you still be my clumsy dancer,
take my hand, and be my love?
PPSSP
Dear Esperanza,
I can’t help starin’ at ya,
but you don’t listen to a word I say.
My accent won’t let me
pronounce your name correctly
so please don’t hate me, Espe. Let me stay.
One of you inside that head is capable of love,
but it ain’t the one I found when I woke up.
Art made from porno mags,
blue jeans, and Wal-Mart bags.
You paint a picture for me every day.
Blue balls and red flags.
Your eyes are brown, but your heart is black.
I don’t know who you’re going to be today.
And P.S. Espe, I thought I had good luck,
but the only thing I found was forty bucks.
Dear Esperanza,
I can’t help starin’ at ya,
but you don’t listen to a word I say.
Dear Esperanza,
I think that I can’t stand ya,
cuz I don’t believe a single word you say.
P.P.S. Espe, if you don’t want my love,
I need to know. Don’t waste my time, please hurry up.
Lovefaker
You always want to be near me.
I don’t know why I’m always distant.
I am numb when you touch me.
I can’t allow myself to be happy.
I can make you feel loved,
but if I’m always faking it,
it isn’t enough.
Listmaker
I made a list of the things I need.
I wrote “Money” and “Self Esteem.”
And I could use a half ounce of weed.
But—that’s a want and not a need.
I gotta get my priorities
in order, so it seems.
Cuz I’m running from my dreams,
and it’s making me feel mean.
It’s making me feel mean.
It’s making me blow smoke.
I can hear you laughing.
You laugh, but it’s no joke.
You made a list of the things I need.
You wrote “God” and “a degree.”
you didn’t write down “therapy,”
Cuz you just want what’s best for me.
I made a list of the things I need.
Thought I was destined to succeed.
Then I realized that your dreams
just weren’t right for me.
You thought you could save me
by shoving shit right down my throat.
Well I don’t need your father,
your son, or Holy Ghost.
I bought a book on anarchy.
That’s a little bit of irony.
But I was hoping to find the key
or something to believe.
I made a list of the things I need
I wrote them down:
1. _____
2. _____
3. _____
But I left the lines empty
to reflect the current “me.”
My tank is on empty.
My heart is out of hope.
I know that you are laughing,
but I’m the writer of the joke.
I’m Fine, I’m Fine
I took your t-shirt and I didn’t give it back.
That was pretty petty, so I guess I’ll give you that.
You send me messages and ask if I’m okay.
I’m reluctant to reply, but then I finally say
“You left your footprints on the window of my car
and I would always see them when the defrost fogged them up.
You send me messages and ask if I’m okay.
I’m reluctant to reply, but then I finally say
‘I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.
You’re always on my mind, but I’m fine.'”
Settle
I would settle for an impersonation of you:
a smile that differs a little,
brown eyes instead of blue.
They don’t have to look the same
(God forbid they share your name),
a simple resemblance will do.
I don’t want them to play guitar
or leave footprints in my car.
These things–they can’t take away from you.
I would settle for an impersonation of you:
a smile that differs a little,
brown eyes instead of blue.
I am tired of these nightmares,
and the good dreams never come true.
But I would rather have nightmares
when all of my good dreams are of you.
Along Alright
I’ve only got one skill–It’s called “paying my bills on time.”
And I don’t know what your deal is, but I think we’d get along alright.
Now you’re knocking, leaving nasty notes upon my door.
You want me evicted, even though I gave you all my dough.
I just took some pills–the kind that make me feel just fine.
And I don’t know what your deal is when I’m paying my bills on time.
I can’t have a family or a homestead or a wife.
If I come home evicted, I know I’ll take my life.
I’ve only got one skill–It’s called “paying my bills on time.”
And I don’t know what your deal is, but I think we’d get along alright.
And I gave you all my money.
Empty Houses (Acid Man)
I stand outside and I smoke with my friends
and we talk and we gawk at the people.
Acid Man shakes and he spins and
his thoughts don’t come out like he thinks them.
And I wonder what goes on inside his brain.
I wonder if he sleeps at night or if his mind’s in constant pain.
And I just wanted to buy a house,
but people with more money keep on buying me out.
And that’s okay cuz I still get by,
but it gets cold at night and Acid Man has to sleep outside.
I’m surrounded by empty houses
and I wanna do something about it if I can.
I hate that they’re never lived in–
We might as well burn them down,
might as well warm up the town.
I’m surrounded by empty houses,
and Acid Man don’t have one
Acid man, he needs one.
I hate that you want to hate him–
I think we should burn you down.
I think it would warm up the town.
I’m surrounded by empty houses
and I wanna do something about it if I can.
I hate that they’re never lived in–
We might as well burn them down,
might as well warm up the town.
Fuckin’ Yups
Fuckin’ yups wanna rent to me.
Next sentence wanna vent to me
how they wanna kick their tenants out
cuz they really wanna flip the house
and the market’s right–
it’s a seller’s time.
Fuckin’ yups infiltrate the land.
Fuckin’ yups bring their business in.
Fuckin’ yups push the people out.
Fuckin’ yups, man, they wanna pout ‘bout how hard it is
to start their tech start biz.
Fuckin’ yups wanna preach to me
‘bout how they know what’s right for me.
Fuckin’ yups wanna help me out–
give me tips on how to flip a house
like I asked for it.
I hate that shit.
Tennessee Senator Marsha Blackburn is a Drug Dealer
The kids are dying of fentanyl–
she knows the deal.
Marsha know addiction sells so
she pushes pills.
She takes donations from Big Pharma
that could buy Acid Man a home.
I want to make it all known.
The kids are dying of fentanyl
cuz she made a deal.
Cut with fake prescription pills–
you know it’s real.
She takes donations from Big Pharma
while we lost Mac and Lil Peep.
She’s evil to me.
Mama had a baby and he broke his arm.
She took him to the doctor and she meant no harm.
The doc prescribed Percocet for the pain,
but the withdrawal made the little baby boy insane.
And she says “Where’s my son, Marsha?
Where’s my son, Marsha?”
Baby Boy was fiending and he meant no harm.
He got his refill from a guy at a bar.
That Xanax bar was fake and cut with fentanyl.
Baby Boy OD’d and now he’s dead from pills.
WHERE’S MY SON, MARSHA?
WHERE’S MY SON, MARSHA?
WHERE’S MY SON, MARSHA?
WHERE’S MY SON?
Beer Don’t Holler
Why get sober?
Why get clean
when these drugs
aren’t so mean?
Oh, beer don’t holler,
whiskey don’t scream,
and you’re drowning out my dreams.
Pour me another shot.
These drugs are all I’ve got.
Beer ain’t colder
and pot don’t fight.
And you bark and you bite.
And you don’t help me
fall asleep at night.
And we fight, and we fight.
I guess I’ll smoke some pot
cuz you yell an awful lot.
yeeheehee
Why get sober?
Why get clean
when these drugs
aren’t so mean?
Beer don’t holler.
Whiskey don’t scream.
And you’re drowning out my dreams.
Oh, poor me, another shot.
These drugs are all I’ve got.
Angels Away
I had an angel–she was my squeeze.
She’d cradle me all through the night
and save me from my demon dreams.
I knew she loved me cuz she’d spread her wings
and shield me of all the evil
the outside world would bring.
But I got an illness inside my brain,
and something about it, baby, pushes angels away.
I had an angel.
I broke her heart.
I pick up the pieces, but they’re ripping us apart.
I had an angel.
I let her go.
Often angels are the hardest thing to keep in your home.
And I got an illness inside my brain,
something about it, baby, pushes angels away.
If You Find Heaven
If you find Heaven,
I’d like to see.
Don’t try to hide it–
Show heaven to me.
I wish you were near me.
If that’s where you are,
then I’ll try my hardest
to shoot for your star.
If you find Heaven,
I’d like to know.
Please don’t conceal it,
Please bring it home.
I can’t wait to see you.
I can’t wait to see–
If you find Heaven,
show Heaven to me.
Heaven is paradise–
I don’t think it’s real.
But if you could steal some,
I’d sure like to feel
His presence within me.
I want it so much.
If you find Heaven,
I long for its touch.
She Says
“I wanna see you on Tuesday,
But you got the blues? Oh, what’s new, yeah.
You won’t text in the evenings.
Keep thinking you’re gonna leave me.
I hope you won’t go.
I invite you to the party.
It’s Halloween and we can dress funny.
Ben’s playing his tribute to Quentin.
But you’d rather stay home and stay in.
I know you won’t go.
I was hoping maybe I could come over?
It’s been four days and I’d sure like to see you.
You can say ‘no’ if you want to.
I’m just hoping that you’ll say ‘I love you.’
But I just don’t know.”
7 Rings
I said I’ve only got one skill.
I said I could pay my bills,
but I’m facing unemployment still.
Now I’m struggling to pay my bills.
And I wish I could afford my rent.
I wish I could pay off my debt,
but I haven’t found an income yet.
I haven’t found an income yet.
She don’t know how bad it stings.
She don’t know how bad it stings.
She slaps me with seven rings.
She slaps me with seven rings.
Forehead 2
If I lean forward, I feel it tighten.
If I lean backward, I hit the door.
If I give up, will I feel enlightened?
Or should I just lean my forehead to the floor?
Or should I lean my forehead to the floor?
It’s in the rafters of every ceiling.
Whenever I enter, I feel it reeling.
I can’t help my thoughts.
I can’t help my thoughts.
I can’t help my thoughts.
I can’t help my thoughts.
If I lean forward, I feel it tighten.
If I lean backward, I hit the door.
If I give up, will I feel enlightened?
Or should I just lean my forehead to the floor?
Or should I lean my forehead to the floor?
Or should I lean my forehead to the floor?
Or should I lean my forehead to the floor?
Under The Table
I’ve been so jaded lately–I hate it.
But I’m in a stalemate, a checkmate, a Red state.
It’s getting hotter and I’m getting hateful,
Yet I have the privilege of feeling so grateful.
I bought a gun last week from my brother
under the table away from my mother.
I hear it calling. I hear it talking.
It’s praying for me, so I better keep walking.
I’m glued to the news and it’s always lying.
It’s tuned to the views of people denying.
He’s biding his time. He’s growing his power.
I’ve got to cool down, maybe I need a shower.
Get Wet
Think I’m gonna jump into the river
with all my sins around my neck,
a cinder block around my ankles,
a crown of thorns upon my head.
Think I’m gonna jump into the river
and get baptized or break my neck.
I wanna let that dirty water
wash away all my regret.
Dip me, dunk me down into the water.
Hold me down so I may drown.
If I’m floating toward the Father
give me the chance to turn around.
Gun Thang
I’ll tell you something I believe:
If they’re right about one thing,
I think it’s the gun thing.
Knife in my back.
Cog in their plan.
Lump in my throat.
Gun in my hand.
Left Arms
I don’t wanna be cryptic, and I don’t wanna be funny.
We’ve got to stop letting them take all of our money.
We’ve got to stop paying rent with our hard-earned money.
Cuz we’re subhuman to them when we don’t have any money.
And if you ask me?
The best way to spend our money?
The best way to spend all our money:
Buy guns. Buy guns. You better buy guns.
I believe we’ll be post-money some time post-2020
and I’ll be 30 in ’21, but I might not have any money.
And if you ask me?
I’ll be dead by ’31 if I don’t save up for a gun.
I need to buy guns. Buy guns.
Get yourself a Kalashnikov–bury it in your backyard.
Learn how to make a Molotov–It ain’t that hard.
The Tumor
Your malignant tumor attached to your soul.
Not easily removed, but it’ll kill if you don’t.
It might be an old friend, your god, or your home.
It might make you feel cozy, but you’ll feel all alone.
If you do not grow, the tumor sure will.
Please let go of nostalgia, or the tumor will kill.
So be your own surgeon. You have the skill.
If you leave that tumor, you’re terminally ill.
Cruelty, U.S.A.
In Indiana they teach a lesson
“Get rid of needles, get into Heaven.”
Show no compassion, to the afflicted.
Increase diseases for the addicted.
Way down in Georgia they rape the women,
if they get pregnant, send them to prison.
Show no compassion, to the afflicted.
Decrease the treatment for all the victims.
Across the nation they stagnate the wages,
put unaborted babies in overcrowded cages,
increase the sentence for minor offenses,
increase the debt, and increase the interest.
Punish the pregnant. Drug test the peasants.
Punish the pregnant. Drug test the peasants.
Sunshine Gets Hotter
Kara thinks the world’s gonna end in her lifetime,
And if not hers or mine, then in her son’s time.
She said she’s been seeing the signs damn near her whole life,
and then I heard her sigh “just feel the sunshine.”
The sunshine gets hotter, the sea levels rise.
One day the ocean will swallow the sky.
The winters get warmer, they feel like the fall.
One day there will be no autumn at all.
Hannah talks to God all the time–He is her lifeline.
And she never hides how she feels–She feels like sunshine.
I guess if the world’s gonna end I’m glad that she’s my friend.
If it’s the end of times, she is my sunshine.
The sunshine gets hotter, the sea levels rise.
One day the ocean will swallow the sky.
The winters get warmer, they feel like the fall.
One day there will be no autumn at all.
Jesus and Judas will break into song.
Abel and Cain’ll both sing along.
Hannah, oh Hannah please hold my hand.
I want you beside me if the world should end.
Killology
Police are in the street.
They come for you.
They come for me.
If they think you’ll run
they shoot you down
and say you had a gun.
Police are in the street.
They gun for you.
They gun for me.
If you have a gun
and shoot them down
you better run.
You could be at home–
could be asleep.
You wouldn’t know.
If they see your gun
they shoot you down
just for fun.
Tennessee Senator Marsha Blackburn is a Drug Dealer
The kids are dying of fentanyl–you know it’s real.
Marsha know addiction sells so she pushes pills.
She takes donations from Big Pharma
that could buy Acid Man a home.
I want to make it all known.
The kids are dying of fentanyl cuz She made a deal.
Cut with fake prescription pills–you know it’s real.
She takes donations from Big Pharma
while we lost Mac and Lil Peep.
She’s evil to me.
Mama had a baby and he broke his arm.
She took him to the doctor and she meant no harm.
The doc prescribed Percocet for the pain,
but the withdrawal made the little baby boy insane.
And she says “Where’s my son, Marsha?
Where’s my son, Marsha?”
Baby Boy was fiending and he meant no harm.
He got his refill from a guy at a bar.
That Xanax bar was fake and cut with fentanyl.
Baby Boy OD’d and now he’s dead from pills.
WHERE’S MY SON, MARSHA?
WHERE’S MY SON, MARSHA?
WHERE’S MY SON, MARSHA?
WHERE’S MY SON?
I Will Live Presently
I keep feeling guilty, because the way you love me
makes me feel like I faked all the times before.
I never cheated my old lovers, you’re just better than all the others.
I know I won’t feel guilty anymore.
Guilt is a Christian thing instilled eternally.
But I’m just gonna sing, and let the guilt leave my body.
I keep feeling better, you’re like lovely weather.
And I won’t hang in the rainclouds anymore.
If I have my day of sorrow, I’ll put my focus toward tomorrow.
And I won’t lean my forehead to the floor.I don’t want to die.
I just want to be.
With you by my side,
I will live presently.
So What?
Transphobes and fascists hate all our guts
For what? For what? For what?
Janey and Lilly are sisters to me
You fuck with them, you fuck with me.
Matt Walsh and Marsha Blackburn
Spread their hatred faster, faster
They do their best to start the rapture
They turn my state into a disaster
Janey and Lilly are sisters to me
Guess what, you’ll have to get through me, and me, and me, and me
Transphobes and fascists hate all our guts
Well so what! So What, they won’t stop us
So what, so what, so what
Janey and Lilly are sisters to me
Rhinestones
Draw the line, jigsaw the thyme.
Soak the needle in the brine.
Wring it out into the grime.
Ring the bell and ring the chime.
Come inside.
Valentine, please come inside.
Dig your knuckles in my spine.
Bake the baby, make the bride.
Throw yourself into the tide,
Valentine.
Parasite–brand new soul
taking over–takes control
of the thunder. Let it roll.
Let it roar and let it grow.
Draw the line.
Valentine, please draw the line.
Draw the bath and close the blinds.
Birth the baby, say good bye.
Drain the tub and make it cry,
Valentine.
Shovel Song
I shovel up your love and slide it into my mouth.
I shuffle up the running cup up from the spout.
I feel the finger, let it linger til I pull it out.
An elevator goes much further in the South,
but I will ride it until I’ve got it figured out.
I will let it lift you up while it takes me down.
A necklace draped in a Texas-shape atop your blouse.
I kiss the freckles on your neck where they’re peeking out,
moving upward til my mouth meets with your mouth.
I can’t believe the life I’ve made here in the South.
I take the shovel and I shove it into the ground.
I bury all my love and smother it with sound
until the notes and moans are drowning out the hounds.
Please believe me that I love you with every ounce,
with every fiber, every atom, every ember in a fire.
I’m a lantern. You’re a lighter burning brighter.
Hannah I <3 You
At Never Never I saw forever, but
you don’t believe me that I see what I see.
Inside of Three Crow I saw an angel
sat ‘cross the table just like a fable.
Hannah, I love you. Hannah, I want you.
Inside my bedroom and outward toward the moon
I felt the Earth move and I know it felt true.
Slung in a hammock, I felt no gimmick
I felt how I feel and I know it’s real.
Hannah, I love you! Hannah, I want you!
A Plastic Bowl
Take a look and bounce around, take a look around.
Cheerios and Coca-Cola, take a look around.
Cereal in a plastic bowl,
a plastic bowl while you’re wearing camo.
A plastic bowl while you’re wearing camo.
Take a look around, take a look around, take a look around,
take a look around, take a look around, take a look around.
Take a look she’s on the couch, take a look around.
Take a look, I’m right beside her, take a look around.
The ceiling fan is our biggest fan,
and you’re the biggest ceiling fan fan.
You are the biggest ceiling fan fan.
I want to show you what it means to love.
I want to set a good example.
I want to teach you self respect and
let you know we’re here to always help you.
We want to show you love,
show you how to love yourself,
and how to love somebody else.
Take a look around, take a look around, take a look around,
take a look around, take a look around, take a look around.
Rocky and Gunner
Rocky and Gunner, what could be funner
than a baby in a barrel singing his carols to me?
Mama and Simon–couple of diamonds–
singing and rhyming, just shining away.
Piggy in a blanket getting his tank wet.
(It doesn’t stank yet, but he shit himself).
Simon says through hiccups “it’s a fucking stickup!
Mama, get your pickup! We’re leaving today.”
Taking the sun and holding him hostage.
Taking a gun and knowing I’ve lost.
Rocky and Gunner rescue the sun with
no eye-protection–only their weapons:
Metal and pebbles, muzzles and barrels,
rubber on pedals—unstucking the truck.
Devils and rebels, puzzles and peril,
buzzing with treble and brimming with luck.
Rocky and Gunner–absolute stunners–
basically brothers just saving the day.
Small Deck
I was daydreaming, thinking of a way to kill my boredom.
I’d like to have some company and I need to get some chores done.
I’ve been staring at the boards, studying the way they are warping.
I’m thinking if I call my buddies, maybe we can get to working.
I don’t think it would be that hard
to replace the deck in my backyard.
It takes up the whole back lawn, but my yard is very small.
Nah, it won’t be hard at all. Nah, it won’t be hard at all.
I’ll get a few good friends–pay them in beer and weed.
The wood would be delivered, and I got all the tools we need.
We’ll listen to our favorite songs while cracking lots of jokes.
We’ll talk about TV shows through the hammering and the smoke.
And it won’t be hard at all.–Plus my yard is very small.
I got a bluetooth speaker and I think it sounds okay.
We’ll listen to our favorite bands while we work away the day
We’ll listen to Big Thief, Neil Young, and The Replacements.
We’ll listen to Silver Jews, Deerhunter, and Pavement.
And it won’t be hard at all, crossfaded in the fall.
Nah, it won’t be hard at all
This past spring, a storm blew my fence post down.
And damn it, I fixed that fence post.
(Damn it, he fixed that fence post!)
And it wasn’t hard at all. Nah, it wasn’t hard at all.
It was . . .
One boredom denied, one board at a time.
(It wasn’t hard at all. Nah, it wasn’t hard at all.)
777
777 everyday
Get to Heaven if only I could pray
I hear the bells from Hell keep ringing
But the Lord above commands I keep singing
Odd walker, will you walk upon your way?
God talker, will tell me what to say?
I keep choking up every time I try to whisper,
but I heard what you said, so I’ll sing through the blisters
777 everyday
Disc Golfing
I’m going disc golfing
My friends are coming to pick me up.
I’m going disc golfing.
I’m gonna go out and get some sun.
Victor lends me a putter.
Jordan lends me all the others.
I’m going disc golfing.
We’re at 7 Oaks.
It’s time to smoke and go
Disc golfing
Disc golfing
I’m going disc golfing
My friends are coming to pick me up.
I’m going disc golfing.
I’m gonna go out and get some sun.
Victor lends me a putter.
Jordan lends me all the others.
I’m going disc golfing.
I’ve got the highest score.
I need to practice more
Disc golfing
Disc golfing
Tailspin
The new speed bumps were covered in snow.
His slippy pickup hitched a firewood tow.
Untarped, untethered–exposed to the weather.
One bump and a black ice patch. Log jump up sneak attack.
A snowblind squint would be the last thing he would know.
He didn’t see it coming, the log went and made him nothing.
It weren’t a virgin road, just careless in the cold.
Nothing’s never wrong, but something always is.
I’ve got what’s mine, he’s got what’s his.
Pavlov’s puppy dog had parvo.
Ring a bell, and hell, he gets that starvation glow.
Salivate near the shitter, he killed the whole litter.
He barked and howled, carried on real loud
“I’m sorry pappy, but I think it’s time to go.”
The dog went under the porch in the summer.
It hurt more than I could know, but the mud down here is cold.
Nothing’s never wrong, but something always is.
I’ve got what’s mine, he’s got what’s his.
Nothing’s never wrong, but something always is.
My god is mine, his god is his.
The Sun’s Only Just Coming Up
The sun’s only just coming up right now,
but I’ve been awake for a while.
I couldn’t sleep cuz the storm was blowing.
There’s snow and ice all over the ground.
I couldn’t sleep, but I’m not minding.
I’m rewinding and replaying all my prayers and dreams.
I didn’t dream a middle name for Simon,
but that don’t mean I ain’t trying.
You’ve suggested my name, and for that—-I’m flattered,
but names matter, and I’m afraid of the shadow it casts.
The sun’s only just coming up right now,
but I’ve been awake for a while.
Nashcals
Stray cat in the rubble,
killing rats and staying out of trouble
til a tourist came along,
stomped the kitty that survived the bomb.
Groundhog by the river,
eating grass and digging through the litter,
hoping he’s gonna find some glitter,
hoping to live a life less bitter.
Dead bat in the alley,
baking in that sun-soaked concrete valley.
Did it reverberate all wrong?
Is a mold or fungus living in your lung?
Did it reverberate all wrong?
Did it reverberate all wrong?
Forever in Heaven
Grandpa was a Cherokee,
Praised the Holy Trinity,
Left his home, didn’t say goodbye.
He’ll see us in another life.
“Don’t you cry, my darlings.
I’m up here with the starlings.”
Something sad, but something true:
one day I’ll say goodbye to you.
I will leave Nashville, Tennessee,
America, and Planet Three.
But don’t you cry, my cowboy.
I’m still here for now, boy.
You are cute and you’re funny too.
I have got good news for you . . .
YOU WILL LIVE FOREVER IN HEAVEN.
