Reality Sucks

This has not been a good week.
Actually, this has been a bad year.
That is not a plea for sympathy,
Or even a cry for help.
It is facing reality.

In the old days, you would exclaim,
“I need a drink!”
Alcohol is expensive.
Worse yet, it’s temporary.

Many in desperation cry out,
“Just shoot me!”
I don’t do that anymore.
Mainly, because someone might.
That could be permanent.

So, here’s my request to the universe..Try to do something today
That makes the world suck less.
I’m not the only one who
Would appreciate it.

Peace.

Ashes to Ashes

I have the idea for a chorus, and then it turned into a bunch of related choruses, but I have no idea what the verses would be. I was thinking if I wrote it down, it might help. So far, it hasn’t.

Steve Earle has a song called “Ashes to Ashes” on his “Jerusalem” album, I heard another song that uses the phrase on KNON yesterday (Thank you, Texas Renegade Radio!), and it is a great phrase for a country song, as are many Biblical phrases.

I’m beginning to think you just call this “Ashes to Ashes” and just use all the choruses as they are, and declared them verses. I suppose they should be in alphabetical order, but that may be trying to hard.

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
Before I could drive,
I had to be bussed.

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
Yeast, water and flour
Make your daily crust.

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
I dropped the coffee,
And how Daddy cussed.

Ashes to ashes, 
Dust to dust.
It’s fire for the wicked,
And joy for the just.

(Editor’s note: that is the only one someone might actually use. I really like it.)

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
Out of all of my sins,
I’ve suffered most for my lust.

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
If you want good wine,
You have to age the must.

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.
Hasn’t rained in forever,
So what caused all this rust?

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
The last thing to break
Is another man’s trust.

<last chorus, only makes sense live, why do I hear Jim or Jason sing this?>

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.
There’s a woman down front
With a mighty fine bust.

NASCAR Blues

I’ve been going round in circles.
Just going with the flow.
I’ve seen that pretty girl before,
About thirty-four seconds ago.

I only stop for tires and gas,
I can’t even  visit the bar.
I really need a pee break,
But I just can’t leave the car.

I’m turning left forever,
I’m out here all alone,
I’ve gone three hundred miles,
But I’m no closer to my home.

The Ballad of the Lost Keys (aka Sainthood Postponed)

I visited the sick today,
I listened to their pleas.
But now My Lord is testing me,
The valet lost my keys.

I was going to go in peace.
Onward through the fray.
“Who was that saintly woman?”
All the nursing staff would say.

I would have left in peace,
Except for that damn valet.
The bastard lost my friggin’ keys.
So I can’t just drive away.

People started watching,
As I chastised that valet.
It’s hard to appear saintly,
When you’re cussing out Jose.

I want to love my fellow man,
Since I have My Lord to please.
But I’m going to strangle one of them,
If he doesn’t find my keys.