The Anonymous Alcoholic

You walk in the room
The folks are all there
With glasses in hand
But you can't take the band
So you head for the bar
The barman's well stocked
He knows where you're at
He offers a drink
But you can't take none of that
(No you can't take none of that)

Everybody's having fun
So why be the one
Who's out in the cold
It's not good enough
You made a deal with yourself
You said you'd never take another drop
Your craving's big, your livers shot
You'd give a million for a solitary drop

You take your first belt
It tastes like pure hell
The second one drops
Intentions are shot
Well you think you might as well
You take another sip
You get to likin' it
The music sounds hip
So you head for the floor
(So you head for the floor)
Yea yea yea yea yea

Well you step out on the dance floor
And you grab at your boss's wife
You've been longing to hold her close
For the whole of your working life
And the band played on

Move your ass

Well your hostess is lookin' mad
As your hands start to wander
And your boss is gonna get you now
He's gonna put you six feet under
You get walked out the door
And your feet don't touch the floor
You're never gonna see `em no more

The dawn starts to break
Your heads a big ache
You're lyin' in bed
You're back from the dead
And your mouth feels like old leather
(Old leather)
Never do it again
(You'll never do it again)

Everyone was havin' fun
But you were the one
Kicked out in the cold
You slept in your clothes
You let `em down
Down at the club
You know your confidence got to take the rub
Your boss is sore
You've had your chance
He says he never wants to see you again
Don't wanna see you again
(Don't wanna see you again)

You've got to dry out
The boys have found out
It's the end of the line
But it's martini time
So you head for the bar..r...r..r..r..r

The Big Parade

Detroit to D.C. night train, Capitol, parts East. Lone young man takes
a
seat. And by the rhythm of the rails, reading all his mother's mail
from a
city boy in a jungle town postmarked Saigon. He'll go live his
mother's
dream, join the slowest parade he'll ever see. Her weight of sorrows
carried long and carried far. "Take these, Tommy, to The Wall."
Metro line to the Mall site with a tour of Japanese. He's wandering
and
lost until a vet in worn fatigues takes him down to where they belong.
Near
a soldier, an ex-Marine with a tattooed dagger and eagle trembling, he
bites
his lip beside a widow breaking down. She takes her Purple Heart,
makes a
fist, strikes The Wall. All come to live a dream, to join the slowest
parade
they'll ever see. Their weight of sorrows carried long and carried
far,
taken to The Wall.
It's 40 paces to the year that he was slain. His hand's slipping down
The
Wall for it's slick with rain. How would life have ever been the same
if this
wall had carved in it one less name? But for Christ's sake, he's been
dead
over 20 years. He leaves the letters asking, "Who caused my mother's
tears,
was it Washington or the Viet Cong?" Slow deliberate steps are
involved.
He takes them away from the black granite wall toward the other
monuments
so white and clean.
O, Potomac, what you've seen. Abraham had his war too, but an honest
war.
Or so it's taught in school

The Colonial Wing

here is the store house of Her Majesty
well guarded by sentry
but looks are free

call this the rayless and benighted age
witches by tallow candles shifted
shifted their shapes
here is the pestle and mortar
that ground the poison seed
a lute, a suit for jousting
and the poems of a balladeer
when all the Latin books were copied off
in golden script
well hoarded away in
a monastery crypt

superstition
superstition beyond belief

over mountain, over dune and over sea
crude map and compass lead the caravan
and lead the fleet
here's the loot and plunder
they bore home
ivory tusk inlaid with precious stone
raw silk and spices by the barrel load
a soft skin drum with mallets
of human bone

a world wide rampage
rampage of greed

so here the tour concludes
The Colonial Wing
the rooms of the most refined
museum property
an early pair of spectacles
a claw footed divan
ornate clocks with birds that strut
on the half hours and quarter hours

hear them chime

The Earth Pressed Flat

Detroit, L.A., Boston, San Francisco,
first time o'er the ocean on a plane a billion stars below me lay,
circle slowly JFK,
so much there to see inside of a week they came looking for something new
try to press it flat inside of a few days Old Dominion Saturday,
Arlington's eternal flame Sunday tour Niagara Falls in the mist.
Monday I'll be heading south New Orleans the Cajun sound
Tuesday's Tupelo Elvis's home . . .
try to press it flat inside of a few days what a wonderful stay,
on a mule Grand Canyon ride on Wednesday,
hope to get to Denver in a day Friday ride to Washington,
in the glacial mountain sun hop a train for Canada
to the east they came looking for something new
try to press it flat inside of a few days what a wonderful stay

The Latin One

Bent double like old beggars in sacks
Knockkneed and cursing or coughing like hags Men marched on sleeping
some without boots Fatigue drunken deaf still to the hoots Of breaking
gas shells Dropping softly behind But limped on bloodshod All went
lame all went blind Gas gas quick boys fumbling helmets in time
Someone still screaming a man in fire or lime Under a grey cloud dim
dark through green light In all my dreaming before my helpless sight
He plunges at me Choking guttering drowning Put in a wagon he had to
keep pace As his eyes melt to his face If you could hear blood
Gurgling from ruptured lungs If you could witness Vile sores on
innocent tongues You would not tell me Not with such pride and such
zest The lies of history Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori Some
desperate glory Pro patria mori As witness disturbs the story Pro
patria mori Stand firm boys breathe the glory

The Lion's Share

Can I be unhappy? Look at what I see: a beast in furs and crowned in luxury.
He's a wealthy man in the poorest land, a self-appointed king, and there's
no complaining while he's reigning. The lambs are bare of fleece and cold;
the lion has stolen that, I'm told. There must be some creature mighty as
you are. The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lion's
share. There must be some creature mighty as you are.
Can I be unhappy? Listen and agree, no words can shame him or tame him.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, I'm told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are. The lambs go hungry (not fair),
the biggest portion is the lion's share. There must be some creature mighty
as you are, as you are.
Razor claws in velvet paws, you dunce in your guarded home, 'til a stronger
beast will call on you and pounce upon your throne.
Do we pay? Dearly, for the lion takes so greedily and he knows that what
he's taken, it is ours. That's how the wealth's divided among the lambs and
king of the beasts, it is so one-sided. Until the lamb is king of the beasts
we live so one-sided

The Painted Desert

The Painted Desert can wait till summer.
We've played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I'm sure the rains have ended, the blooms have gone,
everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there in every roadside stand
where the big deal is cowboy gear won in Japan?

The Painted Desert can wait till summer.
We've played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I'm sure the rains have ended and the blooms have gone,
everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there upon the Northern rim
or in the ruins of the Hopi mesa dens?

You met a new friend in the Canyon, or so you wrote.
On a blanket in the cooling sand you and your friend agreed that
the stars were so many there they seemed to overlap.

The Painted Desert can wait till summer.
We've played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I am sure the rain has ended, the blooms have gone,
everyone killed by the morning frost.
Was a cactus blooming there as you watched the Native boy?
In Flagstaff trailer court, you wrote the line:
"He kicked a tumbleweed and his mother called
him home where the Arizona moon met the Arizona sun."

I wanted to be there by May at the latest time.
Isn't that the plan we had or have you changed your mind?
I haven't read a word from you since Phoenix or Tucson.
April is over will you tell me how long before I can be there

These Days

 [ Jackson Browne ]

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking these days
these days, these days I seem to think a lot
about the things that I forgot to do for you
and all the times I had the chance to

I had a lover
well I don't think I'll risk another these days
these days if I seem to be afraid to live the life
that I had made in song
well it's just, it's just that I've been losing so long

looong...well....

I stop my dreaming
I won't do too much scheming these days
these days, these days I sit on cornerstones
and count the time quarter to's 'til ten, my friend
please don't confront me with my failures
I have not forgotten them

Time Turns

I saw time turn
so much there to unlearn,
you were envy you wouldnt say
you tore heart strings that sorry day
dark light hid the tears one
for each of the years
love has reasons
reason never knows
time turns over
love overflows
I should have spoken
sooner on that sorry day
your arms are open
and I wondered why
wondered why
five years passed to the day
time heals some people
say when you hurt the ones
I love youre also hurting
me and time turns over
turning you from me
I thought youd never reach me
on that sorry day
your arms were open wide
and I wondered why

To Sir With Love

Those schoolgirl days of telling tales and biting nails are gone. But in my mind I know they will still live on and on. But how do you thank someone who's taken you from crayons to perfume? It isn't easy, but I'll try.
If you wanted the sky I would write across the sky in letters that would soar a thousand feet high, 'To Sir, With Love'.
Those awkward years have hurried by, why did they fly away? Why is it, sir children grow up to be people one day? What takes the place of climbing trees and dirty knees in the world outside? What is there for you I can buy?
If you wanted the world I'd surround it with a wall. I'd scrawl these words with letters ten feet tall, 'To Sir, With Love'.
The time has come for closing books and long last looks must end. And as I leave I know that I am leaving my best friend. A friend who taught me right from wrong, weak from strong, that's a lot to learn. What can I give you in return?
If you wanted the moon I would try to make a start. But I would rather you let me give my heart, 'To Sir, With Love'.