Monthly Archives: January 2006

Checkered Flag

Rodney Jones left this town while he could still buy the gas
Told the factory boys out on the state route they could kiss his ass
Didn’t know where he was going, but he was damn sure travelin’ fast
Figured out that stayin’ here, there’s no way he would last

Rodney had ambition, but not a lot of social grace
He could see the future clearly, but not the nose upon his face
Thought the only key to winning was just showin’ for the race
Never thought of consequences, never thought of second place.

All he ever wanted was a straight road and the fuel
All he ever recognized was overheat and cool
All he ever studied was the way to break the rules
Rodney Jones, he never played the fool.

Rodney hit the circuit in his homemade muscle car
Talked his way onto the track by starting in the bar
Didn’t know which road he’d taken, but he knew he’d traveled far
Figured it was gonna happen, he was gonna be a star.

Rodney lost a tire on the second straightaway
Lost control for the first time, and saw the wall give way
Says he don’t remember much, but his eyes they seem to say
“Don’t tell anyone I couldn’t handle it that day.”

All he ever wanted was a waving checkered flag
All he ever recognized was pressure and the drag
All he ever studied was the polish and the rag
Rodney Jones thought it was in the bag.

Rodney Jones came home today in a big motorcade
Everybody’s talking about him, and the splash he made
Never knew the dice were loaded, or the game it was he played
Now he’s lying ‘neath a yellow flag and marble, in the shade.

All he ever wanted was an engine and the tools
All he ever recognized was gamblers and the mules
All he ever studied was the gauges and the fuel
Rodney Jones, he never played the fool.

Summer 1998

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What’s My Name?

What’s my name?
You may have seen it in the papers
Saw the lines ’round my face
and you read about my latest capers

What’s my name?
It’s on everybody’s lips
Who’s hip, who’s tripped, who’s slipped,
who’s got a case of the vapors

What’s my name?
It’s on the cover of a magazine
And the headlines read “Is He Live or Dead?”
“Is it him you think you might have seen?”

What’s my name?
Maybe you just can’t remember
Because I’m not someone toting a gun,
or dating Miss September

It doesn’t matter if you can’t recall
Sometimes it’s safer in a faceless crowd
When I think of all the stupid things we believe
We may be learning, but we’re not too proud
To put it off until tomorrow.

What’s my name?
You may have read it in the Bible
A fine line on the sign of the times
between obscenity and revival

What’s my name?
It’s on a billboard ’round the corner
A poster child for the wild and wooly side
against which parents try to warn you

What’s my name?
Maybe I can’t even tell you
Except as part of a slogan for some new product
I’m trying to sell you

It doesn’t matter if you can’t decide
Sometimes it’s better if you just don’t know
When I think of all the stupid things we believe
We might be better off digging a hole…
I guess I’ll start that tomorrow.

Memphis, Summer 1992

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Insomnia Redux

Would that this night provide some small respite,
sweet sleep instead of wisps of restless dream;
but like a spring o’er-wound and pulled too tight,
my mind finds no repose. Each small sound seems

a thunderclap that echoes in the dark
and leaves behind a wake that does not fade,
while every thought like striking flint brings sparks
that catch in flame acts due from plans unmade.

In restless times as these, creative souls
are said to find stray inspiration loosed,
and in somnambulence descry the whole,
that waking, they may put to greater use;

but I find not epiphany, just ache
that grows with each new moment still awake.

27 JAN 2006

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It’s Only Dancing

I don’t even know your name;
it’s not important you know mine.
But since you’re sitting there alone,
I’d like a minute of your time.

It may seem forward, I’ll admit;
I’ll understand if you refuse.
But you look like you might agree,
so what have I got to lose?

It’s only dancing, it won’t do any harm;
two minutes and thirty three seconds pretending in each other arms.
It’s no long term commitment to true love and romancing;
just a spin on the floor for a song, nothing more.
It’s only dancing.

I don’t know the latest moves,
but I’ve heard this old song before;
and every time it starts to play,
they seem to fill up the dance floor.

I may not be your type at all;
I’ll understand if you say no.
But something in your eyes tonight
tells me you might just have a go.

It’s only dancing, doesn’t need to lead somewhere;
two minutes thirty three seconds pretending the world isn’t there.
It’s no prelude to forever, or the start of romancing;
just some turns on the floor for a while, nothing more.
It’s only dancing.

I don’t want to lead you on;
I’m not expecting any action.
But we both came in here alone,
probably could use the distraction.

It may seem an odd request;
I’ll understand if you decline.
But as long as we’re both here,
we might as well have a good time.

It’s only dancing, it’s not anything wrong;
two minutes and thirty three seconds together enjoying this song.
It’s no ever after, no foolish romancing;
just a spin on the floor for a spell, nothing more.
It’s only dancing.

22 JAN 2006

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Hello Mister America

Hello Mister America, you’re just in time for tea
There’s no Kennedys or Rockefellors, so I guess it’s just you and me
I’ve got soda crackers instead of crumpets, but I think you’ll agree
We’ve got to watch the deficit ’cause sugar sure ain’t free

Sit down, Mister America, I heard you weren’t feeling well
Your constitution’s been weakening and your ratings have gone to hell
And that bill of rights you stand for, is it just a hollow shell?
Does it mean as much to you now that it really doesn’t sell?

Well now, Mister America, how’s God been treating you?
Do you feel closer to Him now that the Senate seats are pews?
Do you still serve the Catholics, Atheists, the Baptists and the Jews
By singing the un-separation of the church and statehouse blues?

Hey now, Mister America I have to tell the truth
I hardly recognized you from inside your voting booth
I realize that television can rob you of your youth
But substance outlives style, so I am sure that you’ll recoup

OK, Mister America I have to say goodbye
Don’t make me any promises, ’cause I know you hate to lie
Just help me get a loan so I can keep my powder dry
‘Cause my enemies aren’t overseas, they’re right before my eyes

So long, Mister America, I won’t tell them you got lost
And I’ll be steady, strong and true in summer and in frost
Just do your part and keep the constitution reinforced
‘Cause if you forget your principles, then who could count the cost?

Mister America, I think you knew my dad
He worked your land, he fought your wars
He taught me good from bad
Mister America, do you know who I am?
I’m your younger generation you think doesn’t give a damn.

1990

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Road Going Nowhere

On the south side of the road going nowhere
Winter wind letting the chill into my bones
Standing tall, as if I don’t care,
Acting like I’m supposed to be there
As if lost highways had a need to be somebody’s home

Nothing much out there for miles, only horizon
And power lines above that stretch on out of sight
Standing still, as if my motion
Would hurt the sky with its commotion
As if I could change the world but didn’t have the right

If you wonder if I’m leaving
How you’ll know when I am gone
Look for the ripple left behind me
on the surface of the pond

If you want to know the reason
Why nothing golden seems to last
Know that each thing has its season
And fades away when its time is passed.

On the south side of a road leading nowhere
Winter sun setting slowly over a hill
Standing here, as if I’m growing
Acting like there’s no place else to be going
As if I could stop the world just by being stiil

Nothing out there for miles in all directions
Just the echo from an airplane high overhead
Standing still, as its reflection
Fades slowly beyond all detection
As if the last word in a book no longer read.

If you wonder if I’m leaving
How you’ll know when I am gone
Look for the ripple left behind me
on the surface of the pond

If you want to know the reason
Why nothing golden seems to last
Know that each thing has its season
And fades away when its time is passed.

18 JAN 2006

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Firm Foundation

A note to whom it may concern:
fortunes may change, and tables turn,
adversity may try and get you down.
The world is often hard and cruel,
it makes the wisest men just fools,
and fashions from its gold a thorny crown.

The more you try to get ahead
The more you find yourself misled
by summer confidants and so-called friends;
and when your health and money’s gone,
the bread and circuses move on.
There’s only one thing on which to depend:

Build your house on a firm foundation,
look for rock buried under the sand,
find a place for your roots right beneath your old boots,
and connect to the place where you stand.
It will improve your whole situation
though in ways you might not understand;
’cause the universe works in mysterious ways
and fate laughs at those who make big plans.
Let your word be the code that you live by,
let your hand lend itself where there’s need;
and despite of the strife that comes throughout this life
You’ll have true happiness guaranteed.

A note to whom it may affect:
misfortune comes, and through neglect
the strongest love may turn to bitter hate.
The world is strange and can be wild,
it turns a man into a child
who doesn’t grow up until it’s too late.

The more you try to find your way
The more you’re tempted, led astray
by soft illusions that too soon are gone,
and then your life has come and went.
Be sure your time is more well spent;
invest in something you can depend on:

Build your house on a firm foundation,
look for rock buried under the sand,
find a place for your roots right beneath your old boots,
and connect to the place where you stand.
It will improve your whole situation
though in ways you might not understand;
’cause the universe works in mysterious ways
and fate laughs at those who make big plans.
Let your word be the code that you live by,
let your hand lend itself where there’s need;
and despite of the strife that comes throughout this life
you’ll have true happiness guaranteed.

16 JAN 2006

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