Daily Archives: August 2, 2006

Cajun Woman

for Starlight Dances

Looking for an answer, waiting on a clue,
making myself dizzy thinking up new things to do.
My cup runneth over; now it’s spilled out on the floor.
Making messes, I can do for sure.

Asking more fool questions, needing to know why,
making myself crazy searching for an alibi.
My life’s far from empty. Now, that much is true.
What’s the point in worrying, when all I need is you.

Cajun woman, what’s that cooking? It smells good to me.
Nothing else we need to do, nobody else to see.
All the spice we need in this life is right here at hand;
what else do we need to understand?
Cajun woman, kiss your lover man.

Searching for a guru, wanting some grand scheme,
making myself nervous somewhere unknown in between.
My front lawn needs mowing, that I guarantee;
What else right now could my purpose be?

Wanting ever after, somehow cheating death,
giving myself indigestion trying to hold my breath.
Who cares what might happen when my time is through?
Right now, baby, all I need is you.

Cajun woman, what’s that cooking in your bright red pot?
What do we care what the world thinks of the things we’ve got?
Everything we’ll ever need is right here in our hands;
what else do we need to understand?
Cajun woman, kiss your lover man.

02 AUG 2006

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Pop Charts

You wanna make it on the pop charts
Shrink-wrapped and sold just like a pop tart
Well, let me tell you: better get smart
it doesn’t matter if you’ve got heart

It doesn’t matter what you’re saying
and you don’t have to do the playing
Don’t take a seat, ’cause you ain’t staying
If the cash registers’ aren’t swaying

They’ll tell you it’s too complicated
or that your appeal’s understated
the boys in sales must be elated
to see your potential inflated

You wanna make it on the pop charts
Be the next big thing sold at Wal-Mart
Well, let me tell you, better get smart
Forget your brain and lock away your heart

It doesn’t matter what you’re saying
As long as stadium’s are swaying
They don’t have to know you’re not playing
Or that you’re prematurely graying

You’ll be the flavor for a short while
And then be left out on the trash pile
With nothing but a toothy, big smile
“So sorry, but you’re going out of style”

You want to make it on the pop charts
Be shrinked-wrapped and consumed like pop tarts
Well, let me tell you, better get smart
and find another path with some heart

It doesn’t matter what you’re saying
Or if you do none of your playing
It’s just an image you’re portraying
Don’t mind your bags, you won’t be staying.

02 AUG 2006

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