well, it's 3x8 and five feet deep
we'll get no rest, 'cause death don't sleep
they're piling up at the morgue on the other side of town
so pick them shovels up boys and get 'em in the ground

old man carson lived a fairly long life
that seemed a little too long after the mrs. died
so he cut a length of rope, walked out to the barn
now their side by side again down in the cemetery lawn

my good friend chet had a real fast car
not a hot rod for miles could beat that 440 dodge
there wasn't much left (he should've never tried to pass)
except an 8 ball shifter with his hand still attached

our backs are always hurtin, but we never complain
not when it's ten below freezing or in the pouring down rain
we'll make your death bed a place that you'll be proud to lie
we'll tuck you in with dirt and pack it down right

dying whispers through the haze
the ghosts of lonely serenade
where more than sameness has no chance of ever leaving
satellites you can't escape, the conversations that never break
never silent, never alone, but always lonely

These murder scenes always in the back of your mind
no sight unseen, no matter how hard you try
to look away, to try and unlearn
the wrecking ball will have its turn and no one will say we don't get what we deserve

transmissions choke the air
billboard eyes with coffin stares
birds of spring make your return, though no one would ever blame you
eagles rest on power lines
the seasons can't make up their minds
north or south, it's all the same when the scenery is painted

some fragments remain of past collisions

headlight lamps, telephone pole splinters

you take your life in your hands everytime you walk out the door

think I'll slow myself down, think I'll slow myself down

friends that were lost while travelling this way

I can't help but wonder what you'd be like at this age

happiness and pain sometimes feel the same

you have to stop and look around

still some beauty can be found in this wicked world

(chorus) take no photographs   the past is past today remains

today remains

every landing is a good one that you walk away from

every day there's a chance it could be the last one

call your mother and father, tell them you're on your way home

there's no time to fuck around

the crows are gathering the fields of battle have quieted down

(repeat chorus)

It's expected that not every gig will be the greatest. There are so many factors involved in a gig's success. So when I have a bad night, I'm never quite sure what the exact problem is. Did I play badly? Does the audience prefer hearing songs they already know? Is the audience even there to hear live music? Or are they there to get their coffee and get out? Who the fuck knows?

All I know is that when I'm at a bar or coffee house where there is someone performing, I do my best to acknowledge their efforts. A clap when they finish a song, a buck or two in the tip jar. After all, it's a person putting forth some effort to create something, to leave the comfort of their home and put themselves out there.

So when people walk right past me without giving a nod, don't clap, or even look up when a song is finished.........I'm not sure what to think. How should I interpret this kind silence? It may have nothing to do with my performance, but it sure does get to me.

The thing is, after I played "one of the worst gigs of my life", I got up the next morning and wrote my best song yet. Hopefully I'll remember that next time I have crappy gig.

Keep creating ya'll.

 

And I'm still going to love

though, mathmatically, love just never adds up

And I'm still going to dream

even though, financially, it has never brought me anything

'Cause if you don't you might as well die

if you don't then the bad guys win

don't let them dull down your fight, don't ever give in

And I'm still going to try

even when logic and reason would tell me otherwise

I hope that when push comes to shove

I won't sell out my dreams, my success will be measured in love

'Cause you know that I'd rather die

Then to change who I am to fit in

if you do what your heart says is right

you always win

I'm the thoughts in my head, my unlikely dreams

What I feel and what I look like are two completely different things

You mistake my kindness for weakness and that's something I can't excuse

Why must you run all over me? I never run all over you.

I'm bad with numbers and worse with names. When I forget it's too soon. When I remember it's too late. And this mind that is mine...Well, it just doesn't listen to me.

I feel at home when I'm alone, more in touch when I'm just out of reach

(Chorus)

You can run real far away. Wake every day in a different place.

But the sun can't shine, everywhere and all the time. No flower grows so bright without a day or two of rain.

I believe this is all a part of some greater plan. Mostly, I'm grateful. Believe me when I say I am.

But this feeling shit gets old and thinking is overrated. 

The devil waits to take my soul. I try my best lord, but I just can't seem to shake him.

I've never met a dog that I didn't like. Or a pretty girl that I didn't want for mine.

I've had my heart broke in two, other times I've been the one to do the breaking.

Some regrets, but happiness happens less the less chances you take.