Monthly Archives: August 2012

Someone let the Wolf in

Someone let the wolf in,
and he’s hungry this time.
Black mottled fur, charcoal eyes,
teeth whiter than a cuttle fish bone.
He’s ragged and scarred,
but lean, cunning and savage.

Someone let the wolf in,
he didn’t huff and he didn’t puff.
He didn’t have to blow the house down.
Now searching through the den,
starving eyes and death’s intent,
guided by the trail of the scent.

Someone let the wolf in,
now he’s resting peacefully.
Curled up in little Bobby’s bed,
with a great big smile on his lips.
Red, red sprayed on all the walls,
he’d gorged to his heart’s content.

Someone let the wolf in,
He wasn’t anyone’s grandmother.
He didn’t dress in a bonnet or gown.
Now he’s fat and comfortable
Always a humbling position
To find yourself in the end.

Someone let the wolf in,
he was sleeping when they found him.
They covered their ears,
but he never heard the bang.
The wolf kept on sleeping,
happy in that bed.


A ladybug landed on my bank card
While I was in park at the a.t.m
And down on the banks of the river
The moon hangs low in dusky blue skies
As an enormous half-eaten tangerine
Descending slowly in the west

I swear I saw you once before
I know I recognize your face
I’ve chased you down for so long
In my dreams and down city streets
Oh please don’t be make believe

A ladybug landed on my bank card
While I was stood in queue at the a.t.m
And later when I came out of the cinema
I was standing there without an umbrella
Soaked to the bone from the pouring rain
But happy endings, they’ll never bore me

Harmonica Man

Bright and sunny day, could you carry a tune?
I don’t believe we’ve met, not down at the saloon
I’ll ride in on my horse to search for the buried gold
One thousand times over I’ve been bought and sold

Vultures circling round my high noon scorching sun
The last possession on me, my tried and trusted gun
Out here in the sun and desert and shadowed by cacti
I lay my hat on my chest, not sure if I’ll live or I’ll die

Harmonica man, it’s been so goddamned long
Sing the blues, man, to comfort all of our wrongs
Harmonica man, won’t you play us all a song?

Quick draw, shot him down, but took a bullet too
It’s all I’ve got in this broken body to pull through
Beyond bleached skulls, there’s a lush oasis I see
It’s just a mirage, and I reach for my skin of whiskey

Harmonica man, it’s been so goddamned long
Harmonica man, won’t you play us all a song
Harmonica man, help me get through this battle
Harmonica man, help me get back in the saddle

Sing the blues, man, to comfort all of our woes
Harmonica man, that’s the way a western life goes

Witches, Devils and Heroes

Broken glass and bare feet
A walk across burning coals
A trek across any surface
To find what makes you whole

Afflicted with a mark that itches
Don’t pick the scab, it won’t heal
While the dark hooded witches
Will surely question your steel

Cast an eye over your shoulder
As their incantations will begin
The world around starts to feel colder
While a lonely aging traveler grins

Leading you through crystal caves
Moving deeper inside the earth
With trials you acquiesce to brave
One day a man must prove his worth

Of sharpened steel and forged metal
Take your sword and raise your shield
A crushing blow rained upon their skulls
The enemy’s fate had been all but sealed

Now in terror watch the witches flee
In all directions with eyes that are crazed
Some fall to their knees to make a plea
But all of their bodies must be razed

Pile the corpses in the funeral pyre
Escape the sorcery and this black magic
Floats to the stars as the flames grow higher
Smiles the man with the devil’s walking stick

Pry on your insecurity and weakness
And devise a way to ravage your heart
Staring down to the bottom of the abyss
As the fabric of life becomes torn apart

The cracks widen and you can’t claw
Lose footing, as evil gazes down and laughs
Cut through your spine like a buzz saw
A misstep, a wrong turn, your final gaffe

Captured in chains and tied to the rack
Locked in the dungeon and nowhere to go
His light soon to be eclipsed to pitch black
A most fitting end for this failed hero

Bright Light

Two yellow lines merge as one
Beneath sodium vapor orange haze
And behind ember red tail signals
The head dips in a cold, cold sweat
Rests on the wheel with heavy eyes
Fading to darkness under the night
Come on climb into the bright light

Two orange flames merge as one
Beneath the wail of singing sirens
And through flashing red signals
It picks the lock and slides inside
In the mind it roots into the soil
Pushing to darkness under its might
Come on climb into the bright light

Wooden tendrils grasp at one
Beneath the world in fiery depths
Before a council born of guilt
The head drops before the block
Rests in the basket with dancing eyes
Severed to darkness under its smite
Come on climb into the bright light

Wrong Number

I picked up my telephone
To hear you crying through static
Somewhere on the other end
Fiber optics and electricity
Have brought you closer to me
And darling, you sure sound lonely
I’d ask you to tell me what’s wrong
Tell me your entire sad story
But sorry love, wrong number

I watched you in technicolor
Graffiti splayed on concrete walls
Broken pavement, cracked sidewalks
Have brought you closer to me
And darling, you sure look lonely
Sitting on the curb with a broken heel
Mascara running down your cheeks
Oh, those eyes how they pull me in
Emerald and sparkling through tears

Last night I heard you calling
Words echoing off empty alley walls
Down desolate dimly lit highways
Abandoned lots with overgrown grass
Have brought you closer to me
And darling, you sure sound lonely
Seems like you could use a new friend
Give me a call and let your smile shine
But sorry love, wrong number


Am I awake?
Or have I been sleeping?
I found myself on the seaside
Gasping for air and running
Through the sand, as if
Lead weights were tied
Around my ankles.

Are you here?
Or do I just wish you were?
I found myself floating out
Among buoys and waves
Part of the flotsam, as if
I were the shipwreck
With no survivors.

Is this real?
Or just my imagination?
I found myself on a park bench,
Arm in arm with a lover
In the foreground, as if
We were being painted
And hung on the wall.

Are you packed?
Could I beg you stay?
I found myself in a hotel room,
Heart forced into a suitcase,
My soul left sitting there,
On the dresser, for the
Next occupant to use.

Am I awake?
Or have I been sleeping?
I found myself on the seaside,
Staring up at the stars,
In a moment that would last,
If only you would let it,
If only you would stay.