i kicked a boy

when the weather's fine, when it's sunny outside
think about the time I kicked a boy 'til he cried
oh, I could've been wrong, but I don't think I was
he was such a child

when I am alone, I remember so well
how merrily I tripped a boy so he fell
and I could've been wrong, but I don't think I was
he was totally wild

and I've been wondering lately
just who's gonna save me

now I have a cold, and no story to tell
and I'd marry you but I'm so unwell
and although I could've been wrong
well I don't think I was
he was totally wild

and I've been wondering lately
just who's gonna save me
you just should've been warned
our hysterical child
where'd you learn to do that

and I've been wondering lately
just who's gonna save me
you just should've been wise
oh hysterical child
where'd you learn to do that

-the sundays

things that break my heart

some things break my heart and there are not enough hours in the day to tell it
like the time she gave me her teddy bear hug him he's very sad you're leaving
twice two times, then quiet as she walks away, the 6 year old knows way too much her years are only beginning, but her body has seen everything, too much in it's days
like the blood she thinks is coming, and the adult man she's craving, and the little control she has over anything over anything

then there's the woman her three children, she's got these visions and illusions and her mother has forgotten everything thats been written and the father of this woman long dead in his grave cannot defend the memory though he's turning turning turning. the children are in fear what the hell is going on? and no one can control the hurricane that's brewing mom has lost her mind someone please help me and no we won't go so get that through your head

long lost sister who tells me she's still illin, still chillin though she's kicked the evil magic dragon. that one comes easy for me, she says and i'm supposed to praise her, i don't want to fall asleep she says i need another fix. trying to get her life on track but of course she's late to class, can't read music has no money, and i had to get off the phone. because it's the same story 13 years later. i tell myself i'm not the enabler or the victim. our passion for music and of course our blood it still ties us together. will always tie us together.

you know there is writing and there is music but somethings as we get older
sentiment and merriment existing and blurring together
i never went to church not even to tie the knot
but today i think it's the day, for these souls, or perhaps my own heart that breaks today i shall pray

the mission sf

the san fernando mission and she kneals down to pray
theres something in the water in the well down there today
it's 95F somewhere out here in the desert in the barren valley streets
and the bell rings its noon then the silence breaks
it's millions of people suffer and sacrifice to come here
the long way from central american cobble street mule seats

her long white dress it flows in the wind, she speaks of saint martin
who killed someone or found someones body or did some great thing
like letting Jesus' blood soak his shirt, his tears or sweat or some
masterful feat to accompany sainthood she shrieks when her carnage reaps her of this
brotherhood

the 101 freeway gliding swiftly past these streets, interstate 5 it weaves around
the blood has stained her fingers a memory she hates
and at the bottom of the north hills glaze terracota riffs and windy maze the freedom of los angeles awaits

her daughter winning winning her passion american film the son she never had fights freedom in her dreams
she walks home clutching her purse in one hand rosary the other and when the clocks strikes two she runs for shade.

drunk

i don't remember what was said today last night
you're worried because i haven't kept up with my duties
my household duties and my hair is unkempt
neglecting my face my nails my waste
er.. my waist
what a waste

i'm worried cuz your so lost in mid sentence as i so clearly answer your question
have you never known something so well within that you can only speak in tongues and riddles
your skin turns pale
the truth is ultimately hard to swallow,
just like your own drunk bile
or shit pile

so love me or leave me

because from this moment on none of the money career oriented helping profession matters anymore i don't care and i can think no more, the anger the fury has left me. the rock and roll has entered me completely, it has taken me. it shakes me and leaves me exhilerated. dizzy. my limbs feel crazy. i cannot control what i do from this moment on. my brain has ceased to work, and my mind is off duty. from here on out its heart heart heart. the music is in me.

new song

well i've finally come to claim my space, finally gonna denounce the last long days
finally gonna finish the book, finally gonna face the truth
danow danow danow

will you respect me in the face i'm in, respect me in the freedom game
danow danow danow

i don't want to follow you with your red hot blood body babay
danow danow danow

gorgeous water bugs

you seen one dirty city you've seen em all he cried that morning in Rome
he just wanted his home
wasn't he so much like that little boy that went crying to mom big rash on his soft face new orleans bayou water bug i ask, he says he was really young then
he rarely sulks and always manages to make things work by not lifting a finger, but every now and then he wonders but all answers escape him

she sits in her stylish white sports car tinted windows leather interior, long legs and a frown.
she's gonna be the belle of the ball tonight in her designer everything earrings
though she towers over the girls, she dare not wear heels for the men and she still gets starry eyed or hollywood mesmerized though there is culture and style somewhere in her mind in there, it comes out clearly effortlessly somedays, but most days she's looking cookie cutter cute and getting compliments swinging her hair around this way that way insulting herself fishing for a compliment because deep down she knows cute is a fleeting time-tested goal with a shelf life, and she wishes she could change the ways of the world to do her own thing.

you know she's a suburban working girl, married and moved there. no corporate accounts or anything but on the wagon and off the train, now the bridge and tunnel bi-curious straight girl. no shots of tequila but some remnants of betty page on her legs and feet still its a shame, because nice is nice and nice is brave but the lifestyle you choose will end up influencing your mind, your being. i know it far too well. the cookie cutter suburban will prevail her life. it already has.

even the city girl is on her same page bi-curious and simpleton and like i said nice is nice but i guess it's not enough to separate you from bessy and missy and messy. even though you say you're not, you've not yet demonstrated that much braveness

and the mean spirited city girl who started out as a small town girl, more like a sinister child who's seen everything in her dreams but somehow can't bring herself to open her mind of its rigidity rigidity her braveness gets washed down with force and it's been mostly envious to me, but somedays, like today I see past the facade.

still i watch them all strutting their stuff in their different Los Angeles styles the flashy flashy stylized iconic trend or the limo to the hollywood club or something hip and dirty and agree they look kinda beautiful in a cookie cutter catalog'd way but cannot help wonder where I went wrong how did I end up here in the midst of these gorgeous water bugs