everything's impossible

up in the morning
from the wrong side of the bed
it feels so good to sleep
but you have to go to work instead
you want to speak your mind
but there ain't nothing to say
everything's impossible
but you do it anyway

Those might-have-been moments

I'm baa-ack! Just in time for hot, hot weather with no air conditioning.

It does get pretty miserable, farmboy.

I know, man. I try to be in denial about it -- like saying it's not really hot until it reaches over 95 degrees. But the news is saying it's going to be as hot as 99 degrees. 

That's hot.

That's fuckin' hot, if you ask me. At least there's not the humidity here that there was when I lived in Austin, Texas. Even though I had air conditioning in Austin. You kind of have to have it when you live in Texas.

I still love Austin, though. What a great city! 

I've heard that. Austin has an amazing reputation.

Oh, man, the smartest thing I ever did -- other than write songs and play guitar -- was move to Austin. 

Not that it's bad here in the Pacific Northwest. But, still, if I had to choose, Austin is a better city. I'm sure it's better than most cities, actually.

Do you regret moving here, farmboy?

Oh, no, because I have met some great people and made great friends here -- as I did in Austin. Also, there's my brother and his wife and my niece. 

It's life, you know. You never know what goes on in those might-have-been moments. It's just good to fuckin' be alive sometimes, you know?

Nothing serious

Hey.

Hey, farmboy! How's the dog-sitting going?

All is good. Annie the dog is wonderful to be around. She so happy and so friendly. It's wonderful to be around her.

Been reading, playing guitar, listening to music and podcasts, writing. Writing can be so fuckin' frustrating, you know? I mean, I feel like I write constantly, but I'm not getting anything lasting out of it.

Just give it time, farmboy. It's all, as they say, part of the process.

I know, man. I just forgot yesterday and it dragged me down a little. But nothing serious.

That's good.

Yeah. Today's another day, man. 

Many words that begin with a C

So I'm gonna be gone for a couple of days. I'm house- and dog-sitting. Annie's a great dog and I really love being with her. Dogs, man, they're just the fuckin' best. I swear, I gotta get myself into some situation where I can live my life with a dog.

I think it would be good if you had a dog, farmboy. 

Yeah. I never really look at it as having a dog, you know, owning a dog. Being its master. I mean, shit, I don't want to be anybody or anything's fucking master.

How do you view your relationship with a dog, then?

Kinda like my guitar. We're co-conspirators, we're collaborators. Compadres. Many words that begin with a C.

I've never looked at it that way. I like it.

That's how I'd like to be treated if I were a dog.

Or anything else, for that matter.

Yeah, But especially dogs.

Spankin' the banjo

Man, I am so fuckin' sorry. I'm just becoming an asshole, a worse and worse friend. Here I have all the fuckin' time in the world and I isolate myself and don't see no one, well, fuck, man, I apologize. I am so sorry...

Whoa, farmboy! To use your verbal style, what the fuck is going on? Where is this coming from?

I just feel bad 'cause I haven't been around and I've barely talked to anybody since school let out. I've been smoking weed and hanging out on the internet and shit. 

I have, however, also been playing guitar, exercising, and writing. A lot of writing, man. 

Excellent, Smithers.

Who the fuck is "Smithers?"

On "The Simpsons."

Oh, yeah. I know him.

Anyway, I've been writing quite a bit. I still don't have a completed song I like, though.

Are you going back and looking at what you've written, farmboy?

No. And I need to. I don't know why I resist it. Except for maybe the fear that I haven't written anything worthwhile, you know?

I can imagine.

I'm gonna have to make myself look over that stuff. I'll never know what I have and don't have   if I don't look at it.

There could be something really good in there, farmboy. Or something that inspires something else.

Yeah, I like to think of it as stealing from myself. Musical masturbation. Spankin' the banjo...

But I know what you mean, man. So I will make myself look at all that stuff.

Good. I think you may be surprised.

Maybe, dude. You never know.

tugboat

with all the time I have wasted
cursing my disgusting life
I could have worked
and bought a tugboat
and sailed around the world twice
so let me tell you, children
listen up to this advice:
the sun will still come up
tomorrow

                                          

got more issues than national geographic

my mind's congested
like five o'clock traffic
I've got more issues
than national geographic
I've got more to confess
than a guilty ex-catholic
baby, what should I do?
get back on
that straight-and-narrow
put that whiskey
in a wooden wheelbarrow
I've got more love
than the boy who shoots the arrow
and I'm aiming it towards you

today my life is good

today my life is good
but no matter how hard I try
I can't fuckin' accept it
pisses me the fuck off
so now I'm angry
and now...
I'm feeling guilty
because my life is good
and I'm passing it by

my everyday life

I get up from bed in the morning
and each morning is always the same
coffee is perking
get ready for work and I
seek inspiration to start my day
I look at my face in the mirror
ain't I a sight for sore eyes?
this is my everyday life
this is my everyday life

water when I turn on the faucet 
light when I flip on a switch
breakfast to go
and I'm stubbing my toe
and I curse and complain
like a son of a bitch

this is what I do

I'm at the keyboard
reinventing the wheel
time and time again

this is what I do:
I see what I do and say 
no, this will not do

and I curse myself
and my own stupidity
and try again

Summer can be so fuckin' great

One more day at work, man. I don't think I'm gonna make it.

Wow. (mumbles under his breath) Just think if you only got two weeks of vacation like every other working person.

What's that, you say?

Nothing, farmboy. One more day, eh? You're almost there. Then two months of being a lazy person.

Well, I'm already a lazy person. You know, I will be working this summer. It just won't be at the fucking school, you know? I'll be playing music for kids in hospitals. I'll be teaching guitar. I'll be taking care of my niece two or three days a week. And it may be a challenge making enough money.

You're off to a good start, or at least it sounds like it.

I hope so, man. Summer can be so fuckin' great, you know?

It's my favorite time of year.

Man, it's just awesome. Ain't nothing like it.

verse without a song

I turned right at hard work
veered left at ambition
circled around employment
and drove straight into trouble

I want words

I want words
to tell you
what you mean to me
but they won't come
they never do
I want words
to tell you
you will soon be free
but you were never mine
I know it's true

I just don't fuckin' want to

Man, it's so fuckin' tough. Today was the last day at school for students, so I'm kinda in this celebratory mood. But I still have things to do, and I just don't fuckin' want to, you know.

I can relate. We all can relate. What I usually do is perform the tasks that need performing and then celebrate. What do you think, farmboy?

I'm trying to do just that. It's hard, though. I have this weird resistance to it.

But I know you're right. I'll enjoy life a whole lot more if I just get all this shit out of the way.

And what shit, specifically, are you talking about?

Just the regular disciplines I have, you know, writing and practicing and exercising and eating fruits and vegetables and...

You might want to start with just one discipline at a time.

Yeah, I know. I'll start with writing. And then I'll move on from there.

long time departed

poster of Louis
taped to the bathroom wall where
I think about dreams

long time departed
so many disappointments
I'm afraid to dream

any more. it's too
dangerous and I don't have
the hope I used to

I can no longer
chance a risky gamble
I feel invisible

but maybe I'm wrong
and maybe I'm not through yet
and it's not too late

One little kernel

You know what I need to do, man?

I have no idea, farmboy. What do you need to do?

You making fun of me?

Of course not. 

Good.

So what do you need to do, farmboy?

I think I need to go back and read all the song fragments I've written in the past year or so. I've just been writing and writing and just casting it aside. I mean, I'm sure a lot of it is just fuckin' awful, man. But maybe there's some stuff I can work on.

Sounds good to me, farmboy. It's a good idea. You have been writing a lot, and if there's just something...

Yeah, like one little kernel of...well, inspiration. If I can sound so pretentious.

It's not pretentious.

Thanks. I hate sounding pretentious.

Anyway, I'll take a look into some things. I'll let you know if anything turns up.

bob's blues

he looked like a rabbi
and he played the blues
on a hubcap steel guitar
I know you've never heard of him
but to me he was a star

dear Wendy

dear Wendy
how's it going? 
how've you been?
I hope that you and Kenneth
are doing fine
I just thought I'd write
and see what's new with you
I know
it's been a long, long time

I'm okay here
I've made a few friends
I work at a high school
I guess it's all right
I don't go out much
I read a lot of books
cheap autobiographies
on a Saturday night

she looked like Betty Grable

I make sure she takes her pills
I fill the box on the kitchen table
I put the meds in plastic boxes
arranged in day and time
I've heard that many quick years ago
she looked like Betty Grable 
in her salad days in Hollywood
before she had hit her prime

she tells me all her stories
about when she'd turn the soldiers' faces
with long legs in black high heels
down in San Diego Bay

cancel my subscription to the blues

if I could flip a switch
if I could take a pill
if I could toss a coin
across a window sill
I would do my best
I'd surely pass the test
I know I'd stand out
above all the rest
but for some reason
I continue to lose
(please help me)
cancel my subscription to the blues

on Wyoming time

met a girl on a Greyhound bus
she lived on Wyoming time
she touched my cheek with her fingers
and said
I think you're exactly my kind
and she didn't mean nothing
that was selfish or cruel
and she didn't treat me
like I was some farmboy fool
she was an exception to the rules
I believed I had to obey
but I was blind
now I'm living on Wyoming time

Help me out

I'm depressed, man. I haven't exercised today, I haven't played guitar tonight, I haven't written, and I spent too much money at the grocery store which means that my miserable life is gonna collapse and I can't do a fuckin' thing about it. Help me out.

Sure, farmboy. What do you want me to do?

Ummm...make everything better?

It doesn't work that way, farmboy. When there's work involved, you have to do the work yourself. This is your life, you pay your own way.

Well, that fuckin' sucks, don't it?

But wait! If this is my life, then I get to make the rules, right? And so I'm making the rule that I can take a break when I need a break.

That's fine, farmboy. You make the rules. You accept the responsibility also.

I can do that, man. That's fine. It's just that I'm tired and depressed and I'd like a break. That's not too much to ask now, is it?

You tell me. You're the one making the rules.

Okay, I'm taking a break. And I'm feeling guilty about it.

I figured you would.

Yeah. But I'm still taking the fuckin' break, man.

scarecrow

stuck here in this cornfield
under the late August sun
stuck here in this field
under the late August sun
waiting for the harvest to come
hallelujah
waiting for the harvest to come

old black crow
turn and go
back from where come from
I know
there's a hell below
and the trial has begun
I'm just waiting for the harvest to come
hallelujah
waiting for the harvest to come

By myself in a Greyhound bus

Hey, man, thought I'd check in.

Hey, farmboy. I've been wondering where you went.

I've been writing a lot. I'm not sure what I've got but I've got stuff I can at least check over to see if there's anything I can fuckin' work with.

Volume.

Volume. I've got a fuckin' truckload full of stuff. Not literally, I mean...

I know what you mean. That can be a good place to work from. Explore what you've been writing. There may be some good work in there.

I'm hoping so. If nothing else, I like that writing has become a kind of discipline for me. It helps me to take myself and my goals seriously. Otherwise I'll just fuckin' dump on them all the time. And that's no good, you know? 'Cause I know that I'm capable of accomplishing some good things. I know this. I wouldn't have moved to Texas or recorded CDs or travelled across the United States and Canada by myself in a Greyhound bus. It takes...well, it takes something to do that stuff. I mean, not that it's all that great, but for me...

You know, your writing might lead you places someday, farmboy.

God, I hope so. But if it doesn't I would still feel privileged to be able to be creative in music. That's the important thing for me to remember. Just by living a life in music, it's like I won the big door prize, you know?

witness stand

standing at the witness stand
government bible beneath your hand
go ahead
testify against the truth
there's a lot of money to be found
when you bury your conscience underground
go ahead
hide the living proof

tonight

you're looking at me
like you got something to prove
you're looking at me
like you just might make your move
you're looking at me
as if I've never found my groove
you may be right
but I know that I'm not wrong
tonight

you're talking to me
like I don't know the English language
you're walking to me
as if I could undo the damage
but I can't find
any tools in all this baggage
all right?
all I know is I'm on hold
tonight

old days on the mountain

in the old days on the mountain
it was different then
you could meet a stranger
who'd become your closest friend

in the old days on the mountain
it hardly ever was a drag
you could wake up naked
in someone else's sleeping bag

in the old days on the mountain
there was alcohol and pot
and you'd be staring at the moon
more often than not

it ain't like that today
all those good time charlies
have been driven away
from those nights when the stars
were too many for counting
in the old days on the mountain