a new dictionary (verse three)

my punctuation's awkward
verbs and nouns just won't agree
my participle's dangling
somewhere below my knees
but me, I got the answer
I know just what to do
hey, baby
I got a preposition for you

I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
'cause there ain't no words to describe
exactly what I'm thinking of

new dictionary (second verse)

some say love's an illusion
you never will forget
some say love's an excuse
for another cigarette
but let's talk in good english
and use fancy etiquette
you can be the subject
I'll be the predicate

I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
'cause there's no way to describe
exactly what I'm thinking of

new dictionary

I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
'cause there's no way to describe
exactly what I'm thinking of

some say love's an emotion
but we know that's absurd
if they knew what we're thinking
they'd be so disturbed
they'd pull out a thesaurus
look for a different word
but for us, love ain't a noun
it's a big ol' action verb

I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
I need a new dictionary
to find the words for our love
'cause there's no way to describe
exactly what I'm thinking of

you can't delete my feelings for you

you can unfriend me on your facebook
cancel all my tweets
keep me on your myspace
'cause we're both obsolete
you can ignore my blog on tumblr
be a little more discreet
but you can't delete my feelings for you

I fully intend to celebrate

So, Thursday...

Thursday? farmboy, you're way off. It's Saturday...

Oh, yeah, I know. Saturday, no work, sleep late, jerk off, all that Saturday stuff. 

No, what I'm talking about is Thursday, October 1, the first day that we can buy weed legally in Oregon. I'm thinking of it as a holiday, personally. And I fully intend to celebrate.

I would think so, farmboy.

It's about fuckin' time, but we both know that. It is good to see the good guys win, though. Seems like it never happens, even though I'm sure it happens more than we'll give it credit for.

So, will you been buying on Thursday?

I sure hope so. It is the day after payday. Funny how things work out, huh?

quonset hut

steel on the ceiling
steel on the wall
steel as the carpet
when you're walking down the hall
put them all together
and you know what?
you got yourself
a quonset hut

high school

this is a hard world
for the children who never fit in
for the ones picked last for basketball
and who feel ugly as sin
for the lonely and the lovesick
the math geeks and the fools
this is a hard hard world
when you're in high school

what I want right now

what I want right now
more than anything else
is to wake up in the bedroom of my childhood
and go the piano
and play out all the emotions
I have no words for

stubby fingers 
on plastic pads
on wooden keys:
a language I can understand

Change the channel

Man, I can't fuckin' wait until my life gets better. I've been working on it for a while, you know, walking and eating better and writing and practicing guitar and all that kind of good stuff. But sometimes I feel like I'm just getting so impatient.

Well, farmboy, it's hard. You've been working hard and you've made good headway. That's just the way it feels sometimes. You get discouraged but you keep on working and life gets better.

I know, but it sucks and I'm frustrated.

Get your mind on something else, farmboy.

I know. Change the channel, shake the etch-o-sketch. Sleep is good for that. So is reading. I'm, like, 200 and some pages into the new novel by Jonathan Franzen. 

How is it?

It's good. He's so readable. So maybe that's what I'll do tonight. Yeah, read. Or a podcast or something.

At any rate, we're talking about escapism here. And relaxation. Yeah, that's my excuse. I need to relax.

It's true, farmboy. You really do need to relax.

So here's to a night of make-believe. I need it. I've earned it. And I'm taking it.

Don't try to stop me.

helena, montana to bismarck, north dakota

helena, montana
to bismarck, north dakota
is a sad, sad ride
when you're driving all alone
I've got a full tank of gas
in this broken down toyota
and a question in my mind
if I'll ever get back home

when

when everything calms down
when we are not in a fuckin' crisis
when I'm not in a god-awful panic
when I make enough money
when luck finally goes my way
when the gods smile down on me
when the right party is in office
when I get a decent job
when I finally grow a thicker skin
when I get the inspiration
when the fuckin' ship comes in
when the moon is full
when opportunity knocks
when the stars align
when I am good and ready

I will get off my lazy ass
and do something

maybe

if I'm ever crying

if I'm ever crying
just ignore me
it's the same old story
that I always tell
don't feel bad 
for my childish emotions
it's just a drop in the ocean
of my heart's endless well

if I'm ever crying
look the other way
there's nothing left to say
but a whispered goodbye
there ain't no denying
I sure got hurt this time
good love poems never rhyme
even if they try

my truth

everything is going wrong
and I'm the one to blame
you can tell it by my history
it's in my Christian name

how to be a sloth

I am hoping
I am wishing
I am waiting
for something to begin
what I need to be is working
for something to happen
but I don't have any 
energy within
so I stay here 
crying and whining
about how life
is passing me by
but how can I move
when my mind is broken
and my spirit won't even try

everybody's

everybody's so proud of who they are
everybody's convinced they're right
and in this world of eternal darkness
everybody says they've found the light
and they want to shine on me
like a flashlight in front of my face
everybody wants to shine on me
light my way in the human race

everybody knows what's best for me
everybody knows I'm always wrong
and in this world of constant noise
I keep trying to sing a quiet song
but everybody wants to yell at me
scream my name in the middle of the night
everybody wants to yell at me
that nothing's ever gonna be all right

"Man, I Miss Mashed Potatoes"

I don't know what to fuckin' write, man. I haven't been wanting to write much lately because of the fuckin' job and I'm just fuckin' exhausted all the time.

You mean "all the fuckin' time," don't you?

I just figured that was a given.

Yeah, so, as I was fuckin' saying, I'm tired. And the only idea I have is a song called "Man, I Miss Mashed Potatoes." Don't ask me why.

Hey, farmboy! Why?

I said don't ask me that.

Which is why I did.

I know.

I'm just trying to make you laugh.

I'm too tired to laugh.

So then...go to bed.

I think I may. Put on a podcast or something.

Good idea, farmboy.

Yeah, I'm full of 'em.'Night, man.

starlings

I hope I always remember:
the whole wheat bagels I bought at Target
were inedible
so I destroyed them.
I tossed the crumbs on my father's lawn
and, as if called by some inaudible dinner bell,
a whole mess of starlings
one after another
emerged from the shelter
of a big old tree.
there must have been, say,
sixty or seventy of them
and they were so (I hate to say it) fuckin' cute,
these little balls of fluff and feathers.

I hope I always remember:
feeling like a child
in my wonder of the world

you used to be

you used to be
someone I believed in
you used to be
the meaning of true
you used to be
my only real reason
you used to be
somebody I thought I knew
yeah, you
you know you used to be

school bus stops

school bus stops
children walk
parents wave goodbye
time will not obey
time won't even try
and you know that's okay
ain't nothing you can do
but keep your eyes wide open
and pointed right in front of you

Care of myself

Thank God it's finally the weekend, man. I haven't been talking about it because I hate talking about my fuckin' job, but there's been these changes at work and life has been super stressful for the past three weeks.

But, anyway, it's the weekend! Time for marijuana and fun food and guitar playing whenever I want. 

Are you going to go out, farmboy?

I dunno, man. I mean, I'm gonna have to go buy groceries at some point. And I'll probably do that. But I need some time to take care of myself, which means sleep and music and writing and reading and listening to podcasts. 

Nothing wrong with that.

No, not at all. I fuckin' earned it this week, man.

the day before Friday

the day before Friday
isn't as good as Friday
but sometimes it's pretty darn close
it's given me hope
when all was hopeless
just when I needed it most

trouble knocking

I woke up this morning
with trouble knocking on my door
woke up this morning
trouble knocking on my door
I said go away
I can't let you in no more

trouble started pounding
like a drummer in a rock 'n roll band
trouble was pounding
like the drummer in a rock 'n roll band
I said pipe down, son
can't you see I'm a different man

and trouble got quiet
started talking way down low
trouble got quiet
talking way too slow
saying eventually
you're gonna go
where I want you to go

oh trouble
trouble
trouble's gonna be the death of me
trouble
oh trouble
trouble's gonna be the death of me

everything but the audience

I'm in a suit and tie

took my top hat off the shelf

look in the mirror

my oh my

I look good

if I say so myself

I got my voice warmed up

and checked the sound

took to the stage

and looked around

I had everything but the audience

everything but the audience

everything but the audience

story of my life

No work allowed!

It's Labor Day, man. So I don't have to do any work. I can just lay around all day, playing the guitar and surfing the internet and eating the leftover pizza in my fridge. I love today. It's the best fuckin' holiday, no work allowed! 

There's only one thing wrong with it.

What's that, farmboy?

It turns into tomorrow. Which is a fuckin' workday.

law of averages

if I knew where I would be
next week or
next month or
one hundred years from now
I can only hope
life changes for the best
it's like the law of averages
you add, subtract,
divide and conquer
and in between 
you figure out the rest

I'm at an airport

I'm at an airport
but I sure ain't going nowhere
I should be high in the sky
flying through the air
I got a ticket in my wallet
and a gun in my underwear

labor day weekend:

labor day weekend:
time to take care of yourself
work does not exist

Touch base

Hey, man, how are you?

Why, I'm fine, farmboy. It's good to see you. How are doing? Aren't you supposed to be at work?

I am. It's my lunch break and so I thought I'd just touch base.

Glad you did. How's work today?

Oh. it's a fuckin' drag, you know? Work is, like, never good. It's just there and it pays the bills and the rent. But it's a job. That's what everyone says. And they're right. It's really awful to be unemployed and worried about money all the time.

Hey, man, lunch is almost over and I have to go back to the fuckin' job. Talk at you later, man.

bitter cold

I don't want to think right now
my back is hurting
and I'm tired
and I'm old
God I need a drink right now
all I know for certain
that what once was fire
has turned into bitter cold

shake the etch-o-sketch, take two

there's straight lines
and there's curves
and personal expression
if you've got the nerve
sometimes life is hard
sometimes it's your best friend
sometimes you shake the etch-o-sketch
and start over again

turn the dials
'round and 'round
get directions
from the lost and found
sometimes it's cruel reality
sometimes you pretend
sometimes you shake the etch-o-sketch
and start over again