make us money

I am becoming used
to the fact that I'm not needed
it's a sad, sad fact
but unfortunately it's true
it's a opinion that I see
often times repeated
in most words and actions
they're really saying
fuck you

          unless you can make us money
          unless you can make us money
          you may think I'm being funny
          but it's the god-forsaken truth
          can you make us money?
          hey, we really need more money
          let me ask you, buddy
          are you someone we can use

I wake every morning
to work for those who feel entitled
they treat me like I'm worthless
and I don't put up a fight
at least five days a week
I wake up feeling suicidal
but it doesn't really matter
'cause deep down I know they're right

          unless I can make them money
          unless I can make them money
          I'm just a nobody
          who just doesn't have a clue
          they say can you make us money
          we need to have a lot of money
          let me ask you, sonny
          are you someone we can use

go outside

fuck the phone
fuck e-mail
I know justice will prevail 
I'm gonna go outside

till the cows come home

I'm gonna love you
till the cows come home
I'm gonna rock you
like a rolling stone
I'm gonna lick you
like an ice cream cone
I'm gonna love you 
till the cows come home

hey sugar
you're the one for me
don't mean maybe
baby, can't you see
I'm gonna go over you
like a fine tooth comb
I'm gonna love you 
till the cows come home 

one farmboy (finished rough draft 1)

maybe it's me
maybe I'm unlucky
but it's plain to see
everyone is fucking
in this no-tell hotel
except for me
oh, how lonesome 
can one farmboy be

why did I leave
Tollerton, Alberta
in New York City
everyone is hurtin'
and I know damn well
that I'm the next in line
oh, how much trouble
can one farmboy find

          it's so damn sad
          it's so damn lonely
          it's too damn bad
          I'm the one and only
          man who's life 
          is overripe baloney
          compared to everybody else's

one night I met
this waitress down at MOMA
she loved me so rough
nearly slipped into a coma
then she grabbed my car keys
and my wallet too
oh dear Lord
what can one farmboy do

            these streets ain't proud

           they're overrun with strangers

           who talk too loud

           and their eyes are filled with danger

           it's a big damn crowd

           no reason I should stay here

           and continue all my bellyaching 

I can't stay
it's expensive in Manhattan
papa, start cooking
it's time to grill the fattened
calf and welcome 
your prodigal son back home
oh, no more
will one farmboy roam
look out folks
one farmboy's coming home

one farmboy (new possible bridge)

these streets ain't safe
they're overrun with strangers
the skies are gray
and the clouds are filled with danger
it ain't okay
there's no reason I should stay here
and continue bellyaching 

A new idea

Hey, I've got a new idea for a song, man.

I'm glad for you, farmboy. What is it?

Well, I don't like talking about ideas before I write them, but since I told you I have a new idea I can tell you.

I'm all ears.

I was thinking it would be nice to write a song that would be a conversation between my subconscious and my...

Conscious?

Uh...yeah.

Anyway, I thought it would be a good thing to do. Even if I don't use it, it would be instructional.

I look forward to hearing it.

Me too, man. I fuckin' love new songs.

one farmboy (new verse)

one night I met
this waitress down at MOMA
she loved me so rough
nearly slipped into a coma
then she grabbed my car keys
and my wallet too
oh dear Lord
what can one farmboy do