i just got back from our show at the axis opening for monte montgomery.

that dude is a freak of nature.

he may be the best guitar player i've seen. besides stevie ray, of course.

that is one of the coolest things my father ever did.

when i was sixteen, he came home driving a t-top corvette and wearing a black fedora with the brim pulled down low. he pulled out two tickets on the fourth row to see stevie ray and double trouble and we rode to the concert pimpin' in the corvette he rented.

i remember a few joints got passed down our row and he just laughed and passed it on. maybe one day before he dies, we'll burn one together. he still has never smoked pot. i just don't understand how you can graduate high school in 1966 and never smoke a joint.

he is a big merle haggard fan. i guess he took that song "okie from muskogee" to heart. like merle haggard ain't smoking no dope.
whatever dude. we don't smoke marijuana in muskogee. yeah, but you do 1000 dollars worth of cocaine a day.

so, it's sunday. i guess it's time for church.

gather round, gather round.

let's all stand together and sing.

turn to page 108 in your hymnals.

did i spell hymnals right?

fuck it.

anyways...

darkness at the break of noon, shadows even the silver spoon eclipses both the sun and moon to understand you know to soon there is no sense in trying.

pointed threats, they bluff with scorn, suicide remarks are torn
from the fool's gold mouthpiece the hollow horn plays wasted words proves to warn, that he not being busy born is busy dying.

temptation's page flies out the door, you follow find yourself at war
watch waterfall's of pity roar, you feel to moan but unlike before
you discover that you'd just be one more person crying.

so don't fear, if you hear
a foreign sound in your ear
it's alright ma, i'm only sighing.

that shit is ridiculously kick ass.

goddamn.

i'm going to try and write a poem now.

on the spot.

it's probably gonna suck.

here it goes.....

i know you want to...

if you measure your pleasure
and it's all just a funk
clean out the cobwebs in your trunk
and get rid of all the useless junk
cluttering up your space in the bottom bunk.
pile it up
and watch it burn
you might learn
to take the turn
a little slower.

if your days are all sideways
and your twisting in the wind
up to your neck in all the time you spend
with your fake ass friends
you better make amends
again
and mean it this time.
cause life ain't long
about the length of a song
and when the fat lady sings and her harmony is wrong
you won't have time to show her.

when wheel's are a spinnin' on your dirty jean's denim
and oil and the soil from yesterday's mess
is splatterin' all over your sunday's best
and the high priest is waitin' and you must confess
about that wicked woman in the white cotton dress
don't take the high road.
cause the curves are too steep
and the dropoff is deep
and there won't be a reason to keep
that baggage on your shoulders.

crawl to the waterfall
and see if it makes any sense
cause it's humid as hell and the fog is dense
and ladies and gents
the grass ain't greener, it's just a damn high fence
in left field.

but go ahead a swing for it.

i know you want to.

i got to pee.

that only took me 45 minutes.
not too shabby. but i'm still a little flabby.
and i can't quit rhymin' cause i got good timin'

fuck this..

it all over now baby blue,

scott