Let pure whiskey hold me here all night
Served two years behind cold steel bars
Counted every star upon my old shield
Now I’m two years here with a feeling strong
Wrestling with an old dream gone
With six steel strings and my heart along
Struggling out beyond the the far beyond
That never turned in time to be
What could forever take me free
Twenty seven steel bars
Pure whiskey holding me here all night
Tag: bars
Turning Outlaw Again (day 1825)
I’m turning outlaw again,
My stinging words will pierce thy soul
And my fists will bleed my wicked ways,
I’ll drink my beer warmer then
My women have ever been.
I’m turning down the next dusty road
Handing over my soft spoken ways
For rowdy bars and snake tattoos
I’ll start to hiss with the devils drink.
I’m turning outlaw again,
My gang will be 20 strong
On an open road,
Our clubhouse filled with naked women
Who have signed their posters on the walls.
Saw toothed barbed wire
Will be our backup guard dog
And strapped in a leather sheath to my hip
Will be the deadliest blade known to man.
I’ll shoot my shotgun out the back door
At empty beer cans from the night before,
And all my cigarette smoke
Will lead me to toke,
Cause baby, I’m turning outlaw again.
Dress Rehearsal Stranger (day 1089)
I’m a dress rehearsal stranger
Without a fixing for the road.
I’ve been picking up the faggots
That get me kicked out of the bars.
Did you walk away a stranger
Cause you were too caught up in gold?
Or was the ever piercing sidewalk
Grabbin’ tight your leathered soles.
Melting through my summer windscreen
Before the widows shake their brooms.
We were wrestling with officers
Gettin’ some fiction on their tongues.
Laughing without smiling
It’s been a mighty cold balloon.
I haven’t forgotten promises
With cheap hotel hookers
But the minister I never knew
Said, “Man, it’s not right timing after all.”
For there was one forgotten apple
That lay rotting on the ground
Which everybody avoided
Conscious fingers up their nose.
Butler’s on my side
To tell me all he had to say
Which was spoken very dryly
As he fit the classic part.
So I knew at that very moment
All their was ever said to know,
Which took me down to Georgia
To lay down my old guitar.
Prison (day 83)
Time slips by unbeknownst to me
Regardless of the patience I give to thee
Bars fill up the bland landscape
Gray and capturing
Relentless I feel is my tight schedule
Pointless I feel is my constant turmoil
Sunlight visits me in sun dialed accuracy
Bright and blinding
Visitors few, ladies are never
Friends aren’t friends, just forced communication
Green grass escapes from the sand
Sparse and hopeless
I am a jailbird, guilty and charged
I have been guilty of abusing
Societies deepest friends
Dry and inconsolable