Where the Capital Flows

They have gone
Every last one of them has gone
Wasn't there something we were working on?

I could track
Every last one of them down
With a good phone line and a few minutes of my time
But that would not prove much
They're not simply out of touch
They're gone in more ways than one

There is no money here
That much is clear
Go where the capital flows

Things get dissolved, nothing is resolved, nothing is solved
We just move on.

City Beautiful

Since I've met you the streetlights are brighter
And the air is perceptibly cleaner
Since I've met you movies seem better
None of this makes any sense to me either

And the guy upstairs who plays
That really bad blues guitar
He hasn't changed, but you can't have everything

Since I've met you landscaping seems much improved
Are downtown businesses staying open later?
Since I've met you pedestrians seem friendlier
Length of walk signals greater

And the guy upstairs who plays
That really bad blues guitar
(Which is to say he's good,
In a music shop sort of way)
He hasn't changed at all
But whenever I'm over at your place, it's another problem gone away

Parcel Post

Post office queue
Slush drips slowly from my boots
Yellow slip, with my name
Package awaits my claim

Could it be from you?
Did you remember?
Did you come through?
Stranger things have been known to be true

Cold gusts blow through
And the line scarcely even moves
Extended Ukranian families
With more things to send than you would ever believe

They know a thing or two
About keeping ties
And how to wait in line

Could it be from you?
Stranger things have been known to be true
Though I don't think I could name more than a few

Outside the envoys of Larouche
Babble their incoherent truths
Into the middle of December
Did you remember?
To be continued...

Trouble on the Western Survey

I am drawing the boundary
I am drawing the line
And I don't see us finishing
Until at least 1789

I miss your touch, and I miss your charms
And conversation
I want to fall into your arms

I am drawing the boundary
I am drawing the line

An endless number of hills
Covered with timber and weeds
Serpents, mosquitos
Pestilence, disease
Patches of poison ivy, acres wide
My hands are as completely blistered
As if I had applied a plaster of cantherides

I am drawing the boundary
I am drawing the line

In a future time
People will cross this line
To avoid 3.2 beer
Shoot themselves a deer a week ahead of time
I must go forth
One hill after the other, perfectly north

I miss your voice, and I miss your style
Every evening for you I pine
I am drawing the boundary
I am drawing the line

Bus Pass

You had a bus pass, and I was the driver
Or was it the whole bus company?
You tore up your bus pass
Got back on and paid in cash
And we went along famously

That's how you explained it
I'm not so sure of your analogy
I don't have a license for starters
Let alone own much of anything

You were traveling first class, and I was the pilot
Or was I the federal aviation authority?
When you made the decision
To fly the competition
Promise you would catch up with me

That's how you explained it
I'm not so sure of your analogy
Take this metaphor wherever
While I beat a retreat with my straggled, bedraggled fleet

That's how you explained it
I'm not so sure of your analogy
Don't you think it would be easy
To hop right past your stop and keep you right here with me?

Song for Pahaquarry, NJ (1824-1997)

What is it like to vote yourself right out of existence?
The tally two to zero, no abstentions
What is it like to be so thoroughly abandoned?
A relic of something that no longer fits here

What is it like to vote yourself right out of existence?
A relic of something that no longer fits here
What is it like to have your nearest neighbor seven miles of bad road away?
I think I know, if I disregard all the strangers I pass by on the sidewalk every day

The world is just one endless corps of engineers
The world is just one endless damming back of tears
I think I know
Pahaquarry.

Graduation Party

There was all this smoke
There were promises to write
There was cheap Swedish furniture
There was the back porch light

There was wine induced vertigo
There was a need for air
There was your impending move south
There was that essence rare

The static was everywhere
But the signal was unmistakably clear

There was the sophomore art crowd
There were the fiction writers
There was the vegan potluck scene
There were a few outsiders

There was your complicated smile
With its plot twists
And surprise ending
There were four years of acquaintance
With the future pending

The static was everywhere
But the signal was unmistakably clear
As far as my reception
You might as well have been a carrier current college radio station

Icejam

We were watching the ice break up
The symbolism wasn't lost on either one of us
The temperature continued to climb
The water hadn't been this high since 1979

We were watching the ice break up
We knew what we were thinking, but it wasn't to be discussed
Debris piling all over town
As we sought the moral high ground

We were watching the ice break up
The winter gave in and said it had had enough
The beauty, the sadness, and the danger
What are we doing here

Anti-hymn

I looked out my window there was not much to see
All was plain and familiar
Regular, routine
A street crew took lunch
Some kids played a game
When the church bell struck noon
It all stayed the same

No savior is interested in what's happening here today
No savior is going to come down and wash these sins away
The last will not be first, the first will not be last
Errors in judgement will not be called to task

Looked around the apartment there was not much to say
Dishes were piled up
Bills were unpaid
And where all of your stuff was
The same empty space
As the moment has passed by
So now let us pray

Of all the Armageddon predictions
This is the most eloquent one
Like all of the others
Absolutely wrong

Angels on high are not watching over me
No way we get to get off the hook so easily
The meek will not inherit anything
There is no kingdom come, there is no psalm to sing

Parcel Post (Return to Sender)

It was a 7-inch record
From a band I've never heard of
Who would like to play here
In the dead of winter





main lyrics page