Paralyzing.
Maddening.
Aggravating.
Demoralizing.
How long am I expected to hang on?
How long do I accept mediocrity as a way of life?
How long do I devalue myself?

I’m approaching 34 now and I have still done nothing of note.
Nothing worth mentioning.
Nothing even remotely ‘good.’

And now it’s hard to tell if I can.
Or if I should.

If I quit the status quo to make a go at goodness
And I fail
Will I ever be able to crawl back?
To get even to the place I am today?

Which is no place at all.

So who cares?

Well daddy never taught me nothing
‘cept that you could live hard and stay alive
And working wouldn’t get you nowhere
Not like a bottle and a place to hide

And the old man once wrote a letter
Bout how well the church was treating him
I guess the church now is like his children
He likes just to talk about having them

And now as I’m getting older
It’s strange to think the man will die
And they’ll probably invite me over
To see his body  and watch his fat wife cry

Oh well – wonder what they’re gonna think
When I can’t seem to find the time
And the old man is laid to rest
Without his son around to wish him best

Turn it upside down
Inside out
Tear it into little pieces
Tape it back together in the wrong order
Light it on fire
Stamp it out and throw it into the sea
Fish it back with a hook
Piss on it

Whenever I see your face
You know it feels like heaven

And whenever I’m at your place
You know it feels like home to me

But you told me not to come back
Yeah you told me never again

And I can see you’ve gotten over me
Yeah you aint got no tears like mine

And now that I look back dear
At all the years that we’ve left behind

You know I can’t quite figure out
Why you feel you have to treat me so unkind

I know you lost your faith in me somewhere
But I never treated you bad, my dear

And I can see you’ve gotten over me
Yeah you aint got no tears like mine

It’s a new world
It’s a new world
It’s a new world
It’s a new world

And we’re supposed to starving
And we must be insane
And we’re expected to walk
talk dress and act all the same

It’s a new world
It’s a new world
It’s a new world
It’s a new world

And there’s no way out
We finally conquered it all
We raped, pillaged, killed and bled
Till we were nobody

It’s a new world
It’s a new world
It’s a new world
It’s a new world

And we’re supposed to be starving
And we’re supposed to keep driving
And we’re supposed to love nothing
And we’re supposed to care

I recently read a review of a Black Crows album that proclaimed them to be the last rock and roll band left. I disagree – lots of bands are playing Rock and Roll these days, and nevermind that the genre itself is just a combination of other genres and is bound to evolve with time. But I get the author’s meaning: popular rock and roll sucks a bunch of nuts right now.

So what’s good? Lots of stuff. I’m going to start posting some bands I’m listening to lately and hopefully it will help people find new bands and whatnot.

Anyway: Buffalo Killers

Posted: private property
Private beach
Keep out

Every 20 yards or so an ill-kept fence
Grass weaving through the links
Barring neighbors and strangers and wandering beasts alike

Set back from the water, the small houses
With decks and grills and hammocks and umbrellas
Curtains drawn
Owners or vacationers huddled inside
Playing games or planning adventures or ignoring one another with easy distractions
Books, television, games, booze

Up the road some miles is a bar
Crowded from morning to night
By locals with nothing better to do
Their jobs are lake jobs and the lake has turned on them
The very few public beaches closed due to high levels of shit in the water
The fish small and unhealthy
The tourists broke and unhappy

Soon they too will be huddled inside their homes
When winter quickly closes the door on them
And their old, beat cars won’t get them anywhere but stuck
And they too will ignore one another
And protect their tiny patch of Earth from unwelcome intrusion
And see the lake for what it is

Destroyed

In Glens Falls
Drinking a Scotch Ale
Picked up a book about
Ukrainian tractors

En route to North Hero
En route to a week
Without internet
TV
Billboards
Traffic
People
People
People
People
People
People
People
People