smoking lucky strikes in a snow covered graveyard you watch your breath spill into the air
the night gives no shelter & the wind it cuts through you and you look up at the sky & swear
at the winter stars and their indifference to you
dizzy from the drink and that shaky homegrown
you pull your wool hat over your eyes and lean against a headstone
ain't it like that when you're guttered & there is no where to go
ain't it like that when you're guttered you walk the graveyard in the snow

all you've ever loved & lost is there to read on your skin
just like the hobo's the bare knuckle boxers, sailors and the union men
it's songs we sang in fury and glory the music that defines where we stand
at basement shows and dark dingy bars, all the feedback & broken up bands
once again you're guttered & the chilly winds do blow
once again you're guttered you walk the graveyard in the snow

you said you'd be heading south, the country's getting scary & you need to get clear
this city's too cold, it's people too blind, too much comfort & too much fear
me I still cling to the things that once fueled us, In on The Kill Taker, Cometbus & Unrest
am I wild or tame? hardcore or lame? a wandering fool or a heart at rest?
a wandering fool or a heart at rest?

oh no I'm just guttered & I still carry the flame
oh no I'm just guttered, & can't remember my own name
once again I'm guttered, just trying to do my best
am I wild or tame? hardcore or lame? a wandering fool or a heart at rest?
a wandering fool

ALL SUMMER GLORY

running on the green steaming lawns
chasing the last rays of sun all down the shoreline
through the dog days and hot July nights
crickets the drumbeat fireflies the light fireflies the light
it's our own kind of hallelujah
a river & a case of beer
the kind of piss that goes right through ya
we'll take off outta here
we'll take off outta here
tell me your name
tell me your story
tell me of all your summer glory

radio coming in like the disembodied voice of god
soundtrack to our delinquent degeneration
allied against the hurdles set in our way
laughing at the games they want us to play, they want us to play
just let me flirt in corners
give me clumsy hands
we're not taking any orders
we're making our own plans
making our plans
tell me your name
tell me your story
tell me of all your summer glory
2am, swimming in the quarry
bathing in all summer glory

WHEN I CAME TO YOU

When I came to you, I came with dust and deserted alleys
I came with a trainride across the North in the snow
I came with well worn clothes that didn't fit my frame so well
When I came to you I had a lifetime of farewells

When I came to you I came with rivers running cold and blue
red ribbons, red wine, and red blood running true
I came with dark reveries, nightclub lights and western motel tears
I was tired of being lonely all these years

When you came to me you came with women's names I could not hear
ashes and excess and a thousand yard stare
so like a child and then so steadfast and so strong
when you came to me you didn'tknow where you belonged

When you came to me you brought the streets of London in the rain
Boston in the winter, Charlotte in the Spring
Came with a storm to sting my eyes, made me feel alive and free
I walked proud into the daylight when you came to me
I walked proud into the daylight when you came to me
So blow out the candles and rock me to sleep and whisper as the world drifts away...

WHEN THE WORLD WAS YOUNG

when the world was young
the rain was never-ending
the mud caked our boots and the river rose so high
when the world was young
we never stopped to look around us
or savor the beauty it was just scenery rolling by
out the window of another three hours on I-5
hypnotized by windshield wipers, logging trucks, and grey skies
there's a sadness in the hills here denuded bare and broken
these streets hum songs unheard and whisper words unspoken

when the world was young
if you saw it you believed it
the tubes glowed warm and the wires crackled with sound
when the world was young
we laughed as we exploded
i still have a ringing in my ears, a bitter taste upon my tongue
what ever happened to those who swore they'd never stray?
there's an undercurrent of dirt and stain no shine can wash away
it's goodbye to the rank and file are those your taillights leaving town?
i know it'd be a lie if I said I'd see you 'round

our soundtrack to the endtimes has all become white noise
static on the airwaves, the echoes of forgotten joys
for the true believers there are a few who still remain
hunkering down in our kingdom of rain

i still have a ringing in my ears,
i still have a ringing in my ears,
i still have a ringing in my ears,
a bitter taste upon my tongue

IDYLL

follow the overgrown railroad track
through the weeds and grass and shotgun shacks
down by the signal crossing and the burned out cadillacs
summer it is nearly gone it never seems to last too long
til the cold northern wind comes to take the season back
& the holy rollers roll through town again
on a mission of redemption to wash away our sins
i am sanctified only by the darkness of your eyes
& swimming in the quarry
cool water on your skin

building castles in the air
cheshire smile mad as the march hare
firewater cuts the dust & we make quite a pair
here in the county seat, our sleepy municipality
it's churches depots fire stations bars & country fairs
& I love it here though I know someday we're leaving
as long as I am with you girl I don't care where we go
we were always too free for believing in anything but fireflies
& rolling in the meadow

my heart is turning ever, turning ever, turning ever to you
my heart is turning ever to you

STEVENSON HOTEL

cubicle number 40
chicken wire on the ceiling
the stevenson hotel
106 Bowery
and George is the last man standing
he's been here 30 years
in this flophouse up the stairs
he is not leaving, oh no
he is not leaving

cubicle number 40
all the others are empty
4 feet by 8 feet
the walls all vomit green
and George says "they're all gone.
The Professor and Jullian
who used to beat me".
he's been here so long
damned if he's leaving, oh no
he is not leaving

and the Bowery boys today are just the elite on parade
and the landlords and the lawyers know there's money to be made
from an old hotel where the rooms used to go for 5 bucks a day
a cool 1.2 Million is the price that would be paid.... but for George

Cubicle number 40
someone stole his poetry
they can't pay him enough money
for dental and eye surgery
so they wait for George to die
go to that flophouse in the sky
but his ghost will haunt the halls
he is not leaving, oh no
damned if he's leaving

cubicle number 40
chicken wire on the ceiling
the stevenson hotel
106 Bowery

skyscrapers & aeroplanes
quarries and lakes
school days hue and cry
sepia tone photographs
halcyon and caterwaul
these meadows far behind
i remember nothing
i remember nothing

i have lost my mind so many times
i can't count the lives i have left behind
like so many waves on the ocean wide
i have no sense of time i have no sense of time

central park in the Ramble
i held my father's hand
cousins and pigeons
and the first smell of a girl
the first sight of a flower
a window to an infinite world
what happened in between?
what happened in between?

i have lost my mind so many times
i can't count the lives i have left behind
like so many waves on the ocean wide
i have no sense of time i have no sense of time

RADIO MONTANA

he walked from burning mountain to where sweet grass chokes the plains
where sudden showers hammer down upon the soft terrain
where bluebells reach their arms up to welcome the rain
and AM frequencies sweet refrain
radio Montana, summer's come again

he spent 10 years in Bozeman with nothing left to show
just an empty place inside him where dance the hungry crows
where growl the roving coyotes on their nocturnal prowl
and relentless memories of Jenny and dancing cheek to jowl
radio Montana, and a long and lonesome howl

the station fades to static, the world fades to blue
as he rides towards the oxbow on the edge of the Badger Two
can't shake the job from the scars when the fire got too close
can't shake the mark of her leaving and that's what hurts the most
radio Montana. life is full of ghosts

OUROBOROS

o the streets of this town lead to the next town all away around the world
through all the oceans in endless motion we're diving for pearls
and the water keeps moving high up in the air
til it falls on our heads and runs through your hair
& the places we are now the places we've been
are one in the same now we end where we begin
and you my companion my long lost friend
again i am with you we begin where we end

every direction leads us back again to the doors of the houses we used to live in
the bed is still warm where we once lay the pillow still holds the shape of your face
& the places we are now the places we've been
are one in the same now we end where we begin
and you my companion my long lost friend
again i am with you we begin where we end

i cry sometimes, still i smile
goodbye this time, just for awhile

from the cooling of day to the chill of the evening
i lie awake & wonder what it is you are dreaming
we walk in this world our breathing an engine
i want to be like the fox, make tracks in the wrong direction
& practice resurrection
& the places we are now the places we've been
are one in the same now we end where we begin
and you my companion my long lost friend
again i am with you we begin where we end
where we end

THIS YEAR WAS A BLUR

black wall of rain, get in and get down
the winter king & his stormy crown
November came, November went
the chain of days, & stir of events
& what it meant I'm not sure
& even though it was a good one
this year was a blur

pirate the hours from devil time
a cup of kindness for old lang syne
ocean to ocean, sky to sky
turn and face backwards, wave good bye
action is the cure
sorrow trailing out behind us
this year was a blur

we put our heads in the sand a little deeper
instead of waking up we joined the sleepers
all these years of promise squanders
down these long and empty street I wander

clear the fog from my mind, the mud from my boots
dust off my hound's tooth suit
the past is another country my dear
but the gang hasn't gone, the gang's all here
& together we'll endure
kick it over to the next one
This year was a blur
kick it over to the next one
kick it over to the next one

the nightowl said to the skylark
"I have to fly, over the deserts and plains and disappear into the open sky.
I'll miss the feel of the rain asit falls on the dry desert plains
the scent of the wind, the damp morning dew, but most of all
I'll be missing you"

the skylark said to the nightowl " the whole world sings your song
shouted from the rooftops of London, Ankara, and Hong Kong. But me, I know your heart and mind and together we've travelled long. And I know that under your black wing is the only place Ive ever belonged. And the dark is your providence and I greet the bright sun. We shape each day out of common clay and our work is never done."

the nightowl said to the skylark "I won't tell you not to mourn. But keep that spark in your soul and in you I'll be reborn. Look ahead to what will become a new world in pain of labor. The living and the dead they hang by a thread and rest with the true originators. And the dark is my providence and you greet the bright sun. My love for you is eternal and true. I am afraid my work here is done."

STONEWALL

the war has ended (let us cross the river)
the battle has passed (lie easy in the shade)
may we heal all the wounded (let us cross the river)
and not be downhearted (lie easy in the shade)

we'll bury our dead (let us cross the river)
and lay them in the ground and they'll (lie easy in the shade)
their gravestones proudly standing (let us cross the river)
underneath the crooked trees (lie easy in the shade)

again we'll see our loved ones (let us cross..)
we have been so long apart ( lie easy...)
how my heart it does leap (let us cross...)
to see my own sweet Annie (and lie easy..)

my children my children (let us..)
my children my children (lie easy..)
may we heal all the wounded (let us cross the river)
and not be downhearted (lie easy in the shade)

MEMORY AGAINST FORGETTING

The history of the world is told in lines, laid down in reams and tomes.
Rows and rows of dusty books for the scholars to comb.
Digitized and organized, each one in it’s place.
The events according to the conqueror and the rest has been erased

We are memory against forgetting
Still we hold the line.
A true and secret history in the ocean of time
Young hearts on fire with the old age and burning in the new.
We are memory against forgetting. We are the past and the future too.

Fascism didn’t start in ’33, it didn’t end in ’45.
It’s cancer affects the souls of men, and it’s tumor grows and thrives.
For years lying dormant, asleep but still alive.
Like hibernating hornets, ‘'til someone kicks the hive.

When this world has come and gone, like all things passes on.
What will they say about us, and how the west was one.
Will they find the remnants of the sad and free in the rubble and the re-bar.
Too slow, too slow to realize, before it went too far, before it went too far.

There was smoke in the street on that clear November morn.
I can see the banners still waving in the sun.
The way you looked at me, and the way you said my name,
And since that very day nothing’s been the same.

THE VALLEY

On up the valley there’s a mining claim.
An abandoned cabin under the cedars in the rain.
On summer nights we’d go there in 1987.
Me and Hannah would have a little piece of heaven.

On up the valley.

On up the valley there’s a wrecked rusted Chevy.
Twenty years ago someone went and wrapped it around a tree.
We’d fill it full of bullets and we’d rattle it with bee bees
Over the burms, down Forest Service Road 73.

On up the Valley

Danny found a hornets nest in the hood of that car.
And I found a birds nest way down below.
Fog in the river bottom, heat lightning in the mountains high,
And a fire I can’t name, hidden behind my eyes.
On up the Valley, on up the road.

CODFISHER

I was born in Halifax, upon the Atlantic sea,
Where the wind blows hard and string relentlessly.
I first saw the Blue Nose sail, when I was but a lad. And since I was a young man, fishing’s the job I’ve had.

I worked on board my father’s boat, until he passed away.
Out with hook and line I was most every single day.
I wasn’t rich but the catch was good and I always could get by
I thought this would be the work Id do, until the day I died.

But out beyond the Grand Banks, where my small craft cannot go,
out upon the ocean where the whale fish blow,
giant boats with many men by the thousands bring fish in.
They’ve scoured the ground fish stocks of Cod, Turbot, and Capelin.
When we saw our catch decline, we were sorely grieved.
So went to petition the minister and department of fisheries.
But our pleading fell on deaf ears and nothing did they do,
So now in desperation I bring my case to you.

The draggers and hard trawlers from many countries came,
And they scoured the ocean floor all o’er until no fish remained.
Then the government came back to us and said, ”Hey, there’s a problem on our shores.”
And declared a moratorium and said I could fish Cod no more.

So I say to hell with Canada and to hell with mobile gear
The ban has been extended now for indefinite years
While in international waters, the great waves rise and fall.
And the multinational companies continue the dragger trawl.

So now we’ve organized and we’re taking our case to sea.
Out on the continental shelf, we’ll confront the companies,
We’ll throw stink bombs aboard their boats, and cut and slash their nets.
We’ll let the greedy bastards know that we’re not beaten yet.

I was born in Halifax, upon the Atlantic sea,
Where the wind blows hard and string relentlessly.
They’ve taken away my livelihood but they’ll never break my will.
For I wish my son could be a fisherman and I wish that I was too.

14th and Main, crossing bells, a passing train
the sorrow we’ve known all washed away
in the pitiless rain
your eyes are bright bright orange fire
hold me close, i am filled with wild desire

in the beautiful night, rude boys out looking for a fight
in the beautiful night, fists will fly the sparks ignite
sound of music from a crowded bar
alcohol and wind, cigarettes and stars...

exiled on lovers leap
campfires burn on the beach
we leave the city’s glow, and head on out to Signal Reach
down by the ocean, green and blue, wild and deep
I could hold you here forever
lying awake, watching you sleep

in the beautiful night, i've never seen a prettier sight
in the beautiful night, with your baby when you know its right
sound of music from a steel guitar,
nothing but wind nothing but stars
we are made of water and electrolytes
you and I
orbiting satellites

bear me away where the fog lies on the fields
and the full moon shines through the tall grass, through the tall grass
dogs in the yard and they’re howling at the gate
and the air is thick with the feel of a long July, a hot July
your corduroys hug your hips so well
in your knee high boots walking away from me now, walking away
Columbia River and that old Grand Coulee Dam
walking by the water with the Colville blues again
wise blood, teardrops in the sand
and all aI wanted was to be your man, to be your man...

the ocean swallowed the moon and the years have taken you somewhere we cannot follow. The bar still shines from your sleeve. i hear your voice in my dreams, like distant laughter from another world. you dressed like King Neptune in the Mermaid Parade through the streets of Coney Island. With your legendary charm and a girl on your arm and your heart forever in the Highlands. I see your impish grin and that sadness in your eyes like some mad drunken biker maestro. Your demons were famous how they danced up a storm. But your angels were always so much more. People speak your name and all have a story. I hear them everywhere I travel to. Of song and laughter and the nights reckless glory and how you touched them in ways you never knew. Cats wail in the alley, horses kick in the stall for a music so wild and full of woe. That fiddle you played how it cut across the soul, cried like an angel band, and glowed like burning coal. Now it’s night in that land off the dark island where all lost boys go to sleep. Rest you weary head on the ocean’s royal bed. Though the waves leap, soft shall you sleep.

i have travelled this wounded country
a lost and lonely highway exile
in every town and every city i am taken by the smile of a stranger
just a stranger
though i fight, it leaves me lonely

there’s no light
not like the light
not like the light that shines though the dark of the world
there’s no love, not like like love
not like the love of the Philadelphia Girl

wishes are seeds wild and windblown
some may never cease to roam
from the ground they all search for
a bit of earth, a bit of loam
I miss my home, I miss my home
down along that muddy river shore

STORYLINE?
my brain is boiling in my head
my heart is beating in my chest
i haven't seen myself in weeks
i haven't seen myself in weeks
maybe you have, maybe you

i can’t follow this storyline after all this time

it feels like triage but its better than shame
there is no need to scorn me
it i who scorn myself
and believe me, that’s bad enough

me and Terry Haden, leanin''' on a chainlink fence
lazing away a summer day not causing a disturbance
we cracked a can of Milwaukee, took free throws from the line
smiled as the neighborhood girls walked by and didn't pay us any mind

when i come around here now,
when i come around it's always like this and I like it

spilled paint on the boombox, volume stuck on nine
it echoes down these concrete streets to the porch of that woman of mine
Dion and the Belmonts sing to my hearts content
sweet music to my ears leaning on a chainlink fence

when i come around here now,
when i come around it's always like this and I like it

so meet me on the corner down by Wooster Square
by the grocer and the laundromat where Dimitri cuts hair
and we'll have a smoke in the graveyard and a slice of Sally's best
looking out on this great wide world and time won't even exist

see that Louis he was just a baby, now he's hanging out in the park
and the cops they watch his every move and call it their work
the dogs chase each other around the diamond, life somehow makes sense
you can see the whole damn city from here leaning on a chainlink fence

when i come around here now,
when i come around it's always like this and I like it

you and i go walking, hand in hand we're talking, down along the waterfront docks
smell of fish it lingers from the midnight market. we're quiet in the way new lovers talk.
On that dirt river we will be delivered across the Brooklyn Bridge

tall ships all along the pier, lines like the tracks of tears for some lost glory of New Amersterdam. Flanked by silver scrapers of the New Jerusalem makers. For the old New York they didn't give a damn. Some built their dreams in arcs of light, some in sacrilege. Across the Brooklyn Bridge

How I love to listen to the wind through her strings, how I love to hear her sing
If you've ever been a rover, journey's end lies over the Brooklyn Bridge

50 degrees says the Watchtower, 6:15 the hour, the sun it sets on the harbor haze
tugs are all going home, you lean over the edge and stare down at the foam with your hair all a-falling in your face. Can you moor this weary ship? Will you tie these lines to your slip? Can you love a lonely sailor?
If you've ever been a rover, journey's end lies over the Brooklyn Bridge

We are the city, we are its pulse and its beat
We are the city, see us tramp the streets

steam rises from the iron grates, the smoke it fills my lungs
you can hear the sounds of all the world sung in a thousand tongues
the subway mariachi, the arias dying strains
and the busker in the station singing of escapades out on the D train

We are the city, in all its joy and pain
We are the city, our sins washed away in the rain

Gotham, Gomorrah

We are the stars dead but still shining, we are the constellations
high above the rush hour crowd down at the station
the lunatic asylum on Roosevelt Island, GO in the park in Chinatown
and the Loisaida poet, Molloch he's calling it down

We are the City, it all its joy and sorrow
We are the City, a prayer for all tomorrow
Gotham, Gomorrah

Hey, didn't it all go just like that?
Hey, didn't it all go just like that?
one day you're down, the next you alight
walking the avenues in the June dark
stepping out as the city ignites
and that look in your eyes as you spun me around
where has it gone? disappeared into the ether
faded with September and vanished with the winter

Watch for me when the leaves start falling
Watch for me and hear me calling
Watch for me through the tumult of the years
I will still be living inside of you my dear

rain rattles the cobblestones
there were kisses in taxi cabs going home
and late breakfasts on the roof
we stood against the burden of proof
its a funny thing how when you're weightless
gravity sneaks up on you
and it steals away with your only one
along with the roar of your youth
and you're walking like the ghost of a memory
down some treelined avenue

Just another anonymous man
checking into a roadside motel
just another blank stare on the bus
another beau who had lost his belle
it was so long gone, we were tender in our fashion
hey look at me in roughshod clothes
my face gone ashen
darling make your way and ill see you one bright day
best wishes for the future babe
fair play to you babe

watch for me down all the days, down all the years
i will still be living inside of you my dear

and the night lights shine on the Water Street bricks
we danced hand and hand down the East River strand
and the whiskey flowed like the Tigris though the Holy Land

the rats come flying out the gate, 100 if there is 1
and the dogs are dropped in to the roar and the din of the crowd who like killing for fun
they swarm and they gnash and make a good play but the terriers win in the end
and the winner kisses the bloody snout of the hound for he's surely mans best friend

CH

the good are always the merry, so at John Allen's dancehouse next door
where the sailors they rest on a woman's breast with broken hearts as they cleave to the shore
and the music would play and the people would sway and they'd feel it in the deep heart core
still the priests and the paper's all called him a lecher and the wickedest man in New York

CH

I have heard the words of Henry Bergh and petitions to the throne of grace
but a man who lives pious and waits for messiahs is all that much more of a waste
for this former world is the only world with its crying its joy and its death
so I'll wipe my own tears and live for the flesh all lousy with drink on my breath

CH

there is no need for words out here in the silence
where the ringtail stealthily walks
back in the city the noise conquers all
the shopping, the swearing, the useless talk
I am down on my knees under carved river canyon
under juniper my soul is laid bare
so throw me to the dogs
don't you know I'm happier there

the gutters can't suck me where the dust devils blow
out in painted desert of sagebrush and rock
under arroyo the turtle crawls
and the skin on my face it is dry as chalk
its an unspoken hunger that brought me here
out where the coyotes throng
so throw me to the dogs
that's where i belong

Trina fell for a punk named Silver from Southern Illinois
who'd been living on the streets of the West COast since he was a 13 year old boy
he knew every free meal in Stumptown, every dry place to keep warm
and he'd take her to 'em when the darkness fell and they'd lie in each others arms
Silver hustled now and again in the backs of drunk mens cars
scars ran up and down his arms like the tracks in the railyards
when he'd offer it to her, you know she never once took it
beneath the I-5 viaduct his teeth clenched to a tourniquet
one day the cops found his body by the train tracks where he'd hop the line to Frisco
But for the last year of his life, he loved a sister of the road...

Trina found her way up off the streets and works in a clinic downtown
all the kids she used to know well she never sees them around
but there are more where they came from cast aside and left behind
walking down a lonely street and strung out on the line
for the old hoboes, the migrant laborers, the lost and wayward teens
there's a place where a buck twenty five will get you a plate of eggs and beans
and there is nothing like a cup of coffee when the winter winds blow cold
you can find them down in old town on 6th, the Sisters of the Road...

dark winds, dark winds do blow here. deep inside i know such fear.
to let myself go. to let myself believe this time i won't end up in tears.

sleep tight, sleep tight my baby. i am sorry i'm so fucking crazy.
no quarter is given, no slack is let go for the man who just says maybe

On cold nights the whiskey warms the soul and lets the stories flow free
of the hobo jungles all over hells half acre
the lost love laments and the candlelight whispers
bring her rushing to my mind and how her eyes could leave this world behind

Here's a toast for tomorrow, a cheer for yesteryear
a wink and a drink for all the drying tears
for the lines on her face for the curve of the land
but most of all, for the sad bones of her hands

She left me like a fading ghost like the summer leaves the fall
like the first cold wind that brings the October frost
like the birds in migration for the far southern reaches
Euridyce after Orpheus turned
betraying loves trust and forever to him she is lost

CH

Come come sweet water
Come come sweet water
Come and flood the road again

the markets are choked with merchant wares
the watchmen light the lanterns
as I stumble home all through the asphault night
and I know not where you now live but sleep sleep you r untroubled dream
and a blessing on you wherever you may be

Raconteurs and bowsies, rebels and tramps
Travelers who ramble from camp to camp
dodgers and swagmen, vandals and rounders
Wandering hobo town-to-towners

Come join the circle of jolly fools
Squatters and crusties who make their own rules
Riverbed beggars, carousers and thieves
Our only motto: anarchy

CH

Migrating drifters, buskers on the streets
minstrels and gypsies with no shoes on our feet
drovers and rovers, nomad souls
rank and feral vagabonds laying down the bedroll

tree sitters and diggers, wobblies and the like
monkey-wrenching saboteurs wooden shoe luddites
bolt weevils and tricksters, elves and sprites
we laugh as the 'dozers burn and escape into the night

CH

Winos and drunkards, a stout drinking crew
Dancing on the tables, slamming down the brews
We don’t care if in the morning our heads need to be nursed
Pint after pint there’s no limit to our thirst

We come in all colors, stripes and spots
Raging grannies and punkers revel in our lot
We don’t care what we look like and we don’t wear underwear
Go ahead and stare we are everywhere