Chevrolet Nova

Back home on shore leave on his way to Leavenworth
A flat top hair cut and a Motley Crue t-shirt

Revving that engine out there in the drive
He only said I’ll see you later never said goodbye

The parlor was dressed up in Red White and Blue
Talking bout the dead is never a nice thing to do

Whispers in ears and old fashioned metaphor
When you’re driven for them city lights put your foot on the floor

The preacher said he was doing 130 when he lost control
Out there by the riverside no where to go

Chevrolet Nova and a Telephone Pole

28 Days

Washboards on the back roads headlights in my eyes
Hands on the wheel and a pistol by my side

Love line is on the radio barely coming through
Nine pounds in the back seat rural route fifty two

The house is falling down it’s a hundred years old
The fences all be wound and the live stock is sold

The porch swing sits empty blowing in the breeze
Coyotes in the front yard and a country on its knees

Hard times been a raining down the levy wont hold anymore
Load up all the rifles and dead bolt all the doors

Hard times been a raining down I’m doing what I can
Red diesel on the highway and blood stains on my hands

Sepiatone

Little old church nineteen sixty
Horned rim glasses and powder blue suits

Shotgun wedding high on the wine
The baby came early like they did sometimes

I don’t even know who you are
Your picture’s in a magazine

Sepiatone all alone
Waiting in a room painted green

Cigarettes in a white T-shirt
Down at the races on a Friday night

When I look close I see a shine
Like FDR on the back of a dime

I don’t even know who you are
Your picture’s in a magazine

Sepiatone all alone
Waiting in a room painted green

Wild Heart

Crouched in the sage brush pounding down low
Feet in the foot prints followed through the rows

The winters wield has born down on this place
Hunger and isolation mark the hillsides steeping pace

Silent as the snow falls whispering on the wind
Ambivalence is no stranger as the ice begins to thin

Watching through the meadow laying flat and still
Waiting for the moment perfect to unleash its will

My heart is a wild heart waiting just from view
My heart is wild heart never knowing what it might do

Twisting through the tree tops and borrowing below
Searching for salvation where the grass begins to grow

Photos are blackened and shattered full of haze
A ghostly glimpse through a Polaroid taken to the grave

Down deep in a shoebox pushed back under the bed
Only to be reconciled over warm wine and lips painted red

Workers in the field, loaded rifles and masks worn on backs
Legends of heresy and a sprit poised to make another attack

My heart is a wild heart slipping through what all is seen
My heart is a wild heart big, unforgiving and mean

Lost at Sea

Overtaken by the water crashes with the storm
Seeking the shoreline sails tattered and torn

Taking on water that the buckets can’t began to bail
Drifting toward solitude and sinking into hell

Looking down into the water of icy cold and black
I see my reflection slipping there’s no going back

My loved ones no more will wait up late for me
For I’m just another brave sailor getting lost at sea

The sting of resolution will only last a while
The burning of forbidden love lost like a child

The air escapes my chest as I begin to slip down
The last few seconds go silent as I begin to drown

The magic in the motion is now so easy to see
Everything all makes perfect sense you just have to believe