THE HARD PART
I’ve had it easy until now
More than heaven should allow
It’s time for the hard part to start
No complaints, no constraints
No support from so-called saints
It’s time for the hard part to start
The bridges that I’ve built should all be bombarded
The sycophantic praise should all be discarded
There’s no dirt in my eye or murmur in my heart
It’s time for the hard part, time for the hard part to start

The plumbing is leaking and
the neighbors are peeking
and it’s time for the hard part to start
My rent checks will bounce and
the press will renounce me
It’s time for the hard part to start
My timing was impeccable now the clocks must stop
I’ve caught the ball, it’s in the glove, but now it must drop
I’ll welcome strangers as my friends and family depart
It’s time for the hard part, time for the hard part to start

It will mean that a decision was made
and not just foisted upon me
I will kiss the good days farewell but
Think of them fondly
I will think of them fondly

The cat’s got my tongue and my anthem’s still unsung
and it’s time for the hard part to start
You’re taunting me with facts and my will tells me relax
but it’s time for the hard part to start
I guess the best that I can hope for is a big mistake
An overnight in hell that’s good for heaven’s sake
But according to my palm lines and my astrological chart
It’s time for the hard part, time for the hard part to start

WE’LL HELP YOU MOVE
No one is staying
No one is saying hi
No one is buying
No one is stopping by
You’ve got good intentions
You should pay attention

We’ll help you move, move, move
We’ll help you move

Everything’s changing
But you haven’t changed a thing
There are taped-up notices
That you aren’t noticing
Now that we have spoken
Won’t you accept this token

You don’t want to face this
We see it in your face
You’re hating our guts as
We gut the entire place
But if you look around you
You’ll see thousands like you

THE EXCEPTION
When your exception came to town
He was dressed in a three-piece suit
A thick Glaswegian accent
and blood on his steel-toed boot
With a scowl on his face and a disposition
As rough as a draft of your book
He winked at you and that’s when you knew
without a second look
He was your exception

When my exception came to town
In a little black skirt of lace
She was fanning herself and scanning the room
for more than a friendly face
She said, “I’m tired of being in demand,”
as she leafed through a pile of scripts.
“And there’s only one role I’m interested in,”
she said as she licked her lips.
“And that’s your exception.”

When our exceptions came to town
The two of us nearly fainted
Once we turned on the cameras and watched them both
Get intimately reacquainted
Such a scheme could have only been dreamed up
by the likes of you and I
and it’s rare that we crave such visual stimuli
but this time
We’ll make an exception

MARTIN
Martin
Bless me with your fist
Martin
You want some of this
Martin
Bless me with your fist

I want to come to some sort of an understanding
I don’t want to come off like I’m too demanding
Martin you’ve been giving me the business for too long
And now I don’t know what cloud I’m on

Martin
Bless me with your fist
Martin
You want some of this
Martin
Bless me with your fist
Martin
How can you resist

I’ll be outside the stage door near the bags of trash
If you want to give me a ring or give me a gash
Martin you’re a slow-blowing fuse and a fast con
And now I don’t know what cloud I’m on

Martin when we were younger
I was never this forthright
But these days I rarely know where
I’ll spend the night
I’m through with acting my age and acting polite
so quench your thirst and clench your fist tight

Martin
Bless me with your fist
Martin
You want some of this
Martin
Bless me with your fist
Martin
Please don’t desist

Martin you keep me hanging on

Quench your thirst and clench your fist tight

Martin you keep me hanging on
Martin you keep me hanging on
Martin you keep me hanging on to you

THE STAR
For Isidore and Ella Nagler
Ever since the day that I was born
I wore the star
On certain weekends and holidays
I wore the star
It never shone bright enough
to be seen by any telescope
And never stopped flickering
enough to give up hope

I grew impatient with each new season
As I wore the star
I condemned others without reason
but I still wore the star
Until a starless sky seemed to hold
the promise of immortality
Would I wear the star
or would the star wear me?

Now I’m older and uneasy
but I wear the star
Like a medal, like a garland,
like a scar
Every day another soul
digs a grave or builds a nest
With stars in their eyes
and a star on their chest

THE DELANO
I hadn’t seen the sun in days
but I had a room at The Delano
You gave me thrills in many ways
when I had a room at The Delano
I was a stone’s throw from the sand and the sea
but they were waiting for me
outside The Delano

I said no… don’t let them take me
No… don’t let them break me
No… don’t let them make me give it back

I bought you drinks and magazines
when I had a room at The Delano
and lived miles beyond my means
when I had a room at The Delano
We’d watch the palm trees as they swayed in the wind
and stumble back inside again
into The Delano

I said no… don’t let them find me
No… don’t let them bind me
No… don’t let them remind me who I am

We met on a plane from Newark
and I plied with you with vodka and honesty
by the time we hit the runway
You’d have seen as much of me as you would ever see

Then the locks came off the door
and our time together was through
there was no hope for me and you
outside The Delano

COMPANY CAR
I woke up at nine in the evening
I had my Bluetooth on
My shoes were outside the front door
and my headache was gone
I was done with today’s paper
I was done with tomorrow’s plans
I don’t need you to tell me who I am
I’m yesterday’s man

Now I’m pouting and fidgeting
and driving ’round the outskirts of the city
Looking for you
in a company car

I’m smoking and swearing
and driving ’round the entrails of the area
Looking for you
in a company car

Siren lights flash
and my head’s hanging out the window
“What’s in the glove-box?”
How the hell should I know
“Take your time getting out, sir”
No problem there
I’ve got little energy to speak of
and plenty of time to spare

I’m aching and moaning
and praying that you’re alone
as I’m looking for you
in a company car

A BOXER’S WEDDING
A former middleweight champion
backstage at Mandalay Bay
jabs at the air
it’s his wedding
He’s out of shape
and he’s out of practice
It’s been five years
since he left the circuit
His love is tiny, nineteen, slammin’
He could crush her
but he’s being careful
He’s cashed out whatever’s
still left in the bank
He wants to be more than a punchline

He’ll step in the ring
He’ll fight for his bride
And if he wins
then the knot can be tied
And when the gloves are off
He’ll hold her

He steps into the light
to rapturous applause
He sees his pastor cloaked in referee garb
He’s flanked by his groomsmen:
his coach, his brother and his uncle
He sees his baby sitting ringside
and he knows then and there
that all bets are off
He loves her so much that it hurts
and he tries to put it into words
with the part of his brain
that still works

The challenger comes out snarling,
breathing fire
An old opponent with four kids and alimony
He takes all the hooks
and takes the body blows
And he knows exactly when he’ll take a dive
He goes down in the third round
And the crowd throws carnations
at the boxer’s feet
the bell rings, Etta James sings
He’s a champion once again

He steps in the ring
He fights for his bride
But the fight has been fixed
So the knot can be tied
Now the gloves are off
and he’ll hold her

DRUNK AT THE PROM
You couldn’t see your shadow
As you fell out of the limo
Your heart was full of arrows
Your body was a brand new bow
Your date had just moved on
You were as hopeless as your favorite song
You glared at the camera
and smiled at a night going wrong

You were drunk at the prom and you missed the last dance
’cause you were out back blowing your second chance
You were drunk at the prom and the chaperone said
The valedictorian might end up dead

And the child remained a child
for another lonely school year
’til there was nothing left to learn
and nothing left to fear

How will you face yourself alone?

NOW YOU’RE A NUN
Now you’re a nun
but not to everyone
though you can distance, distance, distance
distance yourself all you like
from the things that you’ve done
Now you’re a nun
and it’s not much fun
but it’s your mission, mission, mission
mission to finish everything
that you’ve begun
and it’s your destiny or so you say
trying to ready yourself for judgment day
but it’s already here
and you have nothing to fear except yourself
yourself
it’s already here and you have nothing to fear except
Now you’re a nun
the Mother Superior is urging you on
singing Climb Ev’ry, Climb Ev’ry, Climb Ev’ry
Climb Ev’ry Mountain
Now you’re a nun
and it’s like a setting sun
for all the altar boys in Brooks Brothers
looking to get their druthers
thinking that they oughta take a drink of your holy water
(’cause they’re so thirsty)
and it’s your destiny or so you say
trying to ready yourself for the light and the way
but it’s already glaring
so you’d better start baring your soul
your soul
it’s already glaring so you’d better start baring your
soul
and it’s your destiny or so you say
trying to ready yourself for judgment day
but it’s already here
and you have nothing to fear except yourself
yourself
it’s already here and you have nothing to fear
except yourself

(WHEN SHE WAS) THE OTHER WOMAN
She was my patron, my compass
the only replacement for drinking
The beginning of my martyr complex
while everything else was sinking
High heels and Das Kapital
Violet was her favorite color
the wrong key to the right room
hoping no one saw us go in one or out the other
Soft whispers and delicate kisses
she disrobed with every breath
The creaks of the floor and the calls I ignored
would all scare me to half to death
Fake vacations, new sensations
Trying friends’ patience with polite cancellations
New horizons appeared like magic
Was the end of everything really so tragic?
When she was the other woman
that was when I knelt before her and wept and held her close
When she was the other woman
when she was the other woman she had me by the throat
We no longer kiss in a shadow
my bad habits are now second nature
Her opinions have grown more staunch
while I’ve got a bit of a paunch
I hear every sigh of boredom
and I know she’s empty at her core
and I see every jolt of surprise that
I know I can’t take responsibility for
But then she gets chatty with the host of a party
As his eyes undress her like mine used to do
and then from across the room
the smell of her perfume will bring me back to
When she was the other woman
that was when I knelt before her and wept and held her close
When she was the other woman
when she was the other woman she had me by the throat

HELD
You had no cause but you rebelled
And now all you want is to be held
But there aren’t enough arms in the world to hold you
Aren’t enough arms in the world
When you didn’t get your way you screamed and yelled
And now all you want is to be held
You cried when your name was misspelled
And now all you want is to be held

I WANT YOU BLAND
I want you bland
shorn of any quality
that might annoy me
Your graciousness and submission
will make me proud
When I say come, you come
but not too loud
I want you bland, so bland
I want you bland
not overly emotional
but exceedingly devotional
lessons should be learned
the way pills should be swallowed
There’s much less clutter
in a space that’s been hollowed
I want you bland
because silence is a virtue
though sometimes it hurts you
If all else fails
stay glued to your seat
and everything someone says to you
you just repeat
But you’ll see me smile
and you’ll know it was worth your while
I want you bland
You are an artist of simplicity
and elasticity
The cream of the crop
and the top of the heap
away from the crap
and all the other sheep
Someday I know
you’ll want your life back again
but until then
I want you bland

TURN TO CRIME
I will turn to crime because it suits me
I will turn to crime because it makes sense
I will turn to crime because the town has been shut down
I will turn to crime without a sound
I will turn to crime because of my childhood
I will turn to crime because of my faith
I will turn to crime just like many other men
and I will turn turn turn turn turn turn turn turn again
I will turn to crime when the moon is full
I will turn to crime when the sun is out
I will turn to crime when all the trees in the woods
resemble little more than damaged goods
I will turn to crime because my time is short
I will turn to crime because my heart is cold
I will turn to crime before my reputation fades
and then my debt to society will be paid
I will turn to crime with every synapse on my brain
I will turn to crime with every callus on my hand
I will turn to crime with every fiber of my skin
and then I will show the world what lies within
I will turn to crime and stand before my creator
I will turn to crime and leave no stone unturned
I will turn to crime and defiantly say
“Praised be He who showed me the Way”
“Praised be He who showed me the Way”
“Praised be He who showed me the Way”

STYLE OVER SUBSTANCE
You’re feckless and your necklace
is more than something that you wear around your neck
You dipped your crescent roll into the finger bowl
and then skillfully avoided the check
In a cowboy hat and a wax mustache
You’re driven by love but you brake for cash
It’s style over substance
or substance over style
whatever it takes to make you smile
You’re insufferable and you’re thick
and you’re famous for your nervous tick
Born from nasty stock all dressed up in your frock
and guaranteed to make everyone sick
So when you’re done with your strange brand of irony
Why don’t you come on home to me
It’s style over substance
or substance over style
whatever it takes to make you smile
Is it sheer magnetism that helps you get by
Is it unrequited lust or the eye in the sky
When you try to take your enemies for a ride
do you wind up sitting on the passenger side
‘Cause you can’t do it as well as they do
And so you let ‘em mop the floor with you
It’s style over substance
or substance over style
whatever it takes to make you smile

I’M THE ONLY ONE THAT I LOVE
I first had sex when I was seventeen
and the heavens opened up from above
not because of the pleasure that it gave me but
I learned that I’m the only one I love
And a pleasant date that started out as give-and-take
eventually turned to push-and-shove
my relationships all toppled over
as I revealed that I’m the only one that I love
The last person I was with looked just like me
but I don’t think that they really cared
that when our Wonder Twin powers activated
it was in the form of Superman-squared
So if you wonder why I never wash my hair
and every day I look like a shlub
well who is it I really need to impress
if I’m the only one that I love
I turned to my lover and I said, “Baby,
you know I dig having you around,
but I think I want to be alone now…” and then
the beating of my heart was the only sound
So I think life is just a game of seven card stud
and the only way to win is to bluff
and make everyone I know think I care for them
when in fact I’m the only one that I love
I’m the only one that I love
I’m the only one that I love
If you see me out tonight, please say hello
I’ve got a double-date with Margaret Cho
I’m the only one that I love

HEAVENLY
Do you take pleasure in the form of little tablets
or do you take it in mountains of meaning?
Does it depend on which way your mood is swininging
or which direction your tower is leaning?
Whenever you peep through the keyhole
what is it that you want to see the most
Do you stay out of harm’s way until there’s harmony?
Or do you lay your own rump out to roast?
And when your time comes do you want to go
to the Heavenly Bibliotheque or the Heavenly Discotheque?
Is your checkbook full of numbers?
Is your bedroom full of thieves?
Are you the picnic basket at society’s gathering
or a colorful pile of fallen leaves?
Are you the abandoned shoe hanging on the telephone wire
or the limo in the overflowing lot?
Do you have to cite examples every time you feel fine?
Are you the programmer or are you the robot?
And when your time comes do you want to go
to the Heavenly Bibliotheque or the Heavenly Discotheque?
Do you know how to make the perfect cup of tea?
Do you know how to make the perfect martini?
Do you drink up every drop of every bottle in the bar
hoping at the bottom there’ll be a genie?
Do you find you have to play every night and every day
or do you keep your toys padlocked in the attic?
Tell me about that smile creeping across your face
Is it ecstasy or are you just ecstatic?
And when your time comes do you want to go
to the Heavenly Bibliotheque or the Heavenly Discotheque?
Does heads mean you win and tails mean you lose?
Is reality really just a waste of time?
Do you make ends meet by making sure your meetings never end?
Do you prefer the fall or do you prefer the climb?
Do you wake up singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning”
Or do you wake up singing “Ol’ Man River”
Is your soul the bird that soars across the sky everyday
Or is it the package that the post office never delivers

LAUNDRY CHUTE
Paid to give dirty looks
the kind that don’t rub off
paid to give insults
the kind that don’t fly
Solid steel the snow of the summer
I don’t speak I moan
the mating call
attention to detail
justifies being alone
Will you, will you, will you go on
will you go on all right
will you, will you, will you go on
Handcrafted, a memoir
told in twenty parts
Held over by demand
and a series of false starts
craft services prime numbers
the best of the batch
the six of diamonds
lost in the shuffle
a dozen eggs waiting to hatch
Will you, will you, will you go on…
All the birds are exhausted
and the tigers have lost their stripes
the Bushman is off of the payroll
He doesn’t want your advice
With tenderness and a weather vane
you come to me for a thrill
but I threw the baby down the laundry chute
and leapt off the windowsill
Will you, will you, will you go on…

THE HISTORY OF ENTERTAINMENT
First there was the written word
followed by the mini-skirt
Then there was the gallows
which was so good it hurt
All the stars started falling down
and the sun started lagging behind
All the trash went out to the sidewalk
and then back into my mind
I turn you on when I want to be entertained
and I turn on you when I cannot contain you
You didn’t think stupidity
could ever make you smile
but even the intelligensia’s in absentia
for a while
The buried treasure I seek
isn’t as deep as the tabloids claim
and I’ll excavate it from any pretty face
or any faceless city boy’s name
I turn you on when I want to be entertained
and I turn on you when I cannot contain you
It’s a slippery bar of soap
I wash my own mouth out with
after I’ve spent the evening
spilling drinks and talking shit
but it’s either feast or famine
It’s either steak or salmon
It’s hard to be forgotten
when you’re spoiled and rotten
I turn you on when I want to be entertained
and I turn on you when I cannot contain you

NATURAL EYE SHADOW
You make a living just by being yourself or who you claim to be
You defy all laws of communication effortlessly
How did it feel to not be paid any attention at all
How did it feel to not be paid any attention at all
Now that you’re all made up with nowhere to go
In natural eye shadow
You talk up a storm to convince yourself you’re not alone
But I look at your face and I hear your voice but it’s all dial tone
And your undivided attention is divided up and sold to anyone
with a compliment to pay
But you find out once the check bounces you’ve already
given yourself away
And you pray that your face won’t show off your
natural eye shadow

I SAW YOUR CAR
I saw your car in my neighborhood
I saw your car in my neighborhood
as I went out to buy some dope
I saw your car in my neighborhood
so what are you doing here in Park Slope
I know Miles said the two of you should grab lunch
but that was four years ago
Are you really still in touch
with all the people I know
I saw your car in my neighborhood
the same stickers all over the back
I saw your car in my neighborhood
the same dent on the side, the same ski rack
There was a time when you were the last person I
wanted to tell my secrets to
But now I miss the way you locked all the doors
and pulled me close to you
Inside your car in my neighborhood
I hadn’t heard from you in a good two years
when you were studying for the bar
and I’m happy that you’re out of your shell again
But maybe you should get back in your car
and drive out of my neighborhood
I saw your car in my neighborhood

MY TEENAGE STRIDE
Jenna was a sports bride in the making
and she made it irrevocably clear that she wasn’t taken
Darin was a little more critical back in those days
He said that her backside was like his mother’s less-edible entrees
I loved her as an only an ignoramus can
in those days of roses and Colors for Men
Though we spent hours lying on her bed
Every word from her was a pat on the head
But all that notwithstanding
nothing could break my teenage stride
My French teacher only lived to leave me in the lurch
without fail he made me feel like I was stuck in church
I disagreed with you when you said that he was fey
I just didn’t know there were men who still looked like Danny Kaye
With you as The Great Pumpkin and me as Charlie Brown
I was crestfallen when you moved to another town
And the shrine that I had built to you in the study hall
became a pithy quip on the bathroom wall
But all that notwithstanding
nothing could break my teenage stride
You are in love with Julia
and that is your fortune
and you are in love with Jeremy
and that is your misfortune

FUCKING THE PAST
Here you go again
I know it all too well
It’s a sad sad story
but it’s never too sad to tell
Your voice drips with honey
Your face has an angel’s glow
but I know the reason
no one else knows
that I can’t reach you (’cause you’re always out)
and I can’t touch you (’cause you’re always out)
I’m going nowhere fast
’cause you’re always out fucking the past
you’re always out fucking the past
Here you go again
You’ve wrapped yourself up in plastic
when voices in your head
got too sarcastic
You say you’re making your peace
and then you can move on
But you’ll always be underachieving
and overdrawn
now I can’t see you (’cause you’re always out)
and I can’t hear you (’cause you’re always out)
and I know this won’t last
’cause you’re always out fucking the past
you’re always out fucking the past
you’re always out fucking the past
you’re always out fucking the past
and you never get off…
And when all this is history
And to your list you’ve added me
With every stone you cast
you’ll be knocked out fucking the past
you’re always out fucking the past
you’re always out fucking the past
but you never get off…

THE JITNEY
I know there are prisons for people like you
with file sharing, foie gras, and formal wear
and Guillaume Depardieu shows up at your cell
every morning to read you Baudelaire
Your hair dryer blows out only good news
Your razor smooths out all the scars on your wrists
And you’re the most popular person in Paris
according to all the tourists
The jitney is waiting for you
If you don’t take risks then why go on living
though the risks aren’t what we make them out to be
because the world isn’t the chess board you think it is
it’s 20,000 leagues under the sea
The world only gives you a three-gun salute
When you’re face down in a mold of plaster
And you have someone to hail a taxi for you
And someone else to call you a bastard
The jitney is waiting for you
Past the end of the shoreline is a potpourri
of sunken treasure and sunken S.U.V.s
Past the end of the shoreline is tranquility
But we don’t really want that, do we?

NEW YORK’S GLORIOUS NEW WAVE
When New York’s glorious new wave
has washed everyone up on the shore
I’ll be living comfortably in Montreal
and wondering whatever the hell for
When the water balloon has popped
that once held New York’s glorious new wave
I’ll have the peace and quiet
and disappointment I crave

FINGERPRINTS
My fingerprints are everywhere
and it’s no accident
My fingerprints are everywhere
and you know what that means
It means that I am calling to ask you what my
alibi is
I am calling to ask you what my
point in life is
My fingerprints are everywhere
They’re all over you
My fingerprints are everywhere
You know what they’ll ask you?
They’ll ask, “Who’s that scrunty guy you see on
every Sunday?
And that stuff he keeps at your house…
Can we see it?
Can we see it?
Can we see you every Sunday?
Or until his fingerprints aren’t anywhere…”
My fingerprints are everywhere
and I’m a method actor
My fingerprints are everywhere
and I’m a method actress
Acting like a prima donna in a canyon
shouting curses
Making unfounded claims
for better and worse
better and worse
And it’ll get better on Sunday
Once my fingerprints aren’t anywhere…

SAILOR
When your ship would come in you used to blow it away
and build yourself a thick transparent wall
But now you’re standing in the airport by the baggage claim
with a sign that says “come one come all”
So in the morning when the whistle blows and bells chime all around
I’ll be hammering my head until it’s blue
And if it makes me feel any better than this
Then I guess that that’s the best I can do
You had your palm read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be shipping out to sea
You had your mind read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be slipping out of me
You thinks he’s a perfect specimen of humanity
More like what you want to be, but I don’t agree
Well you’re a captive audience for whoever turns you on
So if you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands when I’m gone
he says his heart is full of love when it’s black
You swore that you would never be so kind again
But then you slapped him and made him take you back
You had your palm read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be shipping out to sea
You had your mind read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be slipping out of me
You had your palm read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be shipping out to sea
You had your heart read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be slipping out of me
Where do you think you’re going to?
Who do you think you’re running to?
You think he’ll turn you into something astounding
but you don’t see the child within you drowning
You had your palm read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be shipping out to sea
You had your mind read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be slipping out of me
You had your palm read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be shipping out to sea
You had your heart read by a sailor
Tomorrow you’ll be slipping out of me

THERE THERE
I walked into a closet
and up stood the Lindbergh baby
who said, “All men need a place in this world…”
I tripped in a cornfield
Banged my head and broke my nose
Now who knows where my love goes
There there
Security is that which you couldn’t trade in
to take away the horrified looks that you’re seeing
or for a timeshare in the Caribbean
Your friends are all close to inhuman
Satanically hedonistically wired
Don’t you know even Caligula got tired
There there
He says, “I can’t write worth a dime
but still I want to lead a literary life,
with a publisher for a wife…”
He weeped his way into your life
By making you think it was him you adored
Don’t you know even Hitler got bored
There there
We’re not the type of people
who make the bed and take out the garbage
We wait around for someone to tell us we’re not just garbage
The Lindbergh baby led me into the bar
Babe Ruth and his friends used to drink at
He said, “You should have seen the looks on their faces…”
Dropped on our heads just like
A handful of seeds on a barren nation
Well, how’s this for a consolation
There there

I GOT LUCKY
I got lucky
and made off like a bandit
Got slaughtered like a lamb
But felt the touch of your hand
I felt your pulse
And for better or worse
Your time had long since passed
But you made the hours go fast
The smoke was rising
A child was wheezing
And now I want everyone I love
to come back to my home in the past
This isn’t your fault
This isn’t your fault
This isn’t your fault
but it’s not mine
I got lucky
And held the essence in my fist
Now I’m not sure if I don’t exist
or if I do

HEY CAROL
Hey Carol, did someone make you cry?
Well maybe I can kick his ass for you
or maybe I can get my brother to
Hey Carol, you should have told me he was so unkind
’cause I’d remove his limbs from the rest of his body
like I was Sonny from the Godfather movie
and if that didn’t work, well, I’d look him straight in the eye
and say, “You made Carol cry, you made Carol cry,
and if you can live with that I guess you can live with anything.”
Hey Carol, we could do this all the time
Stay in the fields and run and jump about
or sit and gossip ’til our tongues fall out
Hey Carol, we could be lovers in another life
but as it is we have to make this precious
and protect each other from the ones who hurt us
but if I found out that someone put a tear in your eye
I’d say, “You made Carol cry, you made Carol cry,
and if you can live with that I guess you can live with anything.”
I wonder how he’d feel after that…
pretty shitty… at least that’s how I’d feel
but it couldn’t be any worse
no it couldn’t be any worse than how he made you feel
How he made you feel…
Hey Carol, did someone make you cry?
Well maybe I can kick his ass for you
or maybe I can get my mother to
Hey Carol, we could be lovers in another life
but as it is we have to keep this precious
and protect each other from the ones who hurt us
but if I found out that someone put a tear in your eye
I’d say, “You made Carol cry, you made Carol cry,
and if you can live with that,
well if you can live with that,
if you can live with that I guess you can live with anything.”

CARAVAN OF KINDNESS
What do you want me to say
Now that we’re alone for the first time in a while
I know you’re mad that you ended up paying for the train ride
You may be thinking
That there’s something terribly disappointing
about me coming all this way and not giving you what you’re missing
Now that I’m in one place
Let me tell you, as much as can I
You were a caravan of kindness
You were a caravan of kindness
You were a caravan of kindness that I watched go by
Don’t look at me that way
With the guilt that seems to clog up your pores
Don’t you know it took me almost two hours
to gain my composure
I stopped into a gift shop
Run by some of the boys from your block
And everything was either too small or cost too much
So the only thing I can give you
is a line so true it must be a lie
You were a caravan of kindness
You were a caravan of kindness
You were a caravan of kindness that I watched go by
I was only sleeping
Because that’s what happens when you’re out all night
I’ll be on my way home tomorrow and you won’t have to think of me
‘Cause I don’t want to hear you tear me up anymore
and I don’t really want to explain why
You were a caravan of kindness
You were a caravan of kindness
You were a caravan of kindness that I watched go by
I watched go by

THE MECHANIC
A mechanic somewhere in his forties said to me:
“You leave parts of you behind everyday.
Just like the junk that I work on–always falling apart
and we spend money on putting ourselves back together.
You leave parts of you behind as you’re falling apart
just like the junk that I work on everyday.
We spend money on putting ourselves back together.
We spend money just to prove that we’re okay.
All these people who sit on benches all day–
you think that they’d get the idea by now.
They think that everything’ll change if they sit around and wait.
Well, I won’t let anyone dirty try and eat off my plate.
And I won’t let anyone make me look like a fool.
And I won’t let anyone break into my house.
Everyone thinks they’re so together and that’s how it will stay,
but you leave parts of you behind everyday.”

HORSE SONG PART 1
I am the voice
at the end of the horse
I’m away from my desk
‘Cause I’m passing the torch
To an old brilliant thinker
I’ve got him hook, line and sinker
A pale albatross
hangs from a strand of floss
next to the cross
’round the neck of the horse
and the sounds of an anchor
piercing a tanker
It’s the garden variety tool
On your garden variety show
Directionless and sad
is the runaway fad
So you think you’ll stay
but they know you’ll runaway
On the back of an ostrich
that’s holding you hostage
Plans are laid
again and again
by the best-laid mice
and the best-laid men
Just a few blocks from genius
Lies the door to useless
It’s the garden variety tool
On their garden variety show
He was shot
He died on the spot
His family picked his car up
at the parking lot
I heard through the grapevine
that they found him on the coastline
On the first day of fall
I left a note on the wall
Asking, “Why won’t you call?”
To nobody at all
except the ghost in the pantry
who resembled Tom Landry
He’s the garden variety tool
On my garden variety show
I am the voice
at the end of the horse
I am the voice
at the end of the horse
And all of Park Avenue South
can’t get my hoof out of my mouth
I’m the garden variety tool
on my garden variety show

ONE TABLE OVER
There’s a minstrel on the monitor
and he’s taking off his proverbial clothes
His smile is old and his flesh is brown
Singing about singing
The posse comes riding up
the leader yells, “drop that shoplifted shirt
and while you’re at it give us your wallet
or we’re gonna come out shooting”
You said, “The whole deal is pretty crap.”
And I said, “No way, man… it’s beautiful.”
“The things you like to tell me don’t make any sense…”
That’s your idea of an insult
But I may take offense
Just in case you don’t come up with anything else
When they take away your plumbing license
You’ve no idea how cruel life can be
And top it off there’s a couple talking about plumbing
One table over from me
She said, “The way you live is immoral.”
And I said, “Nuh-uh sister… it’s beautiful.”
Silver studs and sweats of pink
Just make me see red
They make me want to betray all my friends
and slay the scumbag who sold me a hacky-sack
then stole it back
When they take away your plumbing license
You’ve no idea how cruel life can be
And top it off there’s a couple talking about plumbing
One table over from me

HORSE SONG PART 2
He pulls down the shade and says, “I’m starving.”
Which can have any one of several meanings
He lets the time pass through him
Like a snowman in a sauna
Now no one knows that you were here
except me and the horse that you rode in on
She gets out a deck of unused playing cards
And she deals you out a hand of eight
And you slowly give them back to her
Because you don’t like the hand she gave you
Now no one knows that you were here
except me and the horse that you rode in on
No one knows that you were here
Except me and the horse that your rode in on
You dream of her touch as cold as a
November day in the bleachers
But her hand against your face just reminded you
what you thought of your features
And you got busted in your sleep
I sacrificed all the things that we believe in
for the low low cost of five-hundred dollars
and believe me when I say,
it was a small price to pay

YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO TO BED EARLY ANYMORE
Too many times have you been bound
by a thought of staying up to hear
a voice call to tell you you’ve been had
Or we almost had you
We almost had you and
Now’s the time for you to repent
You’ve heard me before in all the
thoughts you’ve had of what I might be
So much love I can hardly express
I love what you’ve done with your life
And if it all ends soon
I’ll look at you with a sense that I never knew
I never knew your tastes and your distains,
your ways of dealing with yourself
and everything you felt
The moments that you treasure
are all locked away
A careless display
Of nothing you can measure
Anything that’s self-evident
or anything I don’t understand
That’s what I’ll base my life around
When I find I finally can
This is what I’ll remember:
The man who stopped walking
looked up at the sky and wondered what it was for
You don’t have to go to bed early anymore

HARDWARE STORE
I told a joke to the guy in the hardware store
and he laughed for what seemed like hours
He hollered and screamed for more
I told a joke to the guy in the hardware store
and now it’s posted on his front door
I’ve got a scar on my neck, I got it in my prison days
I was holding up truck stops
You might say it was a phase
I got the scar on my neck back in my prison days
and that hurtin’ feeling stays
I’m gonna make it to Boston at least by New Year’s Day
I hope it’s not like everyplace else
Maybe that’s where I’ll stay
I’m gonna make it to Boston by New Year’s Day
I wonder what she’ll say
If you see my name in colored lights don’t ask me why
If I throw away my glasses to get contacts
Don’t think I’m a different guy
If you see my name in colored lights don’t ask me why
‘Cause I still want to die
Now I’ll sing you my story if you’ll promise not to sob
About my life gone awry
How I’m a schmuck and a slob
I’ll sing you my story if you’ll promise not to sob
‘Cause the guy in the hardware store didn’t offer me a job