YOU SCREAMING JUNGLE MOTORCYCLE

I  PAINTED YOU BLACK

REAL BLACK

ALL BLACK

YOU DIRT BIKE YOU

I RIPPED THE KNEES OUT'A ALL MY PANTS

FALLING DOWN WITH YOU

WE CLIMBED HILLS

AND RODE ALL THE WAY AROUND GUAM

THE ENTIRE ISLAND

MANY TIMES 

WE'D GO THROUGH FIELDS

OVER THE BEACH SANDS

INTO THE JUNGLE

IN THE RAIN

And on Nice Sundays

STOP FOR A ROOT BEER

TOO BAD I HAD TO SELL YOU

TOO BAD

the early morning fishermen

 

limbs paddle lightly

with no worry where they've been ...

half a haze, half a sun

the early morning fishermen

still and looking

 patience sits me quiet, calm again.

waiting to see how the day feels ... begins.

how calm are you this morning?

you won't leave me in the dark forever.

a pie is sweet and so is cake

when you bake just right

overnight you warm with low heat

you know what a treat it will be

to have a slice with coffee.

warms my heart to think of it.

when we'll sit, have a slice,

that sound nice?  

let's put it together so it happens.

daylight reaches the swamp

 there's room on the log

stuck in the bog

where there's a frog

or two, singing.

Interesting voices they have,

in harmony soothing as salve

they croak in tones                                       

pure and ringing.