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DOWN IT GOES, THE HEADMAN’S GOLD, SO ROUND SO WHITE AND PURE. TO BRING A LIFE OF HAPPINESS, TO THE BEHOLDER I AM SURE. AND WHILE I WAIT, IMPATIENTLY, I THINK OF THE JOYS, THAT IT WILL BRING. AND HOW IT WILL MESS ME UP, IT’S AMAZING WHAT’S IN THAT STUFF.
I am getting older, happily so. Lost in new technology that I at one time mastered. My biggest concern is, that, I can enjoy , music of my youth , today as I did yesterday. What music are my grandchildren going to cherish when they reach my age. I assure you ( rap my ass) and (bitches and whores) (kill the white man) and any of Miley's songs will NOT survive the test of time..What music will they hear that will bring back a memory of old? NONE of to-days music..and that saddens me greatly as it should you..
My very best of friends had called me about the loss of a child after her sickness. I was writing a poem at the time of the phone call. All I did was change the name. Spooky but true.
I heard of the passing of my oldest brother, Frank, in Las Vegas, and the song wrote itself. The best of brothers you could have asked for, 18 months later my second oldest brother, Jerry, passed. The best brother you could ask for.
While napping one summer afternoon, a thunderstorm came up and one big-ass clap of thunder raddled my front door and I wrote the song in my head as I woke up.
You all have been in bathrooms with match-sets of pretty towels hanging , and were afraid to wipe your hands on them..Hence the song