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couchgrouch last won the day on April 13 2017

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  1. Thanks folks...there's a demo of this in the works. I'll post it when it's ready.
  2. Castle of Immortal Dreams ©2018 Robert George BMI When my so-called friends have gone And the going gets rough What good were they, anyway When they say I’m not good enough Now my heart needs a home Where my faith can survive In a castle of immortal dreams I keep hope alive When I’ve fallen through the cracks And I’m facing defeat Things easy to fall back on Just feel like retreat When choices I’ve been given Leave me chained and bound In my castle of immortal dreams Freedom shares her crown There are dark nights when it seems Time and fate are shaking hands That’s when my secret dreams Are busy making plans When the wind raging at my door Rattles both wood and stone In my castle of immortal dreams Love will be my throne In my castle of immortal dreams Love will be my throne…
  3. Thank you, Dan...and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book.
  4. hi folks...here's a link to my new book, The Will to Be. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FBPDPLG/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1530993245&sr=1-1&keywords=Robert+George+The+Will+to+Be and here's the first chapter. I hope you like it. The Will to Be Tucson, Az December 1978 A full moon hovered in her rearview. It was the sickly pink of a cauterized wound. Linda Paloma blinkered and pulled into the Santa Sierra Trailer Court. Boxy singlewides were lined up in precise formation like coffins bound for home and flag in back of a cargo plane. Small Christmas trees could be seen in the windows of a few trailers. A chain link fence that wouldn’t secure a petting zoo ran around the court. Linda reached between her legs, took one last swig of tepid McDonald’s coffee and parked by a silver 10x40 Airstream. She sat for a moment and rubbed her left calf. Her breath steamed the windshield and her mind began to monologue. “I’ll catch fuckin’ Xahuitle Gomez one o’ these days. Or I’ll chase down one of his scorpions and flip them. If I don’t, how will that fool Thigpen get another picture in the Daily Star and the damned Republic? How did I end up with that “Hey Kool-Aid!!” moron for a partner? He couldn’t outrun Ruth Gordon. Have another cruller, Thig, Mayor Monday needs your Flour Power dollars for his campaign. I’ll say one thing for Mr. Mayor, he knows business. He’s got Flour Powers outside cop shops in Phoenix, Tucson and Yuma. Now he’s got one outside our BP house. Gawd, Thig’s porked up at least twenty since it opened in April… I foot chase that muchacho a hundred fuckin’ yards, tackle him and gouge my calf on a rock. Thig comes puffing up and cuffs the guy while a Star reporter snaps a pic. Thig gets the write up, the plaque and the raise. I get my chops busted for needing a sick day to see about my calf.” Linda got out of her Border Patrol jeep, locked and shut the door, then walked the red paver pathway to her trailer. She fumbled for her keys while continuing her grump-a-logue. ”…Christ, it’s warmer out here than in the jeep. When’re they gonna get that heater core fixed? After sundown my nipples become pink witch’s hats. Thigpen keeps one eye on his pastry and one on my tits… Ehh, whatmIcomplainin’ about Mayor Monday for? His son’s a nice guy, if a bit spoiled n pansied. Kind of a thrill seeker, too. Rapeling down the Grand Canyon…what a twister-fuck that ended up being for his dad. Hadda call in a mountain o’ favors to keep him outta jail. Skydiving. No way in hell am I doing that with him, I don’t care how often he asks. Overheard him on the phone bragging about the ultimate dangergasm. Who knows what that could be? Can’t be too exciting at the lame ass location he was whisperin’ about. A bored, rich man-boy. Good company, though…” She stood on the small, red paver patio, unlocked the door and stepped up into the trailer. She flipped the switch to the right of the door and was greeted by the life she was wasting her life to earn. A thin brown carpet, a carnival-colored afghan lying on a sagging sofa like a death sheet. A dusty Zenith on two wooden crates. She’d varnished the crates with golden oak stain for that rustic look. A suitcase phonograph on a small roll top desk flanked by a couple of K-Tel albums. BM brown wall phone by a tiny, phlegm yellow stove with two dead burners. Whipping up anything other than instant coffee was a calculus problem. A small fridge full of diet soda, Swanson dinners, cold cuts, mustard and a bottle of Tickle Pink for her nights off. Fuck that fancy five dollar a jug Sangria her mom guzzles. Tick does the trick, just like when she was a cherry seventeen on the water tower with Jim Chism. Ok, fine…fifteen. Haha, I called him Chim Jism after that night with the Thai stick. He sure…I can’t believe I left that Redbook open to that article! If mom’d come in here snooping I’d’ve never heard the finale. ‘Bone Dry…the over fifty guide to sex’. It was all for you, Mom! You can still be fulfilled at fifty-six…you just hafta get…filthy. Then maybe Dad wouldn’t be drinking a twelve of Meisterbrau every day and Ernest and Julio Gallo wouldn’t be running out of damn Sangria. Like Dr. Joyce Brothers says, ‘it’s not frustration, it’s lustration…’” The wind kicked up outside and dumped Mr. Phillips’ metal trash can over. Linda dropped her McD’s cup in the garbage, put the oven on “bake”, cranked the temp to 450 and tossed in a meatloaf dinner. She set the stove timer , turned on the TV, grabbed a Diet Rite and plopped down to watch Charlie’s Angels. “Why does Bosley hafta look like a doughy meter reader? Couldn’t they cast a guy in his twenties who could do a pull up…? It’d sure be nice if Reggie came by tonight. I hope I wasn’t too forward giving him a key. His muff eating grin didn’t seem to think so. Says he’s got some business to tend to tonight, though. Probably at some dull, after dark board meeting getting reamed by his dad for having no ambition. That’s ok. After my King’s buffet I’ll drag out my notes and do a little more thinking on Gomez’s new coyote route. If that doesn’t put me to sleep, it’s a Sominex washed down with a swig or two of Tick. Several wets I’ve interrogated claim border crossers on foot have been disappearing. Not many, but enough to get a few rumors started. Some say it’s dumb ass redneck vigilantes. Mike Riordan is a BB brain with lotsa mouth and money but he wouldn’t kill illegal aliens. Even if he wanted to, he knows he’d get life if he was caught. His angle is mostly politics. Could be one of his dipshit supporters. What really vexed my gall was that dumb snatch from channel 9 suggesting it’s a zealot Border Patrol agent…” Linda sat passively and forked her meat loaf dinner, mopping up the surprisingly tasty sauce with one her mom’s homemade tortillas. Cheryl Ladd karate chopped a bad guy while showing a lotta cleavage. Nothin’ for the ladies, though. Bosley looks like Billy Carter’s dentist…his mole really puts a bow on the whole package…damn, I sure wish Reggie’d put in an appearance…” She watched a little local news(the anchors were a knock-out Chiquita and a Fudd gringo. What a shock), then she shut off the tube, watched the picture fade to a small blue dot and disappear.” Life in a nutshell, Linda. A sloooow blue faaaade.” She popped her pill, took a long belt of Pink from the fridge and walked into her 8x10 bedroom. She laid her service weapon on the nightstand by her yard sale lamp. The moon was silver now and its light leaked around her old, bent Venetian blinds like mercury. She undressed by the quicksilver moonlight, leaving off the lamp. She hung her uniform over the handlebars of her K-Mart exer-cycle. “That damned seat is hard and pointy and feels like that time my ex tried to…gotta remember to stop by U-Totem in the morning for a map of the desert. I don’t know where my other one went. I asked Thig about it but he swore he didn’t know. He probably wiped his greasy hands on it and tossed it when he picked me up the other day. The fat fuck. Yup, a visit from Reggie would be reeaal nice. I don’t even mind that yarmulke hairpiece he wears. So he’s got a bald spot? It kinda came loose when I was grabbin’ his head last week. You’d think a guy with his cabbage could afford a rug that wasn’t glued on with Fixodent. Oh well, que sera…and be honest before you meet the Sandman, Linda…you were fourteen years old.” Linda pulled back the covers on her double bed and climbed in. The sheets were cool and felt good on her skin. She was mildly buzzed from the Sominex and Pink. She thought she heard a muscle car pull into the trailer park and a door slam. Naah…couldn’t be. Her door knob jiggled, there were footsteps and a man’s silhouette stood in her doorway. A sultry whisper…”Linda, you awake…?” “I am now. Climb in…” “Just a sec…” The silhouette retreated from the doorway and fussed in the living room. The needle dropped on a scratchy record and Lou Rawls’ voice penetrated her bedroom. Boots hit the floor and pants were unbuckled. Jesus, she was already dripping like a rainforest. He slid in beside her and they began to French like teenagers… The moon was higher now and no longer squeezing through Linda’s blinds. Her trailer was dark and she was snoring softly. Her clock was set for five AM. A small gust of wind blew through the trailer court and rattled old Mrs. Perkins’ awning. The shadow froze. Its eyes had adjusted to the dark and were able to make out Linda’s shape beneath the covers. Nice figure. For sure. The shadow raised the forty-five and pointed it at Linda’s chest. A damn shame to defile those tits. Suddenly Linda rolled to her side and reached for her nightstand. She grabbed something, pointed it at the shadow and pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft. Linda jerked four times and lay still. Her right hand clutched something long and tipped. The shadow leaned over for a closer look, chuckled softly and left the bedroom. It locked the front door, shut it quietly and jumped the Trailer Court fence.
  5. country... The Shape of Whiskey ©2018 Robert George BMI Well, I met her in Atlantic City, She was charming, beautiful and witty And we’d make love along the ocean side But she kept her secrets buried, I didn’t find out she was married Till my heart was swept out with the tide And when love was taken by the restless sea It was waves of whiskey that returned to me Now the midnight lights above the ocean’s roar Are like starfish on a dark, eternal shore Cos I let myself get tangled In a fiery love triangle And it left my fortune cold and misty She’s not someone I’ll forget Time’s a circle of regret Just like the shape of whiskey Now the moonlight’s bathing in the ocean And it’s moving with the sensual motion Of a woman with a stolen kiss to hide She casts a shadow on my loneliness That reveals me like a Rorschach test And the midnight lights above the ocean’s roar Are like starfish on a dark, eternal shore Cos I let myself get tangled In a fiery love triangle And it left my fortune cold and misty She’s not someone I’ll forget Time’s a circle of regret Just like the shape of whiskey O she’s not someone I’ll forget Time’s a circle of regret Just like the shape of whiskey Like the shape of whiskey The shape of whiskey No, I can’t escape The shape of whiskey…
  6. If I can get a good composer for it, yes.
  7. The Ghost of Tears ©2018 Robert George BMI There’s a lighthouse on the coast of Maine High above a foggy pier Some say fog is like the ghost of rain But it’s like the ghost of tears Well, she watched him climb aboard his rusty trawler And she said she didn’t care about their debts But a late September catch would fetch top dollar So he sailed into the sea’s eternal net There’s a lighthouse on the coast of Maine High above a foggy pier Some say fog is like the ghost of rain But it’s like the ghost of tears Waves were salty mountains and the wind was gale force Then his fishing vessel foundered in the squall Now the midnight moon above her is a pale horse And his death feels like the deepest debt of all There’s a lighthouse on the coast of Maine High above a foggy pier Some say fog is like the ghost of rain But it’s like the ghost of tears Yes, there’s a lighthouse on the coast of Maine High above a foggy pier Some say fog is like the ghost of rain But it’s like the ghost of tears The ghost of tears The ghost of tears…
  8. I Believe Love ©2018 Robert George BMI When the far horizon Grows dim with shiny lies I remind my spirit That soon the sun will rise Yet there’s something even more trustworthy Than the coming of the dawn So in my darkest hour I know love’s the greatest power Heaven could conceive of When dishonor does surround me And my doubts are all around me I believe love I believe love That’s when I believe love When the chill of cruelty Makes me feel cold and numb I assure my spirit That someday Spring will come Yet there’s something more than seasons turning That my soul relies upon And in my darkest hour I know love’s the greatest power Heaven could conceive of When injustice does surround me And my doubts are all around me I believe love I believe love That’s when I believe love Time may crumble all of my endeavors And yet one thing will endure forever So in my darkest hour I know love’s the greatest power Heaven could conceive of When dishonor does surround me And my doubts are all around me I believe love I believe love That’s when I believe love
  9. hey everyone...here's a new tune co-written with Ricki Bellos and Michael Zaneski. Mike did the production and vox. I hope you like it as much as me. https://www.soundclick.com/bands3/?bandID=431939 FAR FROM MY ONE TRUE LOVE Ricki Bellos/Michael Zaneski/Robert George BMI 2018 The sun is in the jagged hills The purple skyline starts to blur I need comfort from the fear Then in the twilight I see her And the half-moon above Is a quiet, peaceful dove But until it lands On these hostile sands I’ll be far from my one true love Far from my one true love There are times I look up and ask, Will the stars mourn me when I die? And if I mean the world to her Maybe I mean something to the sky And the half-moon above Is a quiet, peaceful dove But until it lands On these hostile sands I’ll be far from my one true love Far from my one true love And the half-moon above Is a quiet, peaceful dove But until it lands On these hostile sands Yes the half-moon above Is a quiet, peaceful dove But until it lands On these hostile sands I’ll be far from my one true love My one true love Far from my one true love
  10. hi folks...here's another. hope you like it. The singer is Melissa Duvall. https://www.soundclick.com/bands3/?bandID=431939 Cherokee Rose in an Old Tin Can Robert George- Mike Morgan-BMI She hung out her husband’s laundry in the morning light And she saw a rose beside their rusty singlewide It had wrinkled petals and that rose was fading fast So she plucked it from the gravel and the dry brown grass she figured that a soup-can vase Would be better than a bed of rocks and sand she grew to love the ragged grace Of a Cherokee rose in an old tin can her husband drove off when the tavern opened up And she thought about her choices as she scrubbed the tub How she married young to get free of that foster home How a drunken husband is like bein’ on her own And the lonely bed she slept on Ain’t much better than a bed of rocks and sand But tonight she’s goin’ to be strong Like a Cherokee rose in an old tin can She stood looking at that flower With a teardrop on her nose It needs something more to flourish, Only tenderness can nourish Such a fragile rose Soon as he came home that night and passed out in his chair She made sure she brought that rose and drove on out of there She’d had some babysitting money squirreled away And by sunrise she’d be almost half a world away Set that soup can on the cracked dashboard Headed eastward in that old sedan Soon the morning found that rusty Ford And the Cherokee rose in an old tin can
  11. hi folks. this a guitar/vocal demo sung by Jason Spears. Hope you like it. https://www.soundclick.com/bands3/?bandID=431939 She Accepted It (But He Never Did) Robert George- Mike Morgan I remember how my mom, Sat there lookin’ calm While my father said there’s somethin’ that her doctor musta missed Sold his golf clubs at the pawn-shop Drove that Chevy non-stop Up to Cleveland so my mom could see a well known specialist Even toward the end he never gave up hope Faith became the only way that he could cope She accepted it he never did Dad remained a married man He still wore his wedding band out on the porch at night he still talked to her rockin’ chair , he’d sit and sip Jack Daniel’s Pet their Cocker Spaniel And let his memories paint my mama’s portrait in the air he’d say it’s someone only true love sees That could move the wind chimes when there was no breeze their love would last After mom had passed She thought it was interesting How the fragile flowers grow Tulips spend the winter resting Then rise up through melted snow And there’s somethin’ out there bloomin’ From the tears of wintertime And it’s somethin’ more than human By the grace of God’s design then Dad slipped away On a quiet night last May I did some listening while walkin’ through their house and yard Two white stones beneath a fir tree Told me they were free And somewhere up in heaven they’d never be apart It feels like a new beginning…not an end And I’m filled with hope when I remember when She accepted it he never did Even toward the end he never gave up hope Faith became the only way that he could cope She accepted it he never did
  12. Love is a Dream That Never Sleeps ©2018 Robert George BMI O her lips, her skin and hair are gifts of rubies, ivory and gold She’s a dawn mirage, a midnight fantasy that I can hold And where my soul can really live Yes, love is a dream that never sleeps Love is a vow forever keeps And your eyes are stars I wish upon, They shine ever brighter after dawn Because love is a dream, Love is a dream that never sleeps I will sin without repentance for your scent, your kiss, your touch Because, my love, I believe your passion is as much As hell or heaven freely give Yes, love is a dream that never sleeps Love is a vow forever keeps And your eyes are stars I wish upon, They shine ever brighter after dawn Because love is a dream, Love is a dream that never sleeps She’s a will o’ the wisp That’s floating free and clear A sister of shadow and mist My heart can see and hear And love is a dream that never sleeps Love is a vow forever keeps And your eyes are stars I wish upon, They shine ever brighter after dawn Because love is a dream, Love is a dream that never sleeps Love is a dream that never sleeps…
  13. Dawn Upon the Distant Waves ©2018 Robert George BMI People in that fishing village say her name was “Dawn” And they say he’d mourn her death eternally So maybe it was madness painting that mirage Of a woman walking ev’ry morning on the sea O he used to go down by the ocean And he’d stand out on a misty pier His spirit was a vessel of emotion Sinking slow beneath a tide of tears Cos he’d think about his long, lost lover Her deep green eyes and her deep blue grave Sometimes it’s like day dreams could uncover Dawn upon the distant waves People say he built a small sailboat and called it “Dawn” And they say he christened it with homemade wine Some old folks believe he scuttled it himself Others say they see it when the day begins to shine Cos they take a walk down by the ocean And they stand out on a foggy pier Their superstitions entertain the notion Of a ghost boat on a sea of tears Cos they think about his long, lost lover Her deep green eyes and her deep blue grave Sometimes it’s like their day dreams can uncover Dawn upon the distant waves O he used to go down by the ocean And he’d stand out on a misty pier His spirit was a vessel of emotion Sinking slow beneath a tide of tears Cos he’d think about his long, lost lover Her deep green eyes and her deep blue grave Sometimes it’s like his dreams would uncover Dawn upon the distant waves Dawn upon the distant waves Dawn upon the distant waves…
  14. Goddess by the Moon ©2018 Robert George BMI She can kiss a Paris sunrise like a virgin queen Dance with jazz musicians in the depths of New Orleans And she will lift you with her secret wings She is jasmine blooming in the dark Carefree as a morning meadowlark She is pure and lovely in the light Then peculiar and alluring in the night O she’s a woman at high noon And a goddess A goddess by the moon She’s a saint to homeless children in the street Then a sinner with her lover in the summer heat And she’s a desp’rate prayer when she sings She is jasmine blooming in the dark Carefree as a morning meadowlark Sometimes she’s a stranger in the light Sometimes her love burns with danger in the night O she’s a woman at high noon And a goddess A goddess by the moon O when she’s undressing, she’s a blessing and a curse She consoles you, she controls you, she’s the universe She’s the opposite of what life needs you to explore O and that just makes you want her all the more She’s the joy uncertainty will bring She is jasmine blooming in the dark Carefree as a morning meadowlark She is pure and lovely in the light Then peculiar and alluring in the night O she’s a woman at high noon And a goddess A goddess by the moon Sometimes she’s a stranger in the light Sometimes her love burns with danger in the night O she’s a woman at high noon And a goddess A goddess by the moon A goddess by the moon A goddess by the moon…
  15. for spoken word... I Hope She Was Worth It ©2018 Robert George BMI I hadn’t talked to him in twenty years or more Since we chased those coeds and divorcees on the Boca Chica shore We’d disagreed and had a falling out When he fell in with a crooked crowd I googled his name and thought I’d shoot him an e-mail Turns out he was stewin’ in the Cameron County jail Some kinda crazy legal tangle Homicide and a love triangle with some high class married tail I drove down for the last week of his trial Jury foreman read the guilty verdict with half a smile I signed in to see him late that day He looked at me through the bullet-proof glass A coupla minutes passed Cos we couldn’t think of what to say He was quiet And didn’t deny it So I shook my head and finally said “I hope she was worth it” He said, “Old friend I guess fate caught up with me You prob’ly never heard about that nursing home scam in Tennessee But surely you remember that time in the Poconos That high school tease and her father’s broken nose There’s a laundry list of warrants and restraining orders Runnin’ cockfights on the border Poon n pills n powder in the Quarter Hell, I almost hope the judge doesn’t give me life I’d rather get the needle than be a prison wife Ten years of appeals in a Federal pen Then, old friend, comes the end” I was silent but my eyes said it again “I hope she was worth it” The guard smiled when he said “She had auburn hair and a scarlet muff She was tight as a blood pressure cuff You wouldn’t know it to look at her She’s dainty as a tea-cup Her husband was a millionaire and a local mayor But she’d signed an airtight pre-nup There was a martini murder plot A will was forged before the weekend on his pleasure yacht Then came the mickey’d lemon sauce, the double cross And the dental floss garrote She got richer And I got the blame The cops got the picture Cos she built the frame She had Hades in her kiss And blessings in her blouse A fat insurance check I was the prime suspect And she got a one-way ticket to Laos I’m guilty as sin God knows where I’ve been I’ve got no right to pray And old friend, you found me somehow And you’re gonna sit there now and say “I hope she was worth it” Well, he leaned back in his chair Ran his hand through his hair Thought about what should’ve been And what was Thought of magnetism, thought of lust Thought of death in prison and hell after dust And without guile He flashed a smile And said, “She damn sure was…”
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