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couchgrouch

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couchgrouch last won the day on April 13 2017

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  1. Old Navy Footlocker

    Old Navy Footlocker ©2018 Robert George Well, I climbed that cobwebbed staircase with some old bolt cutters And they sliced that Master padlock just like it was butter Then I lifted up the lid and felt his mem’ries flow out Brushed away some dust then looked inside and I had no doubt I’d found the stark, unvarnished truth Deck of cards, a handmade chessboard and a barbecue fork An old Sinatra forty-five of “New York, New York” And a sad memento from the Mekong River The tiny piece of shrapnel that’d nicked his liver During two tours of a tarnished youth O my granpa’s soul was wise and old But he never was a talker Now it seems his tales are being told By his rusty Navy foot locker Fam’ly recipes for pasta and a spicy calzone Pottery and trinkets from the Panama Canal Zone First edition Faulkner and a vintage Batman, too There’s a necklace made of stingray leather with a shark tooth But the only thing that seemed to hide a dark truth Was a barmaid’s snapshot down in Katmandu O my granpa’s soul was wise and old But he never was a talker Now it seems his tales are being told By his rusty Navy foot locker Found some faded photographs beside his Dundee lighter And they proved his last days as a tough, bare knuckle fighter Left him with a scar and cauliflower ears Then I thought about my own life and the time I’ve wasted How life is sometimes sweeter for the sour fruit we’ve tasted While forever siphons our years O my granpa’s soul was wise and old But he never was a talker Now it seems his tales are being told By his rusty Navy foot locker Spoken I was playing poker in a tavern in Nepal Losing big and drinking pure grain alcohol When a grey-haired barmaid with a kind, familiar face Turned up at the table like a lucky ace She said my crooked smile and eyes of ocean blue Looked just like a dashing lover she once knew…
  2. Memories are the Ghosts

    Memories are the Ghosts ©2018 Robert George BMI There’s a hoot owl in a hollow oak, Far off hills were full of mist and smoke As I shut the window and I drew the drapes Grabbed another cold one from the fridge, And I tried to build a daydream bridge Although deep inside I know I can’t escape Cos regrets are like a film projector And they fill this room with foggy specters I can see the blurry charcoal silhouette Of a lovely waitress down in Lafayette And there’s shooting stars above the cypress trees Where a nurse’s hair is sailing in the breeze As her ragtop peels out up the coast And there’s teardrops in a poet’s turquoise eyes From the night she saw through my transparent lies Now my kisses are unwanted, my vacant heart is haunted And my mem’ries are the ghosts Each night I can see them dance and sway, In a shadowy ballet As the love I gave the wind takes shape And those shadows question me at random Is it them or true love that’s the phantom Cos tonight I see the blurry silhouette Of a lovely waitress down in Lafayette And there’s shooting stars above the cypress trees Where a nurse’s hair is sailing in the breeze As her ragtop peels out up the coast And there’s teardrops in a poet’s turquoise eyes From the night she saw through my transparent lies Now my kisses are unwanted, my vacant heart is haunted And my mem’ries are the ghosts Since I told them all I needed to be free I’ve been bound by chains of lonely liberty Cos my kisses are unwanted, my vacant heart is haunted And my mem’ries are the ghosts Yes, my kisses are unwanted, my vacant heart is haunted And my mem’ries are the ghosts My mem’ries are the ghosts…
  3. Magic

    Magic ©2017 Robert George BMI Moonlight poured like mother’s milk upon the river’s mouth And a honeysuckle wind was softly blowin’ south Tommy rolled a tire to the muddy riverside Pushed it in and sailed off in the dark, receding tide Past the shoots and rushes to a shadowland unknown Far from tears and pain of yet another foster home Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic Though it sounds like madness, somewhere in the sadness Hides the secret of magic Tommy saw a slow train on the trestle up ahead And the cars were painted crazy green and blue and red One car was a hay filled cage with elephants inside Tom slipped through the bars and caught a faster, drier ride As the train rolled into Georgia at the break of day Vagabond the Clown found Tommy sleepin’ the hay Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic Though it sounds like madness, somewhere in the sadness Hides the secret of magic Well, they stopped a mile outside of Macon, And the clown fed Tommy eggs n bacon While the carnies pounded stakes and set up colored tents When the hungry boy relayed his lonesome story, Vagabond could feel the hand of glory And how life was bound together by coincidence Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic Though it sounds like madness, somewhere in the sadness Hides the secret of magic Vagabond was versed in all traditions of a clown With two purple teardrops just above his painted frown He performed his first coin trick when he was four And once juggled knives for tips outside a liquor store O his youth was littered with regrets and midnight sin And his cards and coins suspected where his kiss had been Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic And the hardest lessons, are the soul and essence And the secret of magic Tommy loved the hoopers, mimes and hawkers, Midgets, acrobats and tightrope walkers So Vagabond received permission for the boy to stay And he taught the child a sense of purpose, That the curse and blessing of a circus Was in how performers’ roots could wander day to day Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic Though it sounds like madness, somewhere in the sadness Hides the secret of magic He’d show Tom a few tricks while they shoveled out the cage Pleased and proud that Tom learned quickly for a kid his age He’d say sleight of hand just means distracting men From the clear reality that’s right in front of them As the clown revealed the seeds of ancient circus arts He soon divined perception in young Tommy’s heart Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic Though it sounds like madness, somewhere in the sadness Hides the secret of magic Well, they found poor Vagabond one mournful day Trampled by the elephants and dyin’ in the hay All the freaks and outcasts gathered ‘round that lonely boy And they told him life was Fate’s to conjure or destroy They said don’t let sudden death distract your view When your whole life yet remains in front of you Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic And the hardest lessons, are the soul and essence And the secret of magic Tommy begged the hoopers, mimes and hawkers, Midgets, acrobats and tightrope walkers For two favors that might ease his anger at the stars Now his father’s resting by the river, Learning real illusion from forever And there are teardrops painted on the sides of circus cars Life’s a twilight bridge between the brilliant and tragic Though it sounds like madness, somewhere in the sadness Hides the secret of magic
  4. How to Walk a Girl Home

    It's not a jackhammer but yes you can, esp if there's bunch of them in some leaves or grass.
  5. How to Walk a Girl Home

    Thanks Barney. Crickets can make noise. Not alot, but it's audible.
  6. Santa Muerta Station

    Santa Muerta Station ©2017 Robert George BMI I remember feeling half asleep On my first night working here I guess I was used to working days Early on in my career Though I’m not sure why they transferred me Life is loss and sacrifice Now I’ve grown accustomed to this job And it feels like paradise Someone always greets the passengers Near their final destination Strangers often need a friendly guide At the Santa Muerta Station We are high up on a mountainside Where the pine tops kiss the moon Sheets of grey fog settle over us Ev’ry afternoon There’s a grove of crosses on a slope Past the gate behind the church Ravens watch the midnight train roll in From a roof top perch Someone always greets the passengers Near their final destination Strangers often need a friendly guide At the Santa Muerta Station People laugh and claim how fortunate they’ve been, How they lived through accidents that they’d been in Climbers fall from cliffs and hikers bit by vipers way down south They step off the train so happy they’re alive, Asking me in whispers how they managed to survive One poor vet was sure that pistol had been in his mouth I inform them all they need to know Tell them this is just a whistlestop Come the dawn there’ll be a winding walk To the mansion on the mountaintop It’s a bit confusing right at first And it’s awkward to explain I was sure a truck had crushed my Ford That night I stepped off the train But someone always greets the passengers Near their final destination Strangers often need a friendly guide At the Santa Muerta Station
  7. Destiny Takes a Heart

    Destiny Takes a Heart ©2017 Robert George BMI I was sitting in a Paris bistro all alone Killing time until my midnight flight back home When she looked up from her sketchpad at my uniform I could see her red hair was a rose without a thorn Then she asked to sketch me in the dancing candlelight And her voice was like a French kiss in the lonely night Love is like the light Shining from a secret star And it shines forevermore When destiny takes a heart She began to draw my face with charcoal, And she found a spark within my dark soul Where I’d long believed my faith was truly dead She was mostly blessed but partly tragic, And her eyes were full of ancient magic Born from when the moon and sea were newlyweds Then I said goodbye because I had a plane to catch Sensing that my hidden scars were captured in her sketch Love is like the light Shining from a secret star And it shines eternally When destiny takes a heart I was down south dwelling in the Quarter, Tanqueray had filled my past with mortar I’d mistaken feeling numb for feeling free I was living in a kitchenette there, Ev’ry night I’d walk to Lafayette Square Where musicians played a part in healing me And a fog bank sat upon the river like a sphinx Then I saw her curled up on the long grass like a lynx Love is like the light Shining from a secret star And it shines forevermore When destiny takes a heart She was eking out a living painting portraits in the square I was eking out a death by living in despair And she led me by the spirit to a rented room Where tomorrow had been woven by Fortuna’s loom And she had my Paris portrait on a wicker shelf And she said my sadness was reflected in herself Love is like the light Shining from a secret star And it shines eternally When destiny takes a heart O it shines forevermore When destiny takes a heart We joined hands like time and fate and waltzed without a song Shadows seemed to whisper and the silence sang along Some believe the universe is moon and stars and math And yet it conspired to align our lonely paths Love is like the light Shining from a secret star And it shines eternally When destiny takes a heart O love is like the light Shining from a secret star And it shines forevermore When destiny takes a heart When destiny takes a heart When destiny takes a heart…
  8. Bayou Hazard

    Bayou Hazard ©2017 Robert George BMI Stole a car in Baton Rouge and did some time upstate Learned a trade in metal shop while makin’ license plates But when I got out I couldn’t find a job From freighthandler to longshoreman, I guess ev’ry foreman Was afraid of bein’ robbed Then I heard two guys went missing in the bottomland And sittin’ at a four-way stop gave me an awesome plan Took a loan out from a shady friend o’ mine Set up shop and started makin’ signs Caution: Bayou Hazard Danger up ahead Use some common sense and Take another route instead Cos there ain’t no sidewalk and there ain’t no blacktop Just a murky bog against a misty backdrop And there’s critters lurkin’ in the peat moss That’ll turn a man into a tangy meat sauce If you’re lookin’ for a place to build an auto-mall Best beware of voodoo queens with pins and burlap dolls Pay attention to the sign and watch out what you do Out there in the moonlit mire, she’ll dance around a fire Then stab a doll that looks like you And there’s pythons coiled in hollow logs Big enough to swallow dogs Caution: Bayou Hazard Danger up ahead Use some common sense and Take another route instead When that biker vanished in the quicksand All that turned up was his helmet and the kickstand And that poor disabled army medic All the gators left was his prosthetic Now you see them signs across the swampy south Blood red with a skull inside a gator’s mouth Some protestor thought one might be fun to loot Poachers found his mask while makin’ python boots Caution: Bayou Hazard Danger up ahead Use some common sense and Take another route instead Blame the city council…blame the mayor Cos some critter ate a land surveyor But good fortune blessed this former felon Cos those crazy signs are damn sure sellin’ Caution: Bayou Hazard Caution: Bayou Hazard…
  9. Fond Farewell

    Fond Farewell ©2017 Robert George BMI Scarlet teardrops dripping from the trees Floating westward on the Autumn breeze Their loneliness is tempting me to follow them back On the chilly night she hopped that train We were crackin’ jokes to hide our pain And dyin’ leaves had laid a downy quilt on the track Then she kissed my forehead in the soft moonlight Got on board and slowly slipped off in the night Now I wonder if the past will keep its promise And wine suspects that time will only tell But maybe our memories are better off If we leave our sadness and loss With a fond farewell It’s just human nature to pretend Our connection never had to end Cos hearts hold fast to kisses and forget the things they lack And they sometimes think a flame that cooled and dwindled Now deserves to be rekindled So I wonder if the past will keep its promise And wine suspects that time will only tell But maybe our memories are better off If we leave our sadness and loss With a fond farewell A fond farewell There are nights I look at sad October trees And I share their bitter, lonely tears I touch my forehead and it feels as if Her kiss hasn’t dried in all these years Then I wonder if the past will keep its promise And wine suspects that time will only tell But maybe our memories are better off If we leave our sadness and loss With a fond farewell O maybe our memories are better off If we leave our sadness and loss With a fond farewell A fond farewell A fond farewell…
  10. How to Walk a Girl Home

    thanks Gary.
  11. How to Walk a Girl Home

    How to Walk a Girl Home ©2017 Robert George It was a sunny Saturday in nineteen fifty-eight They met outside a matinee on an awkward first date But that foreign flick was boring, Then some guy started snoring They left early and the weekend buses always ran late She was gonna call her mama on the pay phone Till he said he knew a quiet, scenic way home They got milkshakes at the Tastee Freeze Walked a foot path through Magnolia trees They could hear the frogs and crickets speak Dreams and roses bloomed along a creek Twilight was a picture show Painted with a purple glow Then a slow n tender kiss In the silver evening mist When he left her with a rose She blushed and thought, “He sure knows How to walk a girl home” There were chiming wedding bells one April afternoon And he’d been planning well for life beyond the honeymoon Moonlight was a soda fountain, Splashing on a distant mountain As they drove back from a sweet, romantic week in Cancun Then he pulled off by a gate and parked his old Chevelle And they walked an old trail to a cabin on a hill And they saw a pair of graceful swans Courting on a peaceful crystal pond They could hear the crickets sing and play Dreams and roses bloomed along the way Love was written long ago Like forever’s picture show Then a slow n tender kiss In the silver evening mist When he picked his bride a rose She smiled and thought, “He sure knows How to walk a girl home” Oh, he was a wise old man of seventy-eight When his chariot pulled up outside that gate Two months later she was dozing in her rocking chair When he took her hand and led her far from there They went somewhere up beyond the clouds And received what heaven has allowed They could hear the frogs and crickets speak Dreams and roses bloomed along a creek Morning was a picture show Painted with a golden glow Then a slow n tender kiss In a rainbow sunrise mist When he picked his bride a rose She grinned and thought, “He sure knows How to walk a girl home How to walk a girl home How to walk a girl home…”
  12. Legends Hereabouts

    thanks Kerry.
  13. Legends Hereabouts

    Legends Hereabouts ©2017 Robert George BMI Lightning struck an ante-bellum mansion late one night It burned like the bowels of hell, and it seemed an eerie spell Was conjured by the firelight Then a hook and ladder rolled up in the smoke and fog But perdition ruled the dark, and it took the matriarch Two firefighters and a dog Legends hereabouts Say a soul escaped the graveyard’s catacombs You can jeer and doubt But this swamp is where a wily spirit roams Icy moonlight melted in the pines like candle wax Trevor turned his TV on, watched a Star Trek marathon While he drank a coupla cold six-packs Then he lit a Chesterfield and dozed off in his chair Flame consumed his singlewide, then a shadow slipped inside And dragged old Trevor out of there Legends hereabouts Say a soul escaped the graveyard’s catacombs You can jeer and doubt But this swamp is where a wily spirit roams Poor Natasha was an old whore, Who’d been hiding since the Cold War Then one night she wrapped her car around an oak Was it sabotage or gremlins, Faulty brake lines or the Kremlin Either way, a shadow pulled her from the flame and smoke Somethin’ in the brush n briar, Swam out in the muck n mire Saved a man who toppled off an old rope bridge Whispers soon maligned like tumors, Beauty parlors filled with rumors And what they suggested was pure sacrilege Those misfortuned souls were saved by firefighters’ ghosts And yet Sunday crowds were warned, such a thing was not suborned By those who made up heaven’s host Legends hereabouts Say a soul escaped the graveyard’s catacombs You can jeer and doubt But this swamp is where a wily spirit roams O we’re livin’ in a dark age, And the Good Book is a shark cage That protects our souls from predators outside Yet it’s hard to kill suspicion When it mates with superstition And the devil’s horsemen take the reins and ride Then one night ole Stan was loaded, When his homemade still exploded The roof collapsed and Stan was pinned down underneath Death was like a smoky dragon, And his savior’s tail was waggin’ When it dragged him from the still house with his teeth Ole Stan quit his hundred-proof that night and praised the Lord Cos if heaven welcomes hounds, yet the ghost dog stuck around Maybe this world is its own reward Legends hereabouts Say a soul escaped the graveyard’s catacombs You can jeer and doubt But this swamp is where a wily spirit roams
  14. Living a Song (That Someone Else Wrote) ©2017 Robert George BMI Monterey was wrapped in mist like an old grey shawl It was midnight and I smelled like brand X beer and Fireball I was starved for hope and faith When I stopped in that pawn shop on Oceanside and Eighth Then the store clerk showed me his selection of cheap guns My eyes said I just needed somethin’ that’d get the job done Lookin’ back now, I think somehow It was like a pencil in the hand of fate It erased my stars and drew an old guitar beside that thirty-eight It was like living a song That someone else wrote Ev’ry circumstance Is a step in a dance A secret waltz with silent notes Ev’ry new beginning My forgiveness for sinning And the chances I’ve been given All because I’m livin’ a song That someone else wrote Someone gave me tickets to a boy band concert up the coast But the crowd was crazy and the faces looked like living ghosts So I turned my car around and headed back to Monterey When I saw a fiddler on the street outside an old café She was playin’ with her eyes closed like her spirit saw the tune So I grabbed my guitar from the trunk of my car And our strings made love beneath the moon It was like living a song That someone else wrote Ev’ry circumstance Is a step in a dance A secret waltz with silent notes Ev’ry new beginning My forgiveness for sinning And the chances I’ve been given All because I’m livin’ a song That someone else wrote Sometimes life is just like jazz We can’t predict the twists and turns it has Though I have my own voice and make my own choice And sure as hell try to be free Sometimes it seems, like my plans and dreams Are part of heaven’s harmony Like living a song That someone else wrote Ev’ry circumstance Is a step in a dance A secret waltz with silent notes Ev’ry new beginning My forgiveness for sinning And the chances I’ve been given All because I’m livin’ a song That someone else wrote
  15. Ghosts

    Ghosts ©2017 Robert George BMI I’ve got gypsy rover in my roots and I was raised to travel There are certain places I can feel the spool of time unravel Some say history is sand but I say history is fluid Dripping from the breasts of Nefertiti on the tongues of Druids From the phantom engineers of ghost trains in the foggy Balkans To the skulls of modern buccaneers in sunken Pirate Falcons From the weeping wives who oiled and wrapped the corpse of Tutankhamen To the dancing shadow of an undead Maricopa shaman Though it’s an unsolved mystery It matters the most If the scroll of world history Was written by ghosts When I’m standing at an Arizona crossroads in a cool rain I can see a blurry caravan of wagons and a mule train Peaceful spirits in the ruins of a Spanish monastery Spectral paladins that guard an old Apache cemetery Ghostly Sopwith Camels over Europe with eternal pilots Bullet-ridden paratroopers dying on a bed of violets Pipers play Amazing Grace among the heather of the Highlands And it soothes the bones of lost Marines in south Pacific islands Though it’s an unsolved mystery It matters the most If American history Was written by ghosts Destiny is one more cardboard castle One more king and one more queen One more fortune teller Whose demise was unforeseen Death is like the smoke arising from a fallen dueling pistol Or the grey reflection in an old Romani woman’s crystal It rides double with a skeleton upon a midnight Harley And it mounts the wind that swims through moonlit North Dakota barley So I tread my boots across the earth and track its spells and curses And I sleep with doubt and wake with faith in other universes Dreamy worlds of apparitions that my spirit might inherit But I’ll only walk a cosmos that my present dreams will merit Though it’s an unsolved mystery It matters the most If my family history Was written by ghosts
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