Posts Tagged ‘country music’

Blowing up Babies

March 15, 2011

Blowing up Babies

We’re lost and we’re angry
We ain’t got no plan
And we’re blowing up babies in Afghanistan

Things are falling apart
All across the land
We’re still blowing up babies in Afghanistan

Only fools wanna mess
With festering clans
Let’s stop blowing up babies in Afghanistan

When’d we all get so stupid?
I can’t understand
Why we’re blowing up babies in Afghanistan

Soldiers sign up
To protect the homeland
We make ’em blow up the babies in Afghanistan

We need our leader
To be a man
And stop blowing up babies in Afghanistan

by Richard W. Bray

Neglect

February 26, 2011

Neglect

My fire used to burn when it was stoked
Never cleaned the chimney; house full of smoke
Creosote ain’t no kinda joke
Time to fix my bike; tighten every spoke

My dog used to love me till today
I ran outta food; guess he run away
I go to the park; no one to play
Canine nutrition; important every day

My friends came over every night
Didn’t pay my bill; turned off all my lights
Now my possessions; completely outta’ sight
Much misery for a simple oversight

My mother used to feed me every day
Then I grew up; she made me move away
Fast food and frozen dinners; really not okay
Learn how to cook before going on your way

A maid used to come and clean my place
Till it got so messy; simply a disgrace
Everyone says I’m a basket case
That housekeeper can never be replaced

My uncle used to help me fix my car
I never checked my oil; won’t make it too far
I’m filling all the skies; smoke, soot and tar
Check those fluids; be a highway star

Neglect used to be my middle name
Caused so much trouble; had to change my game
First thing I did; accept all blame
Ignoring all my problems; just too lame

by Richard W. Bray

Cruel Crazy World

December 24, 2010

Cruel Crazy World

I go out each day
Confronting
Hazards and constraints
I bear it all
So joyfully
Without any complaints:

Traffic jams, mudslides, maniacs, bug bites
Derelicts, hurricanes, potholes, red lights
Pranksters, liars, idiots, road crews
Bad news, salesmen, rain delays and dog doo
Frustrated road-ragers, terrorists, and tidal waves
Lunatic zombies climbing right up out their graves
Bad coffee, typhoons, forty-car pile-ups
Degenerate freaks and unrequested dial-ups
Backfires, flat tires, insolent creeps
Nattering nitwits boring me to sleep
Seedy backstreet sideshow demons
And everyone is always scheming

I come home to you
And you hug
The pain away
Ready and refreshed
I’ll face
Another blessed day

by Richard W. Bray

Status Update

December 18, 2010

Status Update

My sister met
A man online
Who showed up at her place
With choc-o-lates and roses
And my boyfriend’s face

Status update:
You’re deleted
I scrubbed my profile clean
You’re a liar and a cheater
And a lousy human being

Block all further access
Gonna find
Somebody new
A guy who ain’t too flirty
Don’t need no skeevy dog like you

I left him for
Five minutes
Alone with my best friend
He asked her for her number
And a hundred bucks to spend

Status update:
You’re deleted
I scrubbed my profile clean
You’re a liar and a cheater
And a lousy human being

Block all further Access
Gonna find
Somebody new
A guy who ain’t too flirty
Don’t need no skeevy dog like you

I hear his phones
‘Aringing when he’s
On the other line
Who are all these women
Calling all the time?

Status update:
You’re deleted
I scrubbed my profile clean
You’re a liar and a cheater
And a lousy human being

Block all further Access
Gonna find
Somebody new
A guy who ain’t too flirty
Don’t need no skeevy dog like you

I’m so sad
And lonesome
What’s a girl to do?
I just need a decent guy
Who’s rich and tall and handsome too

Status update:
You’re deleted
I scrubbed my profile clean
You’re a liar and a cheater
And a lousy human being

Block all further access
Gonna find
Somebody new
A guy who ain’t too flirty
Don’t need no skeevy dog like you

by Richard W. Bray

Bleary Blob of Blue

December 8, 2010

Bleary Blob of Blue

Time is just a concept
And I am just a fool
And the last fourteen hours
Are just a bleary blob of blue

I think I lost my girlfriend
I think I lost my mind
I know I lost my dinner
I can’t find my behind

I think I lost employment
I know they took my car
I lost everything that matters
When I stepped inside that bar

I’m overcome with sickness
My brain’s a filthy stew
I cannot stop these tremors
And my body feels like goo

I think I lost my girlfriend
I think I lost my mind
I know I lost my dinner
I can’t find my behind

I think I lost employment
I know they took my car
I lost everything that matters
When I stepped inside that bar

This county holding pen is
Just as cold as I am dry
Right now I need to rally
Just to find the strength to die

I think I lost my girlfriend
I think I lost my mind
I know I lost my dinner
I can’t find my behind

I think I lost employment
I know they took my car
I lost everything that matters
When I stepped inside that bar

by Richard W. Bray

Parkwood to Rosewood

December 6, 2010


Parkwood to Rosewood

I met a gal from Fresno
Drivin’ down the line
Drinkin’, Dancin’, Motel Rooms
We had ourselves a time
But I got misdirected
She just walked away
An’ I been clawing my way back
Across the USA

Parkwood to Rosewood
To Kenwood to Pine
Gotta find my baby
And see her one more time
Cedar to Maple
To Dogwood to Vine
I’ll do whatever it takes
To make that woman mine

I rumble round America
One city at a time
Truckstops, bars and diners
Someday I will find
That gal who made
My whole world sing
I got to make her mine

Parkwood to Rosewood
To Kenwood to Pine
Gotta find my baby
And see her one more time
Cedar to Maple
To Dogwood to Vine
I’ll do whatever it takes
To make that woman mine

by Richard W. Bray

Stupidity Shows

November 22, 2010

reality tv

Stupidity Shows

Had a lovely time at Larry’s
Till they turned on the tv
We spent the evening watching morons
With their phony rivalries
Grownups trading insults
Like they’re still in jr. high
Silly self-indulgence
Fifteen minutes passes by…

Read a book,
Chop some wood
Or take yourself a walk
Anything is better
Than hearing losers squawk
Ride a bike,
Brew some tea
Or dream yourself a dream
And miss those morons eating bugs
To beat the other team
Hug your kid,
Go to church
Or fix yourself some grits
Don’t waste your precious life
Watching losers pitching fits

by Richard W. Bray

Brass Tacks and Brambles

October 26, 2010

hungover

My life’s in shambles
Brass tacks and brambles
Rumblin’ around in my heart
I’m losing my balance
And drinking up gallons
Since you and me been apart
I’m stuck in my bed
I done lost my head
My get-up-and-go fell apart
I’m hazy and dazy
Wayward and crazy
I really ain’t actin’ too smart
I’m busting up bars
And crashing my car
It’s time for rehab to start
My life’s in shambles
Brass tacks and brambles
Rumblin’ around in my heart

by Richard W. Bray

Heartbreak

August 24, 2010

I won’t be there
To watch you grow
And share your life with you
I’ve given up
The right to know
About everything you do
I lost my chance
To be with you
And see you every day
To see you smile
And hear you cry
And learn from what you say
The memory
The times we had
Feel like a missing limb
I can’t get back
To where we were
I never will again

by Richard W. Bray

So Many Fishes

July 22, 2010

So Many Fishes

Well I was drinkin’ whiskey outside my local bar
When a fine young Southern beauty pulled up in her car
I sidled right up to her just as suave as I could be
To offer her a chance to share my splendid company
I said, “Hello Little Darling, how exactly do you do?
I reckon that you realize that I’m the beau for you
So sit your fine young body on the hood of my car
And I’ll take the time to tell you just how cute you are.”

That beauty just looked up at me
Without a hint of sympathy
And opened up her lovely mouth
I couldn’t believe what done come out:

You don’t look that good
Your eyes ain’t blue
You dance like a mule
And you smell funny too
You pants are too short
Your hair’s too long
You don’t wash your car
And you never clean your bong
You ain’t been to school
To learn good grammar
Most of your kin
Is livin’ in the slammer
You ain’t got no job
You live with your mom
And I wouldn’t date
Any Harry, Dick, or Tom

Well one bad apple don’t deter a buck like me
Cuz there’s so many fishes in the deep blue sea
So I stepped inside the bar and had myself a seat
I was scoping out some honeys, the kind I love to meet
When I spied the type of vixen who couldn’t resist my charms
It was my duty as a gentleman to sweep her in my arms
I said, “Now hey there darling, where’ve you been all my life?
Your stunning gracious beauty, it cuts me like a knife.”

The buxom bombshell turned on me
Consumed with vile hostility
And in the course of one deep breath
Explained how much she’d love my death:

You don’t look that good
Your eyes ain’t blue
You dance like a mule
And you smell funny too
You pants are too short
Your hair’s too long
You don’t wash your car
And you never clean your bong
You ain’t been to school
To learn good grammar
Most of your kin
Is livin’ in the slammer
You ain’t got no job
You live with your mom
And I wouldn’t date
Any Harry, Dick, or Tom

by Richard W. Bray