satire

I’m Gonna Treat Ya Like You’re Not My Wife

If you were my lover

I’d hold ya tight

But you ain’t my lover

You’re just my wife 

If you were my lover

I’d make ya moan and scream

But you’re not my lover

Who gets naked in my dreams

If you were my lover

I wouldn’t holler you wouldn’t bitch

But you’re not my lover

You no longer scratch my itch

If you were my lover

I’d take ya home

But you’re not my lover

So I’m sleeping alone

I’m gonna take ya on a date

I’m gonna treat ya right

I’m gonna treat like a girlfriend

I’m gonna treat ya like you’re not my wife

If you were my lover

I’d give ya hugs and kisses

But I’m not your lover

You’re not my mistress

If you were my lover

You’d be my fantasy

But you’re not my lover

What ya get is what ya see

If you were my lover

I’d take you to bed

But I’m not my lover

That’s what you said

If you were my lover

I’d ask you to marry me

But you’r not my lover

You’re already my wife ya see

I’m gonna take ya on a date

I’m gonna treat ya right

I’m gonna treat like a girlfriend

I’m gonna treat ya like you’re not my wife

Trump Off!!!

No one can scarcely remember much about Benedict Arnold other than it’s a name you wouldn’t want to be called.  It became an adjective for being a “traitor”, a “hypocrite”, a “two face” and a “loser”. History has a way of putting people like Mr Arnold and others of questionable character into proper perspective. For example, how about the term “Soup Nazi”? Or, the unflattering comparisons related to being a Judas, or a Jim Crow or an Uncle Tom. Then there’s the infamous cliche of drinking Jim Jone’s “Cool-aide”. And who could ever forget Ivan the Terrible or Typhoid Mary. It’s true, our actions ultimatly dictate our epitaph.

In a hundred years from now the name Trump will be remembered synonymously with someone who’s a liar, a cheat, a bully, a racist, a narcissist and an over all unsavory character.  In the future it will be common to substitute “Trump” for expletives or curse words such as, “He’s got his head up his Trump.” “Go Trump yourself”. “You really got Trumped on”.  “That’s a bunch of Trump.” “You can kiss my Trump.” “I gotta take a Trump”. Children will have their mouth’s washed out with soap for calling someone a low down “mother Trumper”. Graffiti artist will tag subways, buildings and walls with “Trump-isms” such as “What you’re seeing and what you’re reading is not what’s happening.” 

Someday there will be Heavy Metal Bands bearing his moniker, for instance “Trump and the Dead Dictators”. Insolent teenagers will wear black tee shirts bearing the face of  a sneering Trump. These bands will make Ozzie and Slip Knot look like Lawrence Welk.. 

He will become one of the most famous anti-heroes and will be known as“Terrible Trump the Orange Menace.” His superpower will afford him the ability to turn lies into the truth. He can turn peace into chaos and tranquility into drama. He’ll have the power to throw lightening bolts of hate and create divisiveness with his loud mouth thunder. He’ll make the Hulk and Godzilla look like Pee wee Herman and Mary Poppins. His kryptonite is truth, humility and compassion. 

As the saying goes, “Careful what you ask for”. Donald got what he wanted——— eternal fame—-but I’m sure not in the manner he had expected. But, if the shoe fits the mouth, then insert it.

 Well, it’s time for me to stop “Trumping” around and get the “Trump” out of here.

Fuck Nashville

Dedicated to all those songwriters who’ve been written off, underestimated and overlooked. It’s for the outlaws, freaks, rebels, mutineers and renegade poets.

Turn on the radio

Country station playing crap

You can keep your country hip hop

And your cowboy rap

Chasing trends

Chasing dreams

Everyone trying to be

The next big thing

It’s all flash and flare

Manufactured stars

Songs spit shined and sold 

Just like used cars

Ya heard it in a song

Swore it’s’ written just for you

Pedal Steel crying

 Voice ain’t pretty, but it’s true

Heard it at the Ryman

And the Grand Ole Opry

You’ll know it when you hear it

Cause it sounds like country

These days, I swear

Johnny Cash couldn’t get a record deal

That’s why I’m here to say 

Fuck Nashville

This towns built on music

Child of gospel and blues

Country music is simple

Three chords and the truth

Call me old fashioned

Say I’m an old fool

Cause I still play Merle

Guess that makes me old school

I’m headed back home

This town don’t care for me

Play my music on my front porch 

With my friends and family 

Turn on the radio

Country music, is this what I get?

Every song sounds the same

Different twang, same old shit

Heard it at the Ryman

And the Grand Ole Opry

You’ll know it when you hear it

Cause it sound like country

These days, I swear

George Jones couldn’t get a record deal

That’s why I’m here to say 

Fuck Nashville

Sadder Than A Country Song

A novelty comedic song with political implications.  It’s sure to piss off rednecks, republicans and Trumpers. Give it a listen and tell me what you think.

Thanks