Dilemmica

(to Everclear's "Santa Monica")

I hate this yoga and this
Pose
Bending and twisting
I can’t reach toes
I don’t think this move can
Help spine
I don’t think this move’s
Completely sane

Had some big bland fruit
And some no-taste shakes
I do believe they’re made with the silt from lakes
I just want to be a
Fit guy
I don’t need to run a
5K race, what a bore

I just want to eat some
Ice cream
When I try, I find
My butt grows with ease

So I drink the rancid potions
Exercise behind
Life coach on retainer
Wish I had pie

So I keep my legs in motion
Simple life denied
No more mashed potatoes
Wish I had wine

So now I’m running here in
Place
More like a waddle, though gaining speed
Can’t get away
Who the hell said this is
Good time?
I just want to eat some
Crunch and Munch and a Smore

I have no doubt
That there’s another way
Not liposuction or de Sade pain play
I don’t want to be the
Fat guy
I just want to do a
Jumping jack then the door

I don’t need to be Joe
Sunshine
I would rather surf some
Cool sites on Google Chrome

I don’t have the drive, devotion
Lack the fire inside
Best with sleeve of crackers
Bag of pork rinds

But I’ll put my bod in motion
Leave the snacks behind
When I talk to waiter
Ask for less fries

Yeah ask for less fries
Yeah ask for less fries
Yeah ask for less fries
Then ask for more pie

Shame

(to David Bowie's "Fame")

Shame (shame)
Whips the wind, takes things over
Shame (shame)
Words let loose, full on throttle
Shame (shame)
Shout it out, “They’re not model”
Shame

Shame
Expose the vain
And light the flame
And hope for change to make someone
Tame

Shame (shame)
Is it right to be ungentle?
Shame (shame)
Is this raging transcendental?
Shame (shame)
Is there need to be parental?
Shame

Shame
Nine to five
A choice to chide
So get in line to rage at the
Slime

(Who can pass the test
who can pass?
To a ‘t’, to a ‘t’?
To agree with flame
Holy aim
Simple game
Easy maim)

See a silly blunder
Let’s assess the mess
Shame, shame, shame, shame
Who believes in thunder
To try and cool the fool?
Shame

Shame
Bully is who?
Bully are we?
Got to punch, inflict lots of
Pain
Shame

Shame

Meet the Weasels! (Cruz edition)

Delayed Again, Naturally

(to Gilbert O'Sullivan's 'Alone Again, Naturally')

It’s a little late this hour
And I sit feeling just a tad dour
I’m telling myself
It’s fine, dear self
At least I got laptop power

My trav’lin’s come to stop
I hear the gate talk
“We are sorry to
Now report to you
That your scheduled plane
Has not landed”

For ‘nother flight I search
For a berth
But they’re all saying
“Oh well, that’s tough
You’re out of luck.
No seats on board remaining.”
I’ll wait to fly on home
Guess I’ll charge up my phone

Delayed again, naturally

I think that I’ll be on my way
Maybe April, could me May
Saw fam’ly who
Look somber too
The kids are all too tired to play

Though the trip may knock me down
A lager beer brings me round
So I’ve parked my butt
Near the bar nuts
And there ain’t no cashew pieces

Maybe I should pout
But I doubt
Look brings me mercy
So I’ll just slowly take a sip
Order ham and turkey
Take an hour to feed
I’ll buy a book to read

Delayed again, naturally

It seems to me
I’m spending more time
Waiting at a gate
That’s unattended
A trip upended
Not leaving soon
Not leaving soon

Delayed again, naturally

I’m thinking
While watching the time
It’s a nuisance
But I’ll survive
I remember my life
And my lovely wife
And I’m dreaming when I’ll arrive

Now it’s fifty-eight past nine
I should’ve been gone by five
But I understand
Flight is gonna land
I’ll be boarding soon
No need hatin’

Sit here by the gate
And it’s late
I could be mopin’
But no, a song appears to me
Some words for this here postin’
My hands now type away
The rhymes you read today

Delayed again, naturally
Delayed again, naturally

(I Sold a Song) And Made Some Loot

Catchy lyrics bring me all my wealth
Writing songs for cash is comfy, I confess
I take the words bouncing deep inside my brain
Then I send them flowing, it’s an earworm you disdain

I sold a song and made some loot
Some say I’m menace
There’s no better living, paid to rhyme
There’s many say that I’m a loon
To sell a song and make some loot

There are worser crimes, the crimes that never pay
I’ve better way, my imagination craves
I aim to instigate some way for wealth to procreate
Then I write offending, a phrase that won’t leave mind.

I’ll sell a song and make some loot
Don’t feign indifference
You’re just jealous of my moneyed rhymes
It’s something you should try and do
Just write a song and make some loot.

The lyrics, gold refined
Ya ya yaaa
Ya ya yay a
Ya ya yaaa
Ya ya ya ya

I sold and song and made some loot
I sell you burgers
Or some tepid tacos, if inclined
There’s nothing I can’t sell to you
You’ll hear my song and spend some loot…

Want…to…buy…more?

I sold a song and made some loot
This song is finished
And I’m writing newer, better rhymes
With commerce, you know I’m in tune
I’ll write a song and make some loot.

We Are The Smart In Texas

(to "Deep in the Heart of Texas")

We’re sage and bright

And oh so right

We are the smart in Texas

We all look fly

With weapons high

We like our guns in Texas

The gays we’ll prune

And fix them soon

They aren’t our type in Texas

We think our gov

Should cure their love

You should be straight in Texas

Those science guys

Are none too wise

We change the facts in Texas

So school book texts

Will be an-nexed

We love our kids in Texas

See the felons wail

Inside our jail

You will be caught in Texas

Let’s kill them all

Then shop in mall

We keep it light in Texas.

(Note: This by no means reflects the heart and soul of many thoughtful Texans. It only speaks to the conservatives who want to take Texas back to the 19th century.)

Pon Far

(to the Beatles' "Hey Jude")

Pon far
I got it bad
It’s a sad song
Hope it gets better

Year seven
Ain’t heaven here in my heart
Wish it would part
Would make things better

Pon far
Makes folks afraid
If you bring soup
It makes me angered

I’ll fling it
The bowl will zoom at your head
If it were bread
It might be safer

And every time I feel the pain
Pon far’s
Insane
I long for the heat of home called Vulcan

Till then my loins will never cool
Pon far
Will rule
Stay clear and be safe while I am copin’

Pon far
Please beam me down
Warmy weather
Won’t need no sweater

I’m tethered
To lady, sans a good heart
She wants no part
She likely loves leather

I’ll fight it out with Cap’n Jim
And he
Won’t win
Some maiming for someone I have worked with

I did not know that doc would do
Some med
Kung fu
And suddenly fight is quickly over

Pon far
It makes me sad
All the mad things
They make me wonder

If maybe,
The urge to mate would be oft
Wouldn’t be cross
I’d like that better, better, better, better, oh…..