Bill Smith Parker Sr.

I always hated driving

Mind explodes all over the windshield 

I always hated driving 

Big oak desk melts into ash under your feet

I always loathed organization 

TV explodes into mushroom clouds

Too much direct propaganda 

I always preferred moments in life when I was informed indirectly: a cowboy along the trail mentioned some bad weather up north could be heading this way.

 

At these old cross roads 

What ya gonna do boy

 

Life to the west 

love to the east

Torn by the choices you make

Can you live comfortably in the easy life

Will you ever be able to live in the days of the eagle spirit

 

Will you turn yellow as your liver crashes into the bourbon sea 

Your ship could catch fire 

Crash into the rocks of the coast with no lighthouse to be found

 

Will you turn grey with a fake passport 

Fall dead of a heart attack with your child upon your shoulders 

Lose your mind in dementia as you  straighten your tie

 

You miss you wife intensely as you vomit last nights party on the bathroom floor

 

All this idealism of fruitless existence really really hurts