A Good Philosopher Is Never Hard To Find

People write and they fight
And cause trouble despite
The fact that they haven't far to go.
Truth be told, there should never be a lull
For our heads overflow from a bowl,
And from the Grace of God, it is outlined
That a good philosopher is never hard to find.

I tell you this, you readers, my friends,
The fortunes you seek come from your self-reliance, which lends
Your ideas, my ideas, so diverse, and yet the same,
For we all are pawns of the same game,
And we only lose if our minds are confined,
For a good philosopher is never hard to find.

Ideas should be judicious, hearty and wise,
For what one construes as small usually is of great size.
Some philosophers built pillars to last all time
While others created despair by committing nature's crime.
To prevent what is evil, we must rely on all mankind,
For a good philosopher is never hard to find.

The world is about the beauty that is humanity,
Which is such a vast and diverse sea.
The ultimate gift to us was given
By God, who intended for us to be driven.
Nobody needs a doctorate or be assigned,
For a good philosopher is never hard to find.

A good philosopher is never hard to find.
I've said this once, and you've been through the grind,
But I must make this point known
Or in the wind will this message have blown.
I've said it once, and I'll say it again,
To not be logical is a grievious sin,
So make sure you obey the order that binds
For a good philosopher is never hard to find.

In The Ol' Country Diner

I met this sweet gal at the diner,
Informally, to say the least,
Yet, I'd known her since she was a young 'un,
Back many a revolving sun.
Ironic it is we met again like this.
Destiny was surely to be tested.
Times were sweet on that night
In the ol' country diner.

We exchanged greetings and salutations.
She was shocked to see me.
She was doing well, and looked fine, too,
And it brought something out in me.
There's nothing like the scent of a certain woman
That sets the beast in a man free.
Times were sweet on that night
In the ol' country diner.

She asked me how I've been over time,
And I told her I've been fine.
I never mentioned the hard life I've led
Ever since that break from the day.
Times haven't been easy for me,
That much is true to say the least.
Times were sweet on that night
In the ol' country diner.

Then, her friends came on over, men they all were.
Drunk as the eye could see, they made crude remarks, too.
I remembered my days in tomfoolery land
Back in past fallen sands.
I know that I could easily dive on in,
But I would be immoral to partake on such wild oats,
Yet, times were sweet on that night
In the ol' country diner.

Then, I thought, "What the hell?"
And proceeded over to her table
To obtain her phone number,
To which she smiled, blushed, and handed it to me.
Suddenly, my life was looking up
For this perpetual misanthrope,
And times were definitely sweet on that night
In the ol' country diner.

We got together at the courthouse
In front of the justice of the peace.
We got hitched, just us two simple folks,
In a simple ceremony plain for all to see.
Oh, it was wonderful!
I'd found the path to Shangri-la.
All this happened because times were sweet on that night
In the ol' country diner.

He's Coming For Us

He's coming for us, fellers.
Are we ready and prepared?
According to all the soothtellers,
We'll be running around scared.
He said to keep Him in our prayers,
In our hearts and in our minds,
But you felt the burden of the lack of affairs
From your contract of salvation which binds.

He's coming for us, my fair people,
To that, no one can deny.
He'll leave the weak and the feeble
And take those who glorified him high.
It isn't a matter of who's been evil or good,
And it isn't about imperfections.
It's about those who know what he would,
Not a question of preferations.

He's coming for us who are saved,
Free of the markings of the Beast.
He's coming for those who refuse being enclosed
And held captive in the lost souls' feast.
He's coming my friends, and the time is near,
Just you and wait and see, you hear?
I let Him into my heart yesterday,
So I know where to He'll take me away.

The Song That Never Lived (The Man From Liverpool)

In an old apartment, inside a dusty room
Lays a sheet of paper with writing on it.
I touch it. No pulse, but it can be plainly read.
Sad that it's composer, the man from Liverpool,
Never lived to see this masterpiece through.
He was gunned down in the streets of the city
By a mad man unaware of his tomfoolery.

Now, the world never realized the true consequences
Of this act of hate and occurance of fate.
The world never did know of words from the man's pen,
But they were more than just simple lyrics.
They were more or less the words of God shining down
Upon him. In essence, this was talent on loan.
The song only made it part of the way,
But like many a baby, it never had a chance.

No, the world didn't get to hear the song that never lived,
Nor did they really get more than just a taste, or more like a tease,
Of the splendor and grandeur which would surely have touched 'em.
The man was a genius, misunderstood (as genius is often misunderstood),
But this song has a loud and clear message.
Love. The one thing which unites man and woman.
The one thing that can save this world.

And all because of one absent-minded soul, that was crushed.
And we wonder when the carnage will stop.
The more I read on the man from Liverpool's notes
The more I weep. Yes. A grown man weeping over beautiful music.
It's been 25 years...25 years long gone, so long, long gone.
Will the world ever know true peace? That I cannot be certain,
But one thing is a definite, and this is as much truth as that of The Gospel:
The man from Liverpool may physically be gone,
But his spirit shall perpetually fly.

Just Another Day At The Wag Daddy Five 'N Dime

It's just another day in the nuthouse,
And it don't matter that it's Christmas day.
They claim they only want to help those who forgot,
But, indeed, what they forgot was about God.

It's just another day at the Wag Daddy Five 'N Dime,
Where the people are sick from head to toe,
Greedy as hell, they just bitch and they plea
All because they simply never wanna agree.
People around say I can't write down these thoughts
'Cause they're seditious, and I should be loyal to the pigs,
But I say, "Fuck you all, just go to hell,
Let me play some silly music and I'll make a rhyme."

It's another day for the perpetuation of Santa Claus.
Some kids don't know Christmas is really for Jesus.
The season is secular, constantly, "Happy Holidays,"
And the people in power don't seem to give a damn.
I'm not a perfect Christian, but I believe in Christ,
And this isn't what he intended.
People beg, barter, and yes, even deal,
As they spit on His great seal.

It's just another day at the Wag Daddy Five 'N Dime,
Where people commit the perfectly legal crime.
Where did the part of keeping a sabbath day holy go?
I haven't a clue except the folks in Chicago say, "So?"
They're open all day, everyday,
And it'll be that way until Kingdom Come.
They may be in control now,
But one day The Lord'll have his say,
And then they'll run from the devil, run.

Screw Me (I'll Screw You)

I worked hard for you.
Put up the boxes for you.
Dropped sweat from my body,
And it was all just for you
And that paycheck.
Then, you decided to screw me,
And what did I have to say?
You screw me, well, baby,
I'll screw you back.

I may be just a poor ol' boy
From the country a-workin' for a livin',
And you may be just a rich 'un
From the city, just a-sittin',
But I don't put up with bullshit,
Not from anyone, not even you.
You screw me, well, baby,
I'll screw you back.

I sacrifice my life and time
That I could spend with my family
All because I want to give them the world.
I work for you because
You're a means to an end,
Despite the fact that you screw me,
But I need the money,
And I guess that's why
I've taken it hard.
Just remember this, boss lady,
That I never forget the past.
You screw me, well, baby,
I'll screw you back.

The Game Of Love

Love is the greatest curse of all,
For, oh Lord, it has its grip on me so firm.
Many a time, I have thought I had a shot
Only to see that everything went for wrought.
Love is on a fine line with one other thing,
And the other side seems to be beating me at all costs.

There once was a girl, her name Stephanie,
A sweetheart who was as pretty as she could be,
And things were going well, oh, so well,
'Til the plague came and recaptured my mind.
My mental anguish was just merely a nuisance
Compared to the withdrawal from that which is impending.
Come to think of it, I'm still not over the girl,
And my heart aches everyday over this so.
Death couldn't feel any worse
Than the loss of my better half.

I've seen many girls, pretty and smart,
And they all thought I was some sideshow freak, a weirdo.
To them, I was a slug, something like that,
But whatever I was to them, nothing ever amounted to shit.
Time has rolled on since my near miss,
And I've gone on, done things, made money, the such.
I'd trade it all in for one more chance at Stephanie again.
Now, I'm a misanthrope, an unhappy lot,
A once proud soldier of The Lord now relegated to an ice-filled soul.

What is it I must do, my Lord,
To win at the game of love?
If I had you wisdom,
I'd make it surely show.
How can I be an obedient servant
And love not find its way from Your Route to me?
To this, I am perplexed and saddened
At my exclusion from the game.

In The Shadows Of Peers

I grew up in the shadows of peers
Shackled by my many fears.
They always seemed to be good guys and babes to me,
Living luxuriously, sipping arrogantly on their sweet tea.
Yeah, it so often seemed I was a-sinkin',
Even when tryin' to make 'em disappear by blinkin'.
What was I to do, much less to say,
When it was just my inner demons who wouldn't go away?

I've been down what Mr. Harrison called Bullshit Avenue 24 years now,
And so far, I've done nothing but kiss its ass and then take a bow.
I thought I was alone, but apparently I was not.
I had some admirers who'd be damned to see me rot.
With a lil' bit of coaxin' and a-brainwashin' to boot,
They helped me up by digging me a new hole to plant my root.
I was non longer in the shadows of peers,
Nor in sadness did I shed anymore tears.
You can't live a long life without a few good friends,
For they are, indeed, Godsends.

The Real Wonder Woman

(This is a tribute to a lady I attended high school with. Her dedication to her craft and ability to inspire the spirits of her students make her truly remarkable. I'm proud to say that I know her, and that she has made me want to achieve all of my dreams and goals in life. Johnna Jo, this one's for you, baby.)

The real Wonder Woman boarded her invisible jet at morn,
Destination: top of the world or bust.
She's been a bright-eyed child every since the day she was born,
And this was merely the beginning of her wanderlust.
But the journey to the top of the world
Would be anything but easy for this jetsetter,
For she would have to sift through the life with which she quarreled
And prove that she's a go-getter.

Oh, the girl had dreams as far back as in the womb,
And she was a natural if I ever saw one, and that's a fact.
The road to fruition wasn't easy, and she knew she couldn't assume.
It was either "do-or-die," or her dreams would be sacked.
It was going to be one long and hard exercise
For this gal from the hills of Tennessee,
But you could tell by the sparkle in her eyes
That there was something special for all to see.


Oh, the girl had dreams that'd fill up this very room,
A real spark plug, and that's a fact.
So many books, so much time they'd consume,
Yet, there was never any enthusiasm in which she lacked.
She labored hard, braving the elements,
Despite some of Mother Nature's calls,
But she knew what she was up against,
And she was determined to succeed where others had falls.

Oh, the girl had dreams, and boy did she ever fulfill!
In time, she earned her stripes in documents, written deeds.
This was God's test of this Wonder Woman's iron will,
And she won. Now, she'll plant some seeds.
Now, she has the ammunition of knowledge to wield.
Now, she can feed the minds of the hungry youthful aplenty.
Now, she has one of God's greatest powers he could bestow and field.
Now, she may go forth and achieve her destiny.

I may be infringing upon copyrighted material,
But you see, Mr. Marsten, she's the real Wonder Woman to me.
I felt compelled to say it lyrical
Just so you would plainly see.
She was a wee lass once dreaming of the world,
And now we see her grown up, and how things have circled.
In the future, adults will enter God's kingdom
With the breadth of knowledge from her disclosed wisdom.

CARPE DIEM

"The soul does not love, it is love itself.
It does not exist, it is existence itself.
It does not know, it is knowledge itself."

-How To Know God, pg. 130 (Song, "Brainwashed," from Brainwashed by George Harrison, post mortem, 2002.)

If It Be You

I saw a face so pretty once
And she etched a place in my heart.
Then she passed me by
And left me with just a memory.
I oft wondered if I'd ever see her again.
Will my wish come true?

I think I did see her again a couple of nights ago,
And she looked as pretty as ever.
Yet, there's always that sense of doubt
That lingers behind every thought.
If it be you, I'd like to know.
If it be you, would we have a future together?

Oh, how love does grow out of the strangest roots.
I know that more than ever.
Some call this last moment serendipity,
For I never thought I'd see her again.
She's lovely, to that nobody can deny.
If it be you, so it is sublime.

Allison

I've had restless nights these past few
All because of thoughts I've had of you.
I think of our long lost romance,
Or really, a romance that never was.
It was oh so long ago, those days gone by,
And you were older, while I was so young.
Was I old enough to comprehend love?
I had serious doubts. Others said I was dumb.
There was no doubt about one thing, though.
You were the fairest of 'em all.

It's been eight years, and I'm older now.
I've gone through many changes
And have new perspectives to boot.
I've had many a friend fall for a lover,
Get married, run off to a land far, far away.
Yet, here I am, now tried and true,
Ready for love to give me its cue,
Then you came around,
And it was like days of yesteryear.
Have I regressed? What is there to fear?

And I look up to the skies above and say,
"Excuse me, Lord, I've got something on my mind.
If it's love, if it's serendipity or whatever the kind,
She's so much older and wiser, after all,
And I, the sophomoric one, am only I.
I just don't see how the stars can align
In this way, not and the whole galaxy be sublime.
Anyway, I guess it'll have to be
What it is, what I always hoped it would be.
I love her, and all I ask is this, my Lord,
Please bring my Allison home to me this night."

(Just A Poor Ol' Boy) Livin' In Tennessee

I'm just a poor ol' boy livin' in Tennessee,
Workin' hard, bein' the best I can be.
I could be rich, but where would that take me?
Would I still be that same ol' boy from Tennessee?

I've done some travelin', hitchikin' my way,
Wind blowin' in my face, I was like a tree a-sway.
Goin' north on 75 was peculiar in that day,
For I had never seen the wonders which in the mountains lay.
Suddenly, I's in Kentucky, the Bluegrass State,
Where many great horses have charged out the front gate.
It all was so good, and it was all so great,
But it don't compare to the Tennessee state.

Then we got to Ohio, former Union state in the War,
Where people are called buckeyes, and I took a tour
Of Cincinnati, Columbus, Toledo, Cleveland, the "big four,"
And I found out that the land was as cold as my cabin floor.
Ohio is nice, but I wanted to see more,
So I entered Michigan, automobile factories galore.
Detroit was nice, but full of killers, thieves and whores,
And I decided I liked it better doing my Tennessee chores.

Later on, I hopped on a plane for some more travelin',
Just a jetsetter, hell-bent on a-skiddadlin'.
I went to New York, saw Lady Liberty look and grin,
And I knew right then that this was a wild place full of sin.
Boston was a riot, just like revolution times,
But livin' there, I hear, costs some nickels and some dimes.
There's a lotta history, but is that all that is sublime?
I'd rather be home in Tennessee just any ol' time.

I've been to California, to Texas, Hawaii-ki-ki.
In fact, I've been all over this land from sea to shining sea.
Louisiana was a party, but a vision of hell's door key.
I'm so glad Tennessee is home sweet home to me.

I've been to other places, and they all were so nice.
They have lil' things which cause them to entice,
But in the end, there's only one place that does suffice,
And that's livin' here in Tennessee, makin' my daily sacrifice.

Selling Johnny Cash

Hello. I'm Johnny Cash.
Let me play you a song to which you can relate.
It's somethin' different than that everyday stuff.
Let me sing it into your soul,
And let me warm up your heart.
There's passion, real passion, involved,
And it's of humanity facing the truth.
You gotta let me in, please, I say.
You just gotta let me in, man,
For all I wanna do is sell Johnny Cash.

Listen to the words, and you'll know I'm real,
I really try, try, try to please,
And if I don't, well, there's no record deal,
For I will then just cry, cry, cry,
And wail into the wee hours,
But I have faith, and I think I can sell.
Listen to me, the voice of God,
The voice of His aiming for your heart.
You gotta let me in, gotta let me in, pray tell,
For all I wanna do is sell my Johnny Cash.

Life's been hard. I know how it is.
I can empathize with your hardships, experiences and sins.
I can feel your pain, because I've been down that road,
Down Southbound on what used to be Highway 666.
I went on along with a sinner's tour,
Only to bounce back, to sing of the blues.
It ain't just rock 'n roll or country, you know.
It's about humanity, the passion that's in the soul.
And as I said before, you gotta let me in,
You just gotta let me into your heart, my man,
For all I wanna do is sell Johnny Cash.

If I Were This (I'd Do That)

Let me tell you a story of what I'd be,
What I'd be since they be what I am not.
I try so hard to be all I can be,
But it seems it's all for wrought.
People, they never are pleased with me,
And frankly, that's a shame.
So here's a list of possibilities
For this simple boy here from Tennessee.

If I were a mayor, I'd build a new and beautiful bridge
All because, well, I'd be the mayor, and I could.
But then again, I'm not the mayor,
And if I were, it'd all be for wrought.
I'd have the moral decency of a pig since I'd have to tax,
But aren't all government officials pigs? I think so.

If I were a movie star, I'd live the fairy tale life,
Drink the finest wines, immerse myself in with the hottest women.
I'd make movies to entertain the whole wide world and be famous.
But then again, I'm not a movie star,
And if I were, it'd all be for wrought.
I'd have all the sensitivity of a wall, come to think of it,
Since all leftist political views are chic,
And I wouldn't care about the little people who pay my salary.

If I were a porn star, well, I think you know what I'd do.
I don't have to repeat this here to make me sound anymore cool.
But then again, I'm not a porn star,
And if I were, it'd all be for wrought.
People would say that I'm a legal and highly-paid whore,
And that I'm the scum of the universe.

If I were a priest, I could preach The Gospel
As told from The Bible, holiest of all books.
But then again, I'm not a priest,
And if I were, it'd all be for wrought.
People would claim I rape and molest the young ones,
Whether it be true or no, they wouldn't care,
And I'm sure to them I'd know nothing of religious dogma.

If I were President of the U.S. of A., I'd be leader of the world,
And would looked upon for support by all in times of need.
But then again, I'm not the President,
And if I were, it'd all be for wrought.
People would charge me with insensitivity to the people's needs,
Even though I could mobilize a whole rescue or economic plan,
And still it would never be good enough for they.

If I were a king of my country, I could rule with an iron fist,
And I could convey the message of power with fear or piety.
But then again, I'm not a king,
And if I were, it'd all be for wrought,
For eventually, someone would throw a revolution.
If that happened, what would I do, for the army would get involved?
I guess I'd abdicate before being sent to the gallows.

If I were God, Ruler of the Heavens and the Earth, I could be all that's good,
And I could rule the universe, codify what's wrong from right.
But then again, I'm not God,
And if I were, it'd all be for wrought,
Because some people simply couldn't stand the thought of Me.
I could mean all the goodness to the world, and still it wouldn't matter.
Perhaps to some, it would be better if I never existed at all. Oh God!

There you have it, all the things I could ever want to be,
But, you know, it doesn't mean you're totally free.
From the town mayor to The Lord Thy God, you're open to scrutiny,
And you're never everybody's cup of tea.
You could mean well, do what you want in your position of power,
But in the end, you're better off being just as you are.