I blew down the road of a million laughter'sunk into the blue hills of envious banjo hallelujahs,
melted out of the sound holes of delirious inner sanctum slut guitars,
barnstormed on the hoods of radical jaguar Plymouth's in heat,
cocooned with the dames on jackal avenue with screaming thighs,
bled a trillion nights under the tombstone EL stations of arsenic love,
baffled itinerant hobos lying in fever pools praying for quinine,
hunkered beside the bellowing horses of the apocalyptic OK corral,
siphoned blood whisky from the ramshackle tanks of lethal hookers,
underestimated the aggressive vixens of iodine town,
blasted headlong into the mayhem of furious chimpanzee brothels,
sacrificed my picking fingers for a woman named "Joan Razor Tears",
played a guitar made by Satan in the gruesome crypt of Oliver Hardy,
played a guitar made by God in the watch towers of Ebal
danced naked in the tornado's of Siberian leper colony's in Cleveland,
had feuds with murderous mandolin insomniacs in blazing jungle fires,
evacuated starving women from the Island of Kerosene Key,
held Kris Kristofferson in my arms when his fever spiked to 104
wrote so many songs my brain is shaped like a treble Clef,
played so many guitars my hands are shaped like meat viola's,
jammed so many hours my memory has turned into harmonica putty,
lay'd with endless barbarian women and daughters of marauding Huns,
fought with the vandals on the plains of Attila and Lash La Rue,
shot the Lone Ranger dead for stealing my jock strap,
was branded a traitor on the the Island of Borneo in 1624,
had relations with King Tuts grandmother in a pool hall in Brooklyn,
smoked dope with a manikin named Duncan Idaho,
had a recent epiphany about large fish and miniature Shetland ponies,
stormed the gates of the Guggenheim and stole a priceless enema bag,
hung by the neck and came back to life on the outskirts of OZ,
was inducted into the outlaw hall of fame in 2014.