SONGWRITING CONFIDENTIAL 60.
The crumbs of legebility are down in the depths of the night well after midnight sloshing around in the freezing darkness,.I can't come begging for pearls in the kings hall in my tousled cut offs and loud mouth in the blazing sun,..it's in the cover of shadows I find the genie's lamp,.stumbling like a fool on a morsel that fell innocuously from Gods plate to the floor in front of my silly shoes...And for this I have sworn to channel only art of substance and measure to sluice and white water through the creek bed of this 75 year old soul..I only want the rubies,. not the rhinestones,.I only want those songs that evoke revelation,.the hallaluyah of insurrection and redemption,.mystical cookies and magic.. Today it's Tuesday of my new resolution of.wow !! I am one blessed boy,.here I am still on the GO GO wheel, spinning like a tire hurled off the roof of a tennement building by a young thug,.Still hunting the elusive Gold Tooth in the cryptic smile of God,.still on avalanche turnpike barreling through the fog and sleet,.mounting up for another hurl at the Groove javalin and the discus of BOP...I can't get back all the years the locusts ate,. can't recapture the tiger energy I once possessed and pissed away,.but I can vow with certainty I will not stray from the path thats been given to me,.a path I once knew but rejected as a young fool,.one thats taken me eternities to find again,.this time i will not deviate ever again from that which I know to be real and true..Steady to the end old man !! the horses are charging down the mountain,.it's either jump out of the way of them, or leap on their backs and ride into the flames, whooping and hooting like some old wino careening dizzingly along side of a parade, waving his bottle of MD 20 in the air, harassing the marchers and tuba players.