FIX

I’ve tried so hard, as hard as I can,
To make what was wrong right,
But we’ve fallen between the crevices,
Of the very dark side of life

And I begged for you to follow me,
And walk hand in hand to the light,
But you balked as happiness beckoned,
And remained in the shadows of life

I can’t repair these broken souls,
Even with mortar and brick,
We’ve failed to even help ourselves,
And that’s something God won’t fix

You’ve said we don’t hold all the cards,
And the dealer uses a slight,
But we’ve gambled on empty promises,
And the dead man’s hand is our life

Our mutual disgust is appalling,
Screaming mightily day and night,
For something we’ve lost within ourselves,
Conveniently blaming this life

We take no responsibility for anything,
Though we hide the needle pricks,
I pray we learn to pray again,
But that’s something God can’t fix


Copyright; EGHarne

U2

They're another mindless rock band,
So socially aware,
No thoughts of their own,
And no one really cares

Rich beyond belief,
They're gods to their fans,
They excoriate America,
While hawking their brand

They hate the U.S.A.,
We're stupid, shallow, crass,
But these comic, Celtic zeros
Willingly take our cash

So take your fake refinement,
And all your self-righteous glee,
And we'll burn them in a heap,
Next to your joshua tree


Copyright; EGHARNE

AMY

If there was a way that I could find you,
After, oh, these many years,
The things that I would tell you,
Would bring us both to tears

If I could hold your hands in mine,
And express what's in my heart,
You'd be amazed by what's been hidden,
Illuminating what's been dark

These emotions still surprise me,
About a woman I briefly knew,
But those few hours we had together,
Made me confront the truth

That love's not measured in minutes,
Nor does it fade like burning coals,
It simply overtakes us,
And forever alters our souls


Copyright; EGHarne

JURISPRUDENCE

If I get caught stealing candy from a baby,
If I get caught beating an old man with his cane,
If I get caught stealing flowers from a graveyard,
I hope I get tried in the good ol' U.S.A.

And if all the evidence is stacked against me,
And if they can match my worthless DNA,
And if eyewitnesses say they saw me,
I hope I get tried in the good ol' U.S.A.

'Cause in the U.S.A., hey, facts they don't matter,
Lawyers will give any lie a whirl,
I don't have to worry about no conviction,
'Cause the U.S.A. has the dumbest juries in the world



Copyright; EGHarne

WISDOM

I thirsted for knowledge,
I longed to understand,
About the world around me,
Not leaving anything to chance

I packed all my belongings,
And headed for the hills,
To find the Monk of Knowledge,
And screw these self-help shills

I traveled days and nights,
Through rain and sleet and snow,
To the highest mountain,
As far as I could go

I reached the cavern entrance,
Then spied the prophet's lair,
He sat upon a toilet seat,
Stroking greasy, crusty hair

I knelt so low before him,
Exhausted from the trip,
I then worked up the courage,
And these words passed my lips:

"Oh great Font of Foresight,
I left my children and my wife,
So I could finally meet you,
And discover the meaning of my life!"

He looked at me so kindly,
And I'll not soon forget,
The wisdom he imparted,
On his garlic laded breath:

"Oswald shot the President,
Jimmy Hoffa's in concrete,
We didn't land on the moon,
And porn stars have dirty feet."


COPYRIGHT; EGHarne

PETE'S CONVERSATION W/HIS BEST FRIEND'S WIFE

You don't know how you make me feel,
Oh, how my senses reel,
And if we ever have the chance,
To embolden this romance,
That's the art of the deal

We'll keep this secret sealed...

MEMENTO MORI (Memo to Sinead O'Connor)

The magazines they savaged you,
They said you'd gotten old,
That somehow youth's eternal,
And none of this was foretold

No matter how hard we fight it,
And swim against the tide,
Nature's wishes drown us,
In the sands of time

So hold your head up proudly,
Fear not those facial lines,
The softening of the middle,
And a tush that's not so fine

They can hate us for these changes,
That are tantamount to crimes,
Vernal assholes miss the point:
They ain't far behind