TFTD:

When the moon so long has been gazing down
On the wayward ways of this wayward town
That her smile becomes a smirk,
I go to work!

TFTD:

When the only sound in the empty street
Is the heavy tread of the heavy feet
That belong to a lonesome cop,
I open shop.

TFTD:  

Did your dreams die young?
Were they too hard-won?
Did you reach too high and fall?

And there is no rest
For the ones God blessed
And He blessed you best of all.

TFTD:   Your cheek too cold,
            Too pale to shine,
            Like an old, and waning, moon.

TFTD:  The wrath has finally taken form.

Joseph's Spousal Prayer and Speculation

Hail, Mary!

With mercy mild,

You beheld your only Child

All with bloody scourges rent --

Bruised of course, derided, cursed, defiled.

For you O Most Immaculate Heart and Help of Christians,

Who became the Vessel of Salvation for all humankind,

Blessed amongst all women

But at once my consort in the eyes of simple men --

A question if I may!

Would you make for me a sandwich

Of two loaves and maybe of three fishes

Without mayo

And with no fine drink to make a Hapless Meal

(The Curse of Marketing not having joined just yet

Its lesser brethren that we know now here in Palestine in A.D. 41 --

The Plagues of Locusts, Frogs and squirming Lice)?

And may I ask a question much more bold?

How would the world be different

If you had let me cross the bedding like a normal man

When younger, nearly helpless

With that other hunger?

If you had -- forget about the ecstasy! --

We could have raised our palms to God the Father,

Thwarted His Whole Plan for vengeance sake,

And joined the greatest actors on the earthen stage

By strength of will and not by mere submission!

Perched atop a teeming mountain of the greatest sinners,

Only Adam with his Eve could rival us.

We'd stand upon the Devil's own red carpet

Hell-bent without bending,

And the world would know us not for meekness,

Not for not offending.

Meekness though it overcame us.

Now we sit bereft.

And yet the Father, Holy Ghost and your own Son

Will blame us

That we let the Sands of Caesar

Bury us in doubt and rank despair.

But you, who are without corruption,

You will leave me here

On angels' wings.

I'll ply my trade.

I'll hammer home the crooked pegs

Until my eyes as well betray me

And I lay myself down with no comrades,

With no Holy Family

Without you --

My once imagined Vessel of Salvation.

Bad Tunes

What makes a song a really bad song?   There are so many ways to get there:

• Maudlin
• Derivative
• Novelty song but not novel
• Just plain stupid
• Out of touch with the zeitgeist
• Written by John Williams

But it can be a fine line.    Elvis' "Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love" is both just plain stupid and wickedly egotistical.    But Bruce Springsteen manages to pull off an amazingly high-preening couplet in:   

I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra!

I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova!

The poetry overcomes the ego.   And of course the voice behind the song is not intended to be the voice of Bruce per se.

Here are some examples of terrible songs (biased, I'm afraid, towards the Top 40 of my long-ago youth):

• Red Roses for a Blue Lady
• Puff the Magic Dragon
• In the Year 3535 (if man is still alive)
• Ebony Eyes (by the otherwise impeccable Everly Brothers -- "On a weekend pass, I wouldn't have had time, to get home and marry that baby of mine ..." Boo hoo.)
• Moon River
• Danny Boy
• How Much Is That Doggy In the Window?
• If You Wanna Be Happy for the Rest of Your Life (never make a pretty woman your wife, so from my personal point of view, get an ugly girl to marry you)
• Crying (over you, by the often impeccable Roy Orbison)

Many, many others will come to me via the month's worth of music on my Ipod.