He's a poet he's a picker he's a prophet he's a pusher He's a pilgrim and a preacher and a problem when he's stoned He's a walkin' contradiction partly truth and partly fiction Taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home
Livin' on the road, my friend Was gonna keep you free and clean And now you wear your skin like iron And your breath as hard as kerosene
Weren't you mama's only boy But her favorite one, it seems She began to cry when you said, "Goodbye" Sank into your dreams
Counted the Stars
Counted the stars on the 4th of July Wishing we were rockets bursting in the sky Talking about redemption and leaving things behind As the sun sinks west of the Mendocino county line
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Out of Control Bums
Aero News has an article up on the WA Legislature considering draconian taxes on personal and business aircraft in the state. Makes one wonder what makes shit like this live with themselves.
Go to Aeronews.net and check it out. It is on the articles dated for today the 14th.
Lousy, no good, rat bastards are out of control. The best remedy would be along the lines of Cromwell's when he went through the process of getting rid of Charles 1. Look it up. It might amuse. As for me, I prefer the Vigilantes approach: 3-7-77.