Magicult- G-Clair

Oh how I would love to see
from where you stand, that part of me
which clung to all you said and all you do
the part which made me buy a chance
to hear the truth, I'll need to dance
around the words you speak which can't come true.

Words not spoken, never mind
this heart was broken but I find
that sometimes people fall when hope is due
needing God? well here's a man
with promises, just take his hand
he'll show you things no one can see but you.

Magicult, you've got a plan
to mesmerize the simple man
convinced that you have something we should see
Tell us all what we must do
to glimpse the place, first pay our due
and never mind religion, pay the fee!

Get their minds to turn against
their Only Hope, if on the fence
be sure to make it hard, they want to earn it
The One who paid, right here on Earth
was Jesus Christ, his virgin birth
the Gift of God, the Cross, you want to burn it

Back in time, and filled with strife
for want of something more in life
something more to fill me, not religion
I listened to a man who said
he knew a better way and led
me into some dark hole, much like a pigeon.

And then one day, when forced to eat
discarded crumbs upon the street
I saw my own reflection in a pool
a shell of what I'd been before
not filled, but empty to the core
and lowering my eyes, I said, "you fool"

To coin a phrase, deceived is he
who makes his life a mystery
apart from what is seen, he has a way
and it seems right and it seems good
but deeper in the neighborhood
of witchcraft which will only lead astray.

Believing on a gift of Love,
which turns a dead bird to a dove
'cause hearing of The Truth, transcends the soul
nourishing the man within,
it purges out the lies of men
His burden, light and easy, made me whole.

strange and beautiful are the stars...

Thank you, BT!

Uncle John's Story - G Clair

My sister's brother in law, John (Uncle John to you), is a gifted conversationalist and story teller. We also know he loves to read and has amazing retention of information. Uncle John is also an entertainer, the natural Master of ceremonies, and a musician, as well as the Lucky Charms Leprechaun come to life on St. Paddy's Day. At a recent ceremony commemorating his brother, Master Chief Charles Farrell's retirement from the Coast Guard, we all had the pleasure of hearing Uncle John recite a passage from, uh, I can't recall... but whatever he was reading, Uncle John held the crowd captive. He might has well have been reciting Shakespeare. Who knew? I thought about Uncle John, his talents and how a couple of years back, he had recounted a few tales of his youth; growing up on the Jersey Shore in the late '60s, early '70s.

UNCLE JOHN'S STORY

He's Uncle John to you, but John to the rest of us
Got a way of telling stories without the fanfare or the fuss
He can jump into any conversation, has a lot of stuff to say
and every bit is interesting 'cause that always been John's way.

There was one about his summer job before 1970,
paid to push a Swan-shaped boat off a dock in Asbury
With a grapple hook on a ten foot pole, or something of that sort
well he'd push 'em out and pull 'em in wasn't doing it for sport~
The same guy who owned the swan boats, tunneled love across the way
twice a week John worked the darkness, but preferred the light of day.

Played rhythm at the Upstage in band called 'Cory' later
workin' Perkins in West Belmar, took the name from the percolator
Around that time he grew his hair out, it was like an Afro-sheen
mistaken for Tinker, a surfboard chinker and drummer with Springsteen.

Cruisin' down around Brookdale in his '39 LaSalle
Met 'Stinky' Tink at Thompson Park, where he was singing with his pal
Hey John, you look like Tinker,

but now you favor Gere
a live ringer for Mike Richards,
and don't forget DeNir-

Oh, if you can't remember anything from 40 years ago
just ask your Uncle John who knows the time in Tokyo.

the joy of socks - G Clair

Not to be the only one who feels
that it's important
to keep your shirt on
to keep your patience
of this I'm certain
with understanding
in quiet waters
are sunken
treasures
found.

Catching wind of something that you said
I'm quite relieved that
you are the type who
can see the end from
a rough beginning
and in forgiving
you make it clear
that there's no
fear in
love.

Letting go of all that is behind
we can be freed from
old silly notions
wasted emotions
vain devotions
useless worries
about a future
and of all
temporal
things.

Reaching out for something that is good
and latching onto
discarded socks you
were thinking 'clearly
they don't deserve you'
but still you serve so
it will continue
and you will
never be
alone.

BT's Perfect Storm- "The Woman's Affliction"

(The ponderings of guest writer BT. I choose the illustrations around here.)


While driving to Pathmark to pick up some provisions I was hit with some thoughts that though not poem worthy(for now atleast), still notable.

As I drove down Durham Rd. I glanced over my left shoulder. And behold, there he was. The great betrayer. Mr. F. Moon in all his radiant glory. The one who is to inspire romance. Who songs have been written about. That, for the exception or werewolves, is something to anticipate. Little would I know he would play a part in determing the outcome of my relationship with my love.

Then I pondered the effects of PMS, perimenopause, and the very existence of hormones altogether. I already knew that I was woefully inept in dealing with the outward signs of the female affliction. So inept. Then, as if I wasn't already at a handicap, the two conditions conspired against me. I never saw it coming. Never had a chance.

I wish that I was smarter, wiser, calmer, stronger, kinder, patient, loving, etc. Sounds like the makings of a fruit(of the Spirit) salad.

Another thought was about my own life. The sense of loss. That it seems to be a series of short term gains in the midst of long term heartaches and losses. A feeling that nothing has changed since my youth. And if that is the case, wishing I could give up the ghost and go home. But alas, that is not my choice. So how long this time? When will I feel normal again? Not even looking for the next short term gain. Just normalacy. No more hope deferred. Peace.

Heart Gallery

Caught a glimmer of joy in your eyes, 'twas so cold
as I sat on that bus, you were smiling,
though the memory's quite old, and the shimmer has dulled
it's a full color, framed, out of filing.

Sepia pictures more often I hold
old negatives covered in grime
it's a shame, though fortold, that we're all growing old
with limited space and less time.

The clock on wall tells me just where I stand
and it's chime brings the heartache of doom
the seconds tick by, and I can't help but cry
in the heart of my hearts old dark room.

Despite all the charm my countenance exudes,
these tattered old blinds can't conceal
soft light filters truth from my cheap platitudes
and the good from the dark stuff I feel.

Thought about leaving this filth covered tomb
take the best of my memories with me
better to clean up than run from this room
keep the babe for the bath water's free.

Watching my step, I tread deep within
without the desire to save face
gaze up at a skin, done by guilt of that sin
in the light of God's Love and sweet Grace.

To break from this nasty cold miserable cave
let go of the sadness and gloom
forgiveness unlocks the door of the grave
and there's nothing left here to exhume.

Welcome, my friend, yes it's been quite a while
since we've bathed in the sun and run free
got a mind for preserving your beautiful smile
in my state of the heart gallery!

Mr. F Moon - G Clair ( for BT)

Just follow the bouncing ball.(1- 2- 3- 4- 1- 2)
Hey Mr. Moon (badunt dunt dunt)
shine a light on all of our blues (badunt dunt dunt)
we passed around the bottle of gueze (badunt dunt dunt)
while lookin' down at skuffied up shoes (badunt dunt dunt dunt dadee)

hey Mr. Moon-(badunt dunt dunt)
your gettin' on my hormonal rythym, my chemi hemi-spheri-cal schizm
reacting to your lunar deluge

so strike up the band (badunt dunt)
won't ya shine a light on all of us crazies
we love you 'cause your foolish and lazy
and you do it for attention and news(badunt dun dun, dumpedy dun)

::well your the orchestrated leader
of the criminally insane
and the bona fide heater
of the hearts on lovers lane
and what's it to ya anyway
just what all do ya gain
when ya push the tides around
and do a number on my brain::

Mr. Moon! (badunt dunt dunt)
I hope you come around real soon ( dadunt dunt dunt)
I'll try to write a song for the sun ( badunt dunt dunt)
who keeps a dark old rock in his fun ( badunt dunt dunt duntety)

Mr. Fool Moon ( Budunt dunt) un-
aware that you're a pain in my rump (badunt dunt)
keep the rhythym 'til we're over hump~(badunt dunt)
'cuz you know I like the light of your lump ( badunt dunt dunt bumpety oh)

Mr. Moon i love you,
Mr. Moon i love you,
Mr. Moon
i love you,
Mr. Moon.
*************
FYI:
Gueze (gooze): Beer term for a blend of young and old lambics.
http://www.beerliquors.com/buy/beer/Boon_Gueze_Lambic_Beer.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lambic

which by the way, ryhymes with Iambic pentameter:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iambic_pentameter

with all I am

Pondering Religion and Politics/ Religious War on America- G Clair

Pride, like a river before a great fall
flows swiftly like thunder to crash down a wall

the heart is rebellious and easily sways
when drawn from the path, corrupt in it's ways

for evil was present before there was light
to kill and destroy is it's only delight

When Light overcomes it, the darkness can't stay
but still, in some hearts it's dark anyway

This is the world and this is the steeple
and these plans were made without asking the people

And then from our pews, seems like something had died
or maybe ignited, don’t know, you decide

A peace-loving nation come hell or high water
'til freedoms were challenged, the fire grew hotter

extremists offending extremely can bring
an unprepared nation to most anything

A paranoid nation with anger and fear
not knowing our enemy lurking so near

With nine-one-one burned in our souls we were shocky
our leader like most, at the start seemed quite cocky

War books will speak then of fortunes and fools
of defense and offense, but where are the rules?

Believing our God is the True One who saves
but what does He say about kings in their graves?

Does the God that we're claiming to trust on our money
have a plan for the end can it ever be funny?

The Word says to pray for God's got a plan
will He fix all the messes or mess up the man?

Look to the bible within it are books
history lessons with good guys and crooks

Where Wisdom and Truth are present with power
the Word speaks today and right up to this hour

The King of the world was crazy with pride
Nebuchadnezzar was fit to be tied

Read it in Daniel, the last days are near
but don't be too quick to be crippled with fear

Daniel knew well of his God, the big G
the One and the Only forever is He.

Finding God's favor while serving this king
Faithful obedience, blessing will bring

And how does that lesson apply to today
The Same God forever, what does He say?

He's not about killing the lost infidel
but bringing salvation from certainly Hell

Through one act of God and nothing from man
came down from heaven and finished His plan

Reopened the 'gates', settled the score
Forever "I AM" not mad anymore

Forgiving ALL sin with the simplest prayer
from the heart that is aching for wholeness in there

Weakness! A Crutch! Pathetic are you!
ironic from those who can't offer a clue

Speak for yourself! I've 'oft heard it said
we're Godless but gracious, without any dread

No pressure from heaven, you're free to decide
if you think long enough, you might save your own hide

So when will this end? Can it ever be over
ask peace-loving poets who daydream in clover

ethereal pondering not here my goal
but my noggins a noddin', it's taken a toll

But where should America stand in this war?
The best-est defense is to even the score?

Whatever our forefathers meant for this nation
whatever intentions with God's affirmation

without a strong faith and fear of the Lord
we'll bind up our wounds, but fall on the Sword

I Do ( Nobody's Beer Drinking Song)- G Clair

Tending to things that don't matter that much
wasting my time watching TV and such
spending my money on folly and shame
don't point at me 'cause your doin' the same

Waiting on something that's bigger than this
cleared away cobwebs and cut through the mist
made up my mind that I'm staying alone
I keep to myself for I'm all that I own

and I need someone to tell me
it's gonna be alright
and I want someone to lead me
out through the dark of this night
i do...yeah I do

paying the bills that are up to your chin
Wait for the day when your ship will come in
keep even-keeled in the worst of the gales
but climbing the stairs takes the wind from your sails

So you work until five then it's time for a beer
month after month turns to year after year
Thinking that maybe there's some other way
taking a risk could mean falling away

(chorus)
and you need someone to tell you
it's gonna be alright
and you want someone to lead you
out through the dark of this night
you do...yeah you do

Well nothing is really new under the sun
we've taken a look but not turned to the One
why all the bitterness I can not say
pride in our lives chose the ignorant way

But we all need someone to tell us
it's gonna be alright
and we all
need someone to lead us out through the dark
and the dread of this horrible night
(dong, ding, dong)
the dark of this terrible night
We do.

Strange how this song sort of wrote itself a couple of years back, as I was still affected after watching an old black and white Orson Wells movie " The Stranger" in which he plays a Nazi general, Franz Klammer (I think it was). Klammer had escaped the war crime trials and fled to America with a new identity. He had taken a job as a professor in some Ivy League College in New England. The detective who is investigating the fugitive is played by Edward G. Robinson. Franz is eventually found out but not before marrying the daughter (Loretta Young), of some VIP at the college. Franz has an obsession with clocks and the movie revolves around this fixing the clock tower of an old church on campus. You watch as his life begins to unravel, the truth becoming evident, as he sinks to murder in a frantic attempt to keep his secret. He winds up confessing to his wife, but with a growing suspicion is plotting her murder as well. Not unexpectedly, the movie comes to a climax as Franz is confronted and the truth is revealed in clock tower, in the dark of night, and just as the clock is repaired. There is a scuffle between Franz and the police in the tower, and as the news breaks to the towns people, they gather at the foot of the chuch, while Franz, in an attempt to escape is shot and impaled on the sword of a life-sized bronzed figure, which encircles the clock at the top of the hour.

Pretty graphic for that time. Very dark and eerie. My lyrics aren't really about the movie at all, but maybe more about being a victim of your own stupid choices, feeling imprisoned and needing some hope and guidance, comfort, love, trust...a light at the end of the tunnel. I believe that Jesus is the light in the darkness, the Way, the Truth, but I think we need to have a sensitivity to those who are still lost in the search for peace and acceptance. Anyway. I've got a lot of words here. I do. Must be the full moon. G'night.

A Fish's Tale- G Clair

Something struck me out of the blue
and cut my dorsal fin
worst pain, I'd say I ever knew
guess it's due for mess I'm in

Thankfully, I am just fine
next time I'll be more careful
and watch out for the fisherman's line
and try to be more prayerful

This one's not that into fish
though fish he did one night
caught me hanging out beside
the boat, to my delight.

"Would you just consider
spending time with me today?
I've got a lot here on my mind but
got some time to play."

So play we did and had a ball
the fisherman and I,
must say though, along the way
the man, he caught my eye.

He shared a couple of tales
that I could scarce believe
a women who had landed that old
heart upon on his sleeve.

Before the sun had set
I felt a certain sting of pain
"If you were not a fish", he said,
I'd take you out again".

"I do appreciate the thought"
and entertained the notion,
"so put me in some salt water here
or jump in to my ocean."

"I get a funny feeling",
said the fisherman to me,
"that if I were- to take you out,
you'd really miss the sea."

been hooked perhaps a dozen times
and thrown back in the water
but suddenly I understood,
delivered from sure slaughter.

"I've got your number, fisherman
and thank you for your time
upon my scales I've weighed your heart
and came up with a rhyme.

"The sunset's sweet and lures you, man
into that fishy stupor
but you're just a fast food junkie
and will never taste my grouper."

And with that I swam away.

me too

the neighborhood play- G Clair

when you're out in the field
want to go for the double
just throw to first base
and without any trouble
the guy who is running
to second is out
though you side stepped that base
and the umpire did shout
the rules are the rules
but not in this case
with the neighborhood play
you can throw to first base.

YEEERRRRROUT!

Uncle Rumpkin- G Clair

(To the tune of " If I Only Had A Brain")

Well they call me Uncle Rumpkin
my body's just a pumpkin
my nose
the pointed core~
with a smile
I deliver
warm you up
when you shiver
if you leave me on the floor

well my face is close to human
my teeth can almost chew men
but I'm not
that kind of dude~
in the end
when our eyes meet
you will see
who's the pie's meat
when they're servin' up the food

and I..
would rather die..
a broken shell smashed in the street..
to be a trick, over a treat
for all your kin..
who'd rather eat..

well I'm not a nasty fellow
in fact I'm rather mellow
my face was carved for sport
on the porch, Jack-0-lanterns!
grab a torch, 'fore the man turns
and we're churned into a tort!

ipod to God

if only one Star shines...

Laura's Virtual Honesty Tour

I've been considering a move to Va. and have been looking around for a house. My sister lives in a nice area of Chesapeake. I would prefer a private house rather than a townhouse or condo, but of course there's only so much house one can buy on a nurse's meager income. I have been preapproved for a mortgage which back in the day could have put me into the home of my choosing. Not today. Not in Virginia Beach. Maybe in Florida. So I turned my attention to the boonies of Chesapeake and the burbs of Norfolk. I talked to a Realtor friend of Laura's, and she arranged for automatic e-mailings of listings specific to my 'wants'.

A couple of days ago, I received several listings. One caught my eye. An adorable and affordable little house in South Chesapeake, Va. I could see it had a nice yard with a garden area and a play area for kids, not that I have any but you never know. I had checked out the area from the Google's Birds-eye perspective, and was a bit leary of being so close to the tracks and those large oil storage tanks. Wierd. Panning out, you can actually fly around the neighborhood, zoom in on people's backyards. The neighborhood seemed clean enough, albeit a few cars in yards, some junk here and there. Kind of seedy and in some spots, not sure WHAT I was looking at. So on her way home from work today, my sister Laura, who calls just about every day at this time, typed the address into her GPS and headed over for a look-see.

I had her on the cellphone, and also had the area on Google Birds-eye, so I could actually peer into people's backyards, from about 70 yards away. I asked her to give me an idea of the area; what she was seeing and of course I didn't have to ask her to be honest or descriptive.

G: So are you almost there?

L: (still on the highway) There's a black man with a blue face.

G: WHAT? WHERE?

L: Walking down the road.

G: He has a BLUE face?

L: yeah.

G: Like one of those very dark skinned people. It's not really blue. Just very dark.

L: No. It's blue... You know how white people go brown? Well this black dude went blue. Must be for the series. PAINTED IT."

G: OH...he PAINTED it blue.( There was that one guy who took some med or something and actually turned his skin blue)

L: Yeah.

She turns into the neighborhood.

L: OK, there's a lady with no teeth.

G: You can see that close?

L: Yeah.

G: What else?

L: Four white children with floods on, and the one is running around with wax teeth. Wax. Halloween teeth. These people are really into decorating for Halloween. oh this is not really...OK, here's the house. Oh, It's really cute. It's got a nice walkway.

G: Tell me about it.

L: It's a nice house, but the area is sort of depressed. You know, poverty. OK, there's a drainage gully in the front yard. The house next door is cuter. Cleaner looking yard. Nice houses in a bad area.

G: Well, what else do you see?

L: OK, well there's a billboard that reads "Be Sexy".

G: WHAT?

L: It's for a Halloween Store. But it's as big as those Johnny Walker Red one's in NYC. Uh, I don't think you'd like this place at all. There's these men burning things over there.

G: Oh. I see.

L: I know my neighborhood's not the best. I'm not delusional AT ALL, but...Gina, this place is like, it's like (reacting to a statue) the MASONS.

G: WHAT?

L: There's this big statue of a MASON with a big FEZ on his head holding a handicapped child. I guess that's the cause."

G: Ah...the MASONS. Right.

L: There's a black man burning something.

G: Well I like the smell of wood burning in Autumn.

L: I don't know if it's wood or garbage.

G: Oh...so what's your impression?

L: I'd be afraid. I'd be very afraid. For real. You'd definitely have to get a rifle. And sleep with it."

G: So, not good.

L: THe WHOLE area smells like farts. SMELLS LIKE FARTS. Imagine inviting your family over and the place smells like farts? It's located on the cusp of an industrial wasteland, spewing out fart odor 24/7. NASTY. You don't wanna live there GinaM, and to be honest, I'd never want to come visit if you lived there. It's just a very depressed area. Poverty. It's really sad. You don't need to succumb to that. You sure don't, and I am sure your realtor has not seen this one or she would direct you away from it.

G: I guess not. OK. Thanks, Laur. I appreciate your honest opinion. Onto the next!

i'll go wash the dishes...

Thank You for lub dub

How do you explain,
How do you describe,
A love that goes from east to west,
And runs and deep as it is wide?

You know all our hopes
Lord, you know all our fears
And words cannot express the love we feel
But we long for You to hear

Chorus:
So listen to our hearts (oh, Lord, please listen)
Hear our spirits sing (and hear us sing)
A song of praise that flows (a simple song of praise)
From those You have redeemed (from those You have redeemed)
We will use the words we know
To tell You what an awesome God You are
But words are not enough
To tell You of our love
So listen to our hearts


If words could fall like rain
From these lips of mine
And if I had a thousand years
I would still run out of time

So if You listen to my heart
Every beat would say,
“Thank You for the Life, thank You for the Truth, thank You for the Way.”

[Chorus]

Is Jesus the Messiah? ( Part 2)

Part 1

i was

tear

what do I know of holy- addison road

wha

dream on

Nothing's ever what it seems,
I wait around, and in my dreams,
I'm something more, than what I am
not Spam 'n eggs, green eggs or ham

but what I've dreamed in slumber's car
is not beyond the farthest star
but just above the highest cloud
where frozen skies can't scream out loud

or laugh or cry or live or die
or touch the apple of His eye
or grasp a thought, and catch a smile
or take a nap and rest a while

or lie outside in fresh cut grass
the summer sun, the day to pass
and when I'm rested, let it go
autumn comes and then the snow

life is short, and I am smitten
but hardly had the fruit been bitten
anger cuts the evening short
hopes and dreams meet TV sport

angry tones, a hot debate
and deep-set hurt will always wait
words are spoken, much regret
at least you're free now from the net

darkness comes but evening's fires
thaw the chill, and warm desires
hope for love, a life so sweet
calms the rage and stirs the heat

not so fast, the damage done
the fear rekindled in His son
faith moves mountains, this one still
cannot be moved beyond his will

all I wanted, something good
something blessed, a God who could
give me more than fleeting hope
far beyond my simple scope

and looking at that brightest star
reminded what a fool I ARE
I wish I may and wish I might
not have the thing I had tonight

to leave it to the greatest One
is often hard, and not much fun
but not as bad, and worse to take
is love's enormous bellyache

reminded there's a better plan
a place within His loving hand
and taken there one autumn day
the dream's allure just fell away

what I had thought 'true love' would be
far less than what He has for me
with oneness as it's greatest goal,
forgives the hurts and heals the soul

" I only wanted a salutary goodbye" BT

Adj. 1. salutary - tending to promote physical well-being; beneficial to health; "beneficial effects of a balanced diet"; "a good night's sleep"; "the salutary influence of pure air"
good
healthful - conducive to good health of body or mind; "a healthful climate"; "a healthful environment"; "healthful nutrition"; "healthful sleep"; "Dickens's relatively healthful exuberance"

Her Choice to Heal- By Synda Masse and Joan Phillips

Review by Fr. Frank Pavone

In one of the latest books on post-abortion healing, Sydna Masse and Joan Phillips team up to courageously share their painful experiences of abortion, as well as their joyful discovery of the healing which Jesus Christ brings.

Her Choice to Heal is written in a clear, personal style, speaking directly to the woman who has aborted her child. Though it contains very valuable information about the dynamics of post-abortion syndrome, it is more of a guided journey through the initial stages of healing than a treatise about post-abortion issues. In reading it, you feel as though you are being led by a wise and compassionate friend, all the while holding your hand and assuring you that no matter how bad your abortion experience may be, someone has been there before, and there is hope.

Sydna and Joan intersperse the chapters of their book with the example of their own journeys through denial, anger, grief, forgiveness, letting go, and the joy of discovering the Savior. They speak with psychological realism as well as the wisdom of God's Word, provided in numerous Scriptural citations.

The book provides the opportunity for the reader to interact with the emotions and memories of a past abortion, even providing blank pages for writing down thoughts and reactions to the points raised in each chapter.

This book provides concrete practical suggestions as well as references to additional resources on post-abortion issues. It concludes with a moving reflection by a man who pressured someone into having an abortion.

Her Choice to Heal is a treasure for anyone who has had an abortion, or for those who may have facilitated an abortion. It is likewise extremely valuable for family members and friends of post-abortion individuals, as well as for clergy and counselors seeking to improve their ability to help people find post-abortion healing.

To understand the pain of those who have had abortions is one of the most urgent tasks today for those who seek to love their neighbors. Her Choice to Heal helps all of us take another step toward fulfilling that most serious obligation.

Order from Ramah International
PO Box 173
Ramah, CO 80832-0173

Phone and Fax (719) 573-7707

KEEP TO THE RIGHT

He keeps to the right, he's not to be tempted
the rules are the rules and they won't be preempted
by dingbats and dumbasses, yuppies and jerks
idiot bimbos, who think they have perks.
Pushing his buttons as he climbs up the case
he's still on the right but you're right in his face

Texting and talking up the old escalator
keeping tabs on each other, when you can say 'see you later'
And then at the top of the stair, PLEASE keep walking
hang out somewhere ELSE~ and ENOUGH with the talking!
Far worse on train, a much longer ride
and now on the bus, and he's fit to be tied!

You take up TWO spaces when you need only one
and that drippy umbrella has robbed all his sun
And WHAT are you eating? It smells just like crap
his blood pressure's pushing the steam through his cap
Normally quiet, this mild-mannered gent is really no trouble, until he get's bent
the key to avoiding a terrible plight, mind all your manners, and KEEP TO THE RIGHT!

Turn Your Eyes Away

I buried my convictions along the weary road
well they were getting heavy for the other stuff I towed
and I had to choose the latter for the former was quite old
it all seemed so trite and corny, those stories had been told
And then I found the answer, old Della here will do
no one else would ever know nor give a rat's tattoo
and I could be my own boss and do it all at home
no longer on the beaten path old Dell and I could roam

To Google was my pleasure I'd do it day and night
while looking out for trouble I could Google any site
I steered away from porno and kept my nose from crime
but soon my roaming eyes would lead to downloads of sublime
it was a wild adventure while sitting in my home
my back grew fat with cellulite my legs were more like foam
I lost some of my vision my feet are cold and numb
goodbye to feeling in my hands hello to stiffened thumb

Chorus
Della, turn your eyes away we shouldn't view this scene
I'm searching for an answer in a place that's just obscene
and I know there's no corruption in your history to view
but it's burned within my memory can't delete it when I'm through
Turn your eyes away

and then one day it happened, I landed on an image
He stood there in his birthday suit upon line of scrimmage
the scene was somewhat tainted, "I shall not look", I sainted,
but caught myself in quite a stare, my mother would have fainted
From a place down deep within me, I heard the preacher cry
"Dear woman what have you begot? A sight for sorry eye"
I swear I didn't do it, it came up on my screen
I didn't search for 'nudity', I searched for sompin' clean!

I turned around then in my seat, and all that I can say
is what I've needed all along, a real Scot McKsy
I'd filled my life with mystery and lost all essence of
the beauty of my real life and with that, real love
I turned back to the stranger and wished him for my own
but frankly I'd be more impressed with much less of a bone
I clicked him off and turned my thoughts back towards that weary way
and asked the God who saw my sin to clear my mind that day

Della, turn your eyes this away
you need to view this scene
I'm searching for an answer
from the One who is Serene
His seed is incorruptible
and planted in my soul
will redirect my weary mind
Lord, cleanse and make me whole!

Turn your eyes this way!