Ol' Ben Lucas
Ol' Ben Lucas
Had a lot of mucus
Comin' right out of his nose.
He'd pick and pick
'Til it made you sick
But back again it grows.
When it's cotton-pickin' time in Texas
Boys, it's booger-pickin' time for Ben.
He'd raise that finger, mean and hostile,
Stick it in that waiting nostril
Here he comes with a green one once again.
Men's Room, LA
I saw a picture yesterday,
In a men's room near LA,
Lyin' on the floor beside the throne.
Had I not recognized the cross,
I might have failed to know the boss.
I thought, 'Lord, you look neglected, and alone.'
I picked it up, with love and care,
I wondered who had placed it there,
and then I saw there was no paper on the roll.
I said, 'Lord, what would you do,
If you were me, and I were you?
Take a chance, save your pants, or your soul?'
And then a voice said:
'Kinky, this is Jesus. I ain't square.
Hell, I've got these pictures everywhere,
from Austin, Texas, on out to the Frisco bay, baby.
So, son, if you're hung up on the pot
feel free to use my favorite shot.'
I saw a picture yesterday,
In a men's room near LA.
I saw a picture yesterday,
In a men's room near LA.
Ride 'Em Jewboy
Ride, ride 'em jewboy,
Ride 'em all around the old corrall.
Oh I'm, I'm with you, boy,
If I got to ride six million miles.
Now the smoke from camps arising,
see the helpless creatures on their way.
Well, old pal, it's still surprising
how long you can go 'fore you stay.
Do not let the morning blind you,
when on your sleeve you wore the yeller star
Old memories still live behind you
can't you see by your outfit, who you are.
How long will you be driven, relentless round the world
The blood in the rythm of the soul.
Wild cronies all, your dreams were broken,
Rounded up and made to move along.
The loneliness, which can't be spoken
just swings a rope and rides inside a song.
Dead limbs play with ringless fingers
The melody, which burns you deep inside.
Oh how the song becomes the singers,
May peace be ever with you as you ride.
In the window candles glowing
reminds you that today you are a child.
The road ahead, forever rolling,
and anything worth crying can be smiled.
So ride, ride 'em jewboy,
Ride 'em all around the old corrall.
I'm, I'm with you, boy,
If I got to ride six million miles.
Elvis, Jeesus ja Coca-Cola
1996, sidottu, 207 s., ISBN 952-9646-85-2, kl 84.2, 140 mk