Gut Rumbles

August 10, 2003

sunday evening

Little tiny cars and trucks
all turned upside down.
What are those things doing here
with no kids hanging 'round?

I'm a grown man now-a-days
I don't play with toys
All the stuff that's scattered there
Belongs to those two boys.

One's my son and I don't know
What he does when he's away.
That's why the sun sets hard on me
Every other Sunday.

I watched him eating watermelon
Spitting out the seeds
Then I threw him in the swimming pool
Yeah, that's all that he needs

A dose of dad like water
That runs right off his back
Let's get home by 6:00
And slowly fade to black.

The Crackerbox is hollow now,
My boy has gone away.
That's why the sun sets hard on me
Every other Sunday.

Poetry isn't my speciality, but you ought to hear the melody that goes with this one. A-minor. Sounds very mournful, which is the way it was meant to be.


Can you transcribe music ??

Posted by: MommaBear on August 10, 2003 06:31 PM

Don't fret, your dear son will be back soon.

Posted by: Laura on August 10, 2003 06:31 PM

I know exactly how you

Posted by: Trease on August 10, 2003 07:35 PM

That's nice A-man. I wish I could hear you play it. I have 3 boys myself, I can't imagine what it's like for you.

Posted by: asm on August 10, 2003 08:48 PM

I like.

Verse like that is real easy. Just open a vein.

Posted by: Stephen on August 12, 2003 06:26 PM
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