My mother was a gypsy,
My father a product of war,
I was born under a tent,
In the back of a five-and-dime store.
Both my parents worked like dogs,
In the bogs picking cranberries all day,
They had six kids, five too many I would say,
Because being one was no fun,
It was a battle every day.

My father used to say to me,
There’s something that I have inbred in you,
Even if it’s the only thing I have to say,
That you’ll ever listen to:

“Don’t trust anyone,
And never let them get in your way,
There’s only winners and losers,
There’s nothing in between,
You’ll be crushed by the truth,
You must be strong and lean.”

It took some time for me to know
What my father was schooling me,
As a kid I was quite new,
And never quite could see,
But I didn’t want to live my life,
Questioning everyone I met,
And think, in spite of what they say,
They’d strip my safety net.

So I decided that I would heed my father’s words,
And lead my life as guarded as could be,
And move myself from the bog,
Deeper in the woods, deeper in the trees.
Years passed as if they were days.          
                                                                
My parents died, my siblings drifted away,
Now I was an old man with a long grey beard,
And every day, with the birds, I shared
The words my father said to me:

“Don’t trust anyone,
And never let them get in your way,
There’s only winners and losers,
There’s nothing in between.
You’ll be crushed by the truth,
You must be strong and lean.”

So in the forest, I spent my life,
Never found love, never a wife,
Just remembrances of empty days,
No children about me that I can teach them my ways,
Just solitary me, with the sky and the trees,
A lonely man at best.
But my father would be proud,
I heard his message clear and loud,
So I sang it long and not so proud. 
​
“Don’t trust anyone,
And never let them get in your way,
There’s only winners and losers,
There’s nothing in between.
You’ll be crushed by the truth,
You must be strong and lean.”

My friend, named Jack, he lives on a hill.
He’s no Jack, like in Jack and Jill.
He’s unique, he’s one of a kind,
he’s cut from just one cloth, he’s of a singular mind.
Jack sees the world from a mile high, 5000 ft in the sky.
He asks questions until he’s blue in the face.
He sees the world differently than you and I.
 
He woke one day and found he was changed in every way.
He was transformed overnight into a man who’s not quite right.
His voice broke like never before as he tried to feel his feet touching the floor.
But his body said hold on tight, you’re on a new trip that starts tonight.
 
Jack doesn’t look for sympathy,
that’s not who he’s going to be.
He just wants to walk and smell the fresh air.
That hospital, that bed, he was determined to get out of there.
His life now a series of ‘new normal’ to get under his belt.
Power business trips, fighting the cold, hotel rooms alone, he won’t miss;
he’s too busy living, making the most of the cards he’s been dealt.

We all are injured in our own way.
Sometimes it goes quickly other times it just stays.
We’re all seeking to find our way
striving to fly and once again soar into the sky.
We spend our lives trying to cut that which holds us back.
Of course it’s harder for us, cause we’re not Jack.
 
Jack seeks us out, wants to know the thoughts in our mind.
He’s there when we need him or find ourselves in a bind.
He’s the anchor we need as we strive to make it right,
as our thoughts turn, drag us down in the dark of the night.
Jack plows through it all, he accepts who he now is.
He accepts his short fall, he reasons with firm belief.
Although not sound of body, he’s sound in mind.
No, he’s no victim, he’s no victim at all,
He’s nothing but inspiration to one and to all.
 
Jack loves the rodeo, it’s something to see.
He would be there every day, if such a thing could be.
If he had his dithers, he’d be a rodeo man,
tall, lanky, and confident with a Texas dark tan.
He’d love to ride a bronc, he’d love to wrestle a cow
but now, walking with a cane, he’ll not take that bow.
You’ll find him in the front row watching as they play.
It’s all he can do. In the front row he’ll stay.
​
Someone said they saw Jack several months ago.
He was traveling up north before the big snow,
traveling light, with his bass boat in tow.
Where the hell he was going, nobody would know.
He finds he is stronger out there in the wood.
He traded out his former life, one for him that wasn’t very good.
If we stop to think of Jack a moment each day
he’ll show us this life’s true path, a much better way.

​I’m packing my pony.
I’m calling it a day.
I won’t be burdened by my plight.
I’ve given most of my stuff away,
just for spite.
I don’t need stuff all around me
to support the man I want to be.
The more stuff I have, the more I don’t need;
just give me food, water, and my trusted steed.


I’m going to the mountain, it’s the place I need to be
To capture that piece that’s crying out to me.
I need to drink water that runs crystal and clear.
Take deep breaths of the cleanest clean air.
I need not to be caught in traffic for hours every day.
They can have that, all those city dwellers at play.

I’m a man possessed to find my own way.
Like you, I’m here for a visit, I’m not here to stay.
My father gave me confidence, my mother gave me heart.
The devil is in the detail, now comes the hardest part.
There’s no need for your meandering, you need not tag along.
I can hear the words calling me, but this might not be your song.
It’s my passion to air it out, I will give it a mighty big boy scout shout.
Yes, yes, I’m tied up in knots,
forgive me, forget me not.

Dylan has now turned eighty,
I’m not too far behind,
I’ve read his lyrics and sang his songs.
But there’s no way to make them mine,
he’s a troubadour, he’s one of a kind.
 
I always dress in black, you always ask me why,
They sent me more colors, but I sent them back.
I’m allergic to the dye.
My aspirations defined,
I don’t need the support of a million people more.
Nor the stuff I can get, for a nickel or a dime at the Newport candy store.

My lesson, yes, my lesson for today is
to be who God made me to be,
even if that means giving all my stuff away,
Its just clutter, some relationships I now see, are too.
Sometimes you can’t put all the pieces together,
even with Elmer’s super glue

So pack your pony,
And be who you were created to be.
Experience the joy of being you,
be the best that you can be.

You’re not on solid ground to beat the Lady down.
She welcomed all to her shores,
and the world’s still breaking down her door.
A refuge of hope for all to come in.
To beat on her is just a sin.
 
With open arms she’s paid the price,
of blood, guts and great sacrifice.
Her men and women have laid down their lives,
to uphold and protect the freedom they enjoyed.
They decided they would not live in a void,
but would fight for those who have no rights, no freedoms, no hope.
To lay them over a mother’s love that’s divine and from above.

Make no mistake our Lady’s not frail or sick.
She proves more than often she can take a lick.
But when all options fail and when things demand
never fear, she will provide a powerful hand.
She will punish those who spend their day
putting her children in harm’s way.

Rant what you will and rave if you must;
question the vision and doubt, don’t trust.
The Lady allows you the freedom to disagree,
to challenge the reason, the right to speak free.
That’s what makes her the best Lady of all.
She’ll persevere in spite of any fall.
She’ll get up again with even greater might
continue on and never cease to fight.
 
No, you’re not on solid ground
To always beat the Lady down.
She welcomed all to her shores,
and the world’s still breaking down her door.
A refuge of hope for all to come in.
To beat on her is just a sin.