Ballad of the Hulk - Jerry Jeff Walker

    The cycle of life is here to see in all of its fine simplicity
    But the way we live it seems to be, something very weird to me
    And I cry out

    For pettiness like lady's chatter seems to complicate the matter
    I grit my teeth as my senses chatter for nothing gets me much madder
    As I leap out

    For big or little, great or small, it really doesn't matter at all
    The way we shuffle our feet and hem and haw, 'cause everybody's afraid they'll fall
    Or else be left out

    But what's right for me or strange to you shouldn't make a damn on what you do
    'Cause whether or not you make it through, I thought that you already knew
    That I'll keep you going

    And the World War III and the World Series

    Will make the same size headlines in the news

    From all I've seen of politics, it's just a greasy big money stick
    That's geared to run on tounges so slick to make you think this is all there is
    Boy you're lucky (You're stuck with Humphrey)

    How they con the little middle man into thinkin' he has got a hand
    To play in the future of the promised land, he owes himself to the destiny of man
    Gets ridiculous

    A cheap gangster hires someone to do his dirty work with a tommy gun
    While the President just points at anyone and says "I, your country needs some killing done
    Go do it now boy"

    The war itself is bad enough, it can break you down no matter how tough
    But the tragedy of all the hoopla stuff, it makes you think you can't do enough
    For the shiny symbols

    And the other countries feel the same as we
    And regret that I have but one country to give for my life

    The preacher stands in his holy shroud sayin' "God forgives you if you do it now"
    But if you come back when the chips are down, you'll find they've all gone underground
    To pray for you

    A homosexual, disturbed priest feels that he can preach to me
    The right way to go and raise a family and I'm forced to look at him and say "you mean
    You're guessin"

    The population is getting higher, the poverty poor, the pregnant tired
    Are waiting on the Pope to be inspired for some new contraceptive attire
    Saying "It's cool now"

    It's a ghost behind a one-way mirror listening tip-toed at the door to hear
    If someone outside won't speak the year then they'll slip a note out how they feel
    About pierced ear-lobes

    But the rules made now for the changing cows
    Are a little late and will be out of date by tomorrow

    Her mother placed on virginity saying it was the holy place to be
    For the things boys had were evilry when it came time for matrimony
    She froze and died there

    Her sister at fourteen very well known thought all the kicks came lying there prone
    But a fundamental fact not spoken at home left her feeling like a chewed on bone
    And why she wondered

    One chicj who dug moving about, very liberal minded and often spoke out
    How she was cool and understood no doubt with the blankets up and the lights turned out
    And you're condescending

    A couple together for five or six years, a marriage license they'd never been near
    But social pressure and loss of job fear got them married and divorced in half a year
    They couldn't cut it

    It's all talked about but still it's lived around
    And what is right for me could be perversity in any state law book

    I'm told a minstrel at one time was allowed to sing and make his rhymes
    To comment on the news of the times and say directly what's in people's minds
    And he made tips for it

    But today try playing on some street curb, singin' the news in everyday words
    The people pass by the laughin' is heard or else they hit you where it hurts
    They keep their ears closed

    One man said "Boy, I dig your stuff, I want you to come play in my club
    I'll put your name in lights up above, but just remember I got a club to run
    So don't be too strong"

    It ain't your writers who sell out, it's the damn censors who turn about
    My life learned adjectives and vowels and say that my mouth is much too foul
    To clearly speak to you

    But try to hit a nail and if the hammer fails
    Then the words you use to describe that bruise is basic language

    I hoboed around and sang the songs that everybody knew and hummed along
    To amuse myself I wrote some songs, talkin' about things that could be right or wrong
    And I'm a little different

    A record company you know well wanted to know if my song would sell
    I said, "Yes, I like it very well, if you don't sir, you can go to hel--p"
    Somebody else change

    So I kept playin' and bummin' around, singin' to the ones who dug my sound
    Some guys ask "Won't you play my town", i ask fair bread they put me down
    Their Caddie's mortgaged

    Tried one deal, like "it's you and me", this guy said he could be of some use to me
    But when I found he's puttin' screws to me, I tipped my hat and made it back to the street
    Singin' new folk songs

    If there's time enough, the hill ain't too rough
    What I wrote today, I might someday play, and make tips for it

    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words