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King, For Elvis Aaron Presley

10 Jan

Royalty has died, I’m looking

for an idol of years gone by

A ghost from decades past,

drenched in sweat, in my sleep I hear him cry

The broken tunes of heartfelt dreams,

pulling up the flower by the root

Honesty has drowned in this swill,

here’s a song, give me all my loot

But guitar man can you play that song

You know the one I want, have you forgotten

A king played it years ago, with all his heart and his soul

And then they bought him

Six string dream, a handful of queens,

owned by a man in a hat, from south of who knows where

Many tell me now that they are next in line

for the throne that he left there

But where is the heart and where is the soul

that’re absent from the melodies today

Songs come off a production line and

if you want it boy, you’re going to have to pay

January 8, 1986 Copyright 1986-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved


4 Jan

She rationalizes things, between the seams of the illusions

That she keeps, to help her hide

Her candy-coated proclamations touched my dreams

And were so bitter as they trickled down inside

She brought the waking of some I’d put to bed

But with a drink of fear, and a handful of abuse

I met her indignation when I saw her mask

Or the remorse of one whose neck is in the noose

If you ever meet Christine, at first, you won’t see what I mean

Whimsical agendas are too fleeting to be sure

Those commitments she’d espouse are cumbersome to pass by mouth

But how I loved to swallow them, and down they’d go, so hard and sore

And Christine always loved to offer more

I’ll call you first thing Monday, she’d say again

And every time I did believe the phone would ring

Deep in my gut I knew it would never be

But I would eat her words of empty offering

So that’s the man I am, the fool to choose it

I’m so fearless when I know where it will go

So I’m no better, am I, I ain’t no worse

But am I bound to stay this way, well, I don’t know

Lord help me, oh Lord help me, it’s down to me

Out in this field of faults I stumble to the hole

My heart has broke in two, my mind’s a prison

And if I find her again I’ll lose my soul

1/27/00 Copyright 2000-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

Peace Be On Your Ashes

4 Jan

will I speak to you tomorrow? we just keep screaming

the same old lines as before

you wont listen to what I’m saying, you want to

make sure your death is no surprise to you anymore,

I know you mean it when you say it that you really

want to end it, its plainly not as simple as you say

I’m trying not to get too distant, but your story’s to inconsistent,

and you deny it and you lie to me everyday

painting pictures and pretending, dreaming of a world

that can never ever be making it fit your story ending,

peace be on your ashes cast to sea,

hope you find your secret,

peace be on your ashes cast to sea

is it so much better where you’re going

you can tie your shoes is nearly all you know and now the reaper is going

to be your only friend, I guess your dust will grace this earth now,

maybe you’ll have a rebirth now, but you’ll never keep the things you find there in the end

you know that I will always miss you, you know

that I wont forget to pray, everyday and when I look up into the heavens

I’ll say, “St. Anthony, I’ve got a miracle for you to do today,

could you make sure she isn’t crying, could you hang her picture up on Orion,

I know that I would recognize her very well, because I know what her spirit looks like

and I got feeling on a good night she’s the brightest star protecting me from hell

April 24, 1991 Copyright 1991-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

Mary Jane, She’s Gone

4 Jan

she dances on the patio this evening

a fancy ball is spinning in her head

she smokes the devils cigarettes and drinks his fancy tea

through bamboo she’s calling you, a whistling melody

when you arrive you’ll see, when you arrive you’ll see

Mary Jane she’s gone, Mary Jane she’s gone,

and all the life that she’ll never know

no one can ever show to Mary Jane

and chances are that she’ll be back tomorrow

when her breath will bring her body back to life

it drags her from her barstool dream and picks her world apart

the sun is down you know she’s bound to make another start

to stop her slowly beating heart, to stop her slowly beating heart


bridge   the whistle blows she’s off and running

to the devil’s den and the moon is coming

May 2, 1991 Copyright 1991-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

That Last And Final Show

4 Jan

It’s warm enough to walk without my gloves on

but I wear my childhood so close to my skin

and the very heart I hang up all my loves on

is the one that wont let anybody in

there’s a light that has my shadow leading me Westward

while I’m acting out the dance for one last time

like a puppet show with a sadly smiling jester

with the blessing of a last long road to climb

it’s that last and final show

and all that you believe in is all you really know

it’s that last and final show

and you never believe they’re leaving, ‘til you see them go

when its done the curtain falls like rainy weather

and washes off’ the edges of the stage

and my words are all I have left and that’s forever

but the muse wont help me piece another page

the night’s getting colder, and the world’s growing older

my heart is aching for some rest

I’m trying to stand still here, but my body won’t obey dear

I feel my soul weakly leaping from my chest

lord see to it that I’m blessed if this kills me

and I’m surrounded by the closings and conclusions

and you’re out there and free to run tonight

for a battle that don’t have no resolution

where did we come up with so much time to fight

June 2, 1990 Copyright 1990-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

I’ll Get By

4 Jan

Hey Mister, could you give me a ride, I like how you fly up there, so high

I wouldn’t ask, but since you did invite

I know I’ll do my share of the chores, but some people find me a little course

And then imperceptibly, they plan for the divorce

So is it a handshake, or a slap on the back you prefer?

We could be friends, but it demands more than business would incur

I don’t care what you say or do, actions tell who’s really who

You think I’ll know you better with time? I don’t think you think I’m ‘your kind’

But hey Mister, I’ll get by, hey, Mister, I’ll get by

Glad that I asked for the ride,

Now you don’t want to see me cry

Hey, Mister, I’ll get by

I may be more than you want to know, and probably more than you want me to show

Fellows are usually confused by where I go

If it’s one color that you want to see, you’re probably blinded looking at me

And I can’t imagine we’ll find much on which to agree

But I’ve got your number; it’s been a long time in my mind

I know the privacy issues and big cigars you hide ‘em behind

I don’t care what you say or do, actions tell who’s really who

You think I’ll know you better with time? I don’t think you think I’m ‘your kind’

But hey, Mister, I’ll get by

Hey, Mister, I’ll get by

Glad that I asked for the ride,

Now you don’t want to see me cry

Hey Mister, I’ll get by

October 15, 1999 Copyright 1999-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved


31 Dec

Considering the new, the old, the in between, I go
To take a look at where I’ve been and where I’ve come to now
Another masquerade has ended and I’m off to run again
Invent a new one I’ll turn hope into again

I’m on this great divide, watching ships go by
Passing back and forth, I stiffen up and stay the course

I have no big surprises, just quiet compromises
I have as much as I would need, oh everybody knows
You’ve watched with puzzled glances, how I had all my chances
I never seemed to get there, but the ride has sure been sweet

In this game where I don’t know how to compete
And this history I seemed destined to repeat
Is this story I just can’t seem to complete

I’ve pondered every angle, every moment that defined me
I’ve introspected till I could turn in no more
Another made up personality would be the way to go
But I’ve forgotten now which one was me and what was show

And in this great divide, I’ve flagged down every ride
Missing every time the one that would be most sublime

© 2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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