Humor

© Copyright 2021 Peter Lloyd

I was feelin bout as groomed as Genghis Kahn
When I came across a place called Saul’s Salon
I walked in and said, “I need a haircut, Saul”
He said, “Sit on down, neighbor, and I’ll cut em all!”

He tossed a sheet across me and said, “I’m Bob
“It can get a little hairy, but I love my job”
“I believe you, Bob, but as I recall
“The sign on your window says your name is Saul”

“Well, what is truth,” Bob philosophized
“Is there really any difference tween truth and lies?
“Can you prove that E equals M C squared?
“When the Rapture comes will you be prepared?”

“The thing about it is, Bob, facts are facts
“And what you believe determines how you act”
I said, “There’s only one reality”
That’s when Bob interrupted me

“Everybody’s got their own reality
“I got mine and it’s right for me
“Does it really matter if I’m Bob or Saul
“Long as I answer when you call?”

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it

I saw no use confronting Bob’s insanity
So I decided to ignore him and watch TV
Looked up on the wall and there on the screen
Was the spookiest creature I’ve ever seen

Her eyes were blazing, what she said, absurd
Though the sound was down, I could read every word
The more I read, the more I realized
What got into Bob was a shitload of lies

I said to Bob “I think I know what’s up with you?
“You been watching too damn much Fox News
“It’s no good for your brain, it’ll sicken your soul
“In the middle of your heart, leave a gaping hole

“Well,” Bob replied, “I got news for you
“Covid’s a hoax and global warming too
“The election was stolen, nine-eleven was staged
“The Clinton’s eat babies, but no babies were caged

“Obama’s from Kenya, and masks don’t work
“Sleepy Joe Biden is a socialist jerk
“The earth is flat and the moon is too
“I know cuz I watch — Fox News”

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it

Bob’s not a fool, he’s just misinformed 
Like in Orwell’s story, nineteen-eighty-four
Took a little longer but it’s coming true 
And the people behind it — Fox News

No respect for the truth, don’t even know what it means 
Nothing but a clusterfuck of lying machines
First they lie, then you catch em, then they start denyin
If their lips are moving, you know they’re lyin

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it

Even if you don’t believe the Earth is round
I think we can still find common ground 
Cuz there’s one thing we can never deny
If we hear it on Fox, it’s a goddamn lie

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin the truth

Fox News Blues

© Copyright 2020 Peter Lloyd
Melody adapted from "Beautiful Dreamer" by Stephen Foster

No, bladder cancer’s not such a bad fate
Not ‘less you miss it or treat it too late
Urologists spot it, no matter how small
Then go in and scape it right off of the wall

To get to your tumor, they don’t have to cut 
They don’t turn you over and go up your butt
The way to your bladder’s not in through your nose
They go up your schlong with long, rubber hose

Poor little penis takes all the pains
Gives only pleasure and never complains
Poor little penis just longs to be
A stout-hearted poker and not a poke-ee
A stout-hearted poker and not a poke-ee

First they prepare you and put you to sleep
Into a twilight you go, not too deep
Meanwhile your penis takes all of the flak
While you in your twilight, lie flat on your back

Poor little penis takes all the pains
Gives only pleasure and never complains
Poor little penis just longs to be
A stout-hearted poker and not a poke-ee
A stout-hearted poker and not a poke-ee

No, bladder cancer’s not such a bad fate
Not ‘less you miss it or treat it too late
So go see your doctor, and one who’s well known
For treating each penis as if it’s his own

Poor little penis takes all the pains
Gives only pleasure and never complains
Poor little penis just longs to be
A stout-hearted poker and not a poke-ee
A stout-hearted poker and not a poke-ee

Poor Little Penis

Walk on Ice (country)

Life Gets Better is a song about holding on, about choosing to see the good in the world, and about embracing joy—not because life is easy, but because we deserve happiness, even in the face of struggle.

The lyrics are a reminder that kindness, love, and human connection matter, that our worth isn’t defined by wealth, and that no matter how dark things may seem, there is always light to be found.

Lyrics:
There’s a lot in this world that can get you down.
You see darkness, evil, hate all around.
You want to rise out from the garbage mounds
Well, sometimes you just need to take time to 
Explore the world and look beyond

 and

You’ll notice Life gets better when you can
See the good’n every one
Where’er they’re from 
Or what they have done
No matter what life brings
You can find the good, find the good.

Don’t fill your life with things
The heart needs love, your heart needs love
When you fall then just get up
‘cause life is good, this life is good
And you can’t change that.

So

See the good in everything,
What life may bring.
Just let your heart sing

And see the good.

Life Gets Better

Feu d'amour

I dropped them slow, like little lies
Each crumb a shape of home
But I could feel the sky lean in
The trees begin to moan
They watched us walk away too far
Too deep to change our minds
And when the birds began to stir
We left no trail behind

We left no trail behind
We left no trail behind
Oh, We left no trail behind

Feed the crows, feed the crows
They know the way you chose
They’ll eat the road, they’ll eat the light
And leave you with the bones

She held my hand like kindling
Like she knew the end was fire
We slept on roots, we spoke in twigs
And dreamed of bread and wire
But I saw feathers in the dusk
And hunger in the trees
The forest wasn’t keeping us
It taught the crows to feed

It taught the crows to feed
It taught the crows to feed
Oh, It taught the crows to feed
Feed the crows, feed the crows
They circle what you owe
They do not mourn, they do not wait
They take it nice and slow

So now I walk with black-winged ghosts
The path a line of smoke
My sister somewhere deeper still
The woods her wedding cloak
And me, I lay the final piece
Where no one dares to go
A final crumb, a quiet gift—
An altar for the crows

An altar for the crows
An altar for the crows
Oh, An altar for the crows

Feed The Crows

ohhhhhhhhhhhhh,
hmmmmmmmmmmmm,
A lonely lullaby,
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

A lonely lullaby,

lay, lay, 

rest your dream,

ohhhh,

Sprit comes into your head,
says,

Do You Live in the Rain?
hmmmmm,

Do you dwell
Where darkness crys?

ohhhhh,

A lonely lullaby,

A lonely lullaby,

ohhhhhhhhhhhhh,
hmmmmmmmmmmmm,
A lonely lullaby,
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

A lonely lullaby,




The lights decay—
Time gets lost
And fades away.


Beneath your bed—
Rain taps soft
Where dreams have bled.

Do you breathe
In thunder’s name?

Drip by drip,


Down haunted halls—
No one knocks,
But someone calls.
A lonely lullaby,

A lonely lullaby,

oh, A lonely lullaby,

Do you sleep

Until the dawn.

Eyes like glass,
Hands of pain—
You exist
But don’t resist.

A lonely lullaby,

A lonely lullaby,

oh, A lonely lullaby,


Rain begins,
You never run.

Tell me now,
Through windowpane—

Do you live
Inside the rain?

A lonely lullaby,

A lonely lullaby,

oh, A lonely lullaby,

A lonely lullaby,

A lonely lullaby,

oh, A lonely lullaby,

A lonely lullaby

O Soul of My Soul (A Mourning Hymn)

Ohhh... I lay on the moor...
Oooooh, so cold... so cold,
Yet still I breathe...
Hmmmm... I breathe and grieve...
Though thou art gone, I live.

Oooo... the wind, it moans thy name—
Ohhh, the heather weeps the same.
Thy grave is near,
Thy voice I hear...
Hmmmm... in every gust of flame.

I weep by thy stone—
Oooooo, I weep alone.
Ohhh, love of mine,
Thy touch was warm...
Now only frost is thine.

Ohhhhhh... soul from my soul,
Ooooohhh, come back, come whole.
Thy shadow clings—
It walks with me,
Across the hills, endlessly.

Hmmm... I sing, I sigh, I plead,
Oooo... rise, though Death may lead.
Break from the clay,
Ohhh, break the sleep—
For love is strong, and love runs deep.

Ohhhh, soul of my soul,
Come home, come home...
Hmmmm... I am thine—still thine,
Though stars have dimmed
And God keeps time.

Ooooohhh...

PB2025
PAGES IN CLOUDS
PATRICK BURKE 2025

(A Mourning Hymn)

She,
 eats the flies,
 as she speaks,
ohhhh,
Their wings,
 still trembling,
 on her cheeks.

They crawl from lips where poison sleeps—

Ohhhhh,
She smiles, 
and promises she keeps.

The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,


But hear them snap—
those little bones—

Each lie she speaks becomes a groan.
Ohhhhhh,
Hmmmmmmm,


The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,

The flies,
 are crushed in rotting teeth,
A grinding truth,

 that crawls beneath.
Ohhhhhh,

Her eyes are glass,
 her hands are still,
Yet in her mouth,
 a glutton’s thrill—

The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,

She,
 eats the flies,
 as she speaks,
ohhhh,
Their wings,
 still trembling,
 on her cheeks.

She feasts on grief,
 on sins half-spoke,

While in her throat the dead things choke.
Ohhhhhh,

The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,
ohhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,

She,
 eats the flies,
 as she speaks,
ohhhh,
Their wings,
 still trembling,
 on her cheeks.


She eats the flies—
she eats regret.
Hmmmmmm,

And with each bite,
 she can’t forget.
So let her talk,
 and let them die—

The truth decays. The flies still lie.

The Lies Between Her Teeth,
Ohhhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth,
Ohhhhhh,
The Lies Between Her Teeth.

pb2025

She,  eats the flies

Glyn Hyde - The End Of Something 2019

#StarWhale становится не просто музыкальным произведением, а звуковым порталом, через который слушатель может услышать песню вселенной, ощутить космическую ностальгию и вспомнить о своем звездном происхождении. Это музыка для космических русалок и звездных китов — для всех, кто слышит зов далеких галактик и помнит дом среди звезд.

XVII. Звезда

Lamorna's Lullaby

Words and music © Copyright 1971, 2016 Peter Lloyd

You left your footprints on the doorstep of my heart when you walked out
You caught my finger when you slammed the door
I guess you didn’t hear me when I opened it up to shout
“I guess this means you don’t love me anymore?”
 
You took along all my favorite phonograph records and you don’t own a stereo
I still don’t understand how you’re gonna hear them play
I guess it doesn’t matter. They were all scratched and kind of old
Keep the damn things. I never played them anyway

My darling, how can I forget you with your footprints on my heart
And all my records stole from me besides?
There’s so much I want to say to you, but I don’t know where to start
So I’ll stop

Footprints

Merry Christmas, boys and girls
Come on, sit on Santa’s lap
I’ll tell you story about a toy
And a very bad boy

Well, Mom bought Larry a Starter-Up Steve
The truck that puts kids in the driver’s seat
They punch in a program, and the truck moves slow
At least that’s how the commercial goes

No, Mom didn’t know it, but she’d soon find out
What the darker side of fun was all about
You see, Larry was cuter than a newborn cub 
But he’d sold his soul to Beelzebub

Starter-Up Steve 
Starter-Up Steve    

Mama watched Larry “oo” and “ah” 
Punching Steve’s buttons with his cute li’l paw 
But she got bored and snuck up to the sack 
Now Steve was headed for the end of his track 

The boy hopped Steve like a kangaroo 
Up, back, left, right, and wheelies, too
As Larry kept driving, anyone could tell 
He was setting up Steve for one living hell

Starter-Up Steve 
Starter-Up Steve    

Steve tried to avoid his rendezvous
But he could only do what he was programmed to 
His tires screeched and his motor raced
And he drove right into the fireplace

His plastic chassis went up in flame
Bounced out of the fire on its twisted frame
Then he spun around trailing sparks and soot 
Took a hit on his hood from the kid’s left foot

Starter-Up Steve
Starter-Up Steve    

That mean little devil, he squealed with glee
Chasin’ flamin’ Steve ‘round the Christmas tree 
The tree caught fire with a hefty roar
And the boy followed Steve out the parlor door 

Then the whole damn house went up in smoke 
‘Course Larry took it all as one big joke
No more diapers, no more pins
No more Mommy’s goo-goo grins

Starter-Up Steve 
Starter-Up Steve    

Now Steve, started movin’ at a blindin’ speed
Burning ‘cross the lawn toward the hickory tree
He hit that trunk at a terrible pace
Made a big impression on his plastic face

Larry ran up to his loyal chum
All hot and gooey like chewing gum
Steve’s one good eye rolled back in his head
And the boy cried, “Damn! Stupid Steve is dead.”

Starter-Up Steve 
Starter-Up Steve    

Now mom and dad, it’s time once more
To run on down to your big, box store
Just keep in mind when you’re buyin toys
What happens in the hands of innocent boys

Take your list and check it twice
But before you buy take my advice
No matter what you get for your sweet li’l son
He’s bound to find the darker side of fun

Starter-Up Steve 
Starter-Up Steve

© Copyright 2016 Peter Lloyd

The Darker Side of Fun

Words, music, and performance © Copyright 2017 Peter Lloyd

This song is brought to you by Amerikoch
And now a word from our sponsor

Everything we own must go
So now’s the time for saving
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Your every need and craving

Back to our song

I’ve been told
The roads of Hell are lined with gold
The rats dress up in pinstripe suits
And tom cats prowl in combat boots

And now a word from our sponsor

Buy yourself a congressperson
Buy one for your cousin
Buy eleven, get one free
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Back to our song

Tell me why
When camels spy the needle’s eye
They turn away, begin to cry
And start to sing a sad goodbye

And now a final word from our sponsor

Buy a slice of Uncle Sam 
Yes, now’s the time to order
Operators standing by
Somewhere beyond the border

That’s our song. See you next time

Welcome to Amerikoch

Songwriter since 1966. Can't believe I still have to write protest songs. Prefer writing love songs and songs of praise for stand-up women and men, parodies, lyrical nonsense, blues and adaptations.

Welcome to Amerikoch

Peter Lloyd

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