the ship is sinking but we can't let go,
your mind is playing nasty tricks on you,
the moon is full, you react on cue,
pilot light is out, no one is home,
inside the crowd you're playing alone,
window to the world in your hand,
a simple truth, hard to understand,
too late to catch a ride back home,
the blues will be the color you own,
tapping your feet to the beat of the parking lot,
marching around in the plaza parking lot
It was the strange case of the missing cottage cheese
No need to unpack, cause I sold all my crap,
like the wind, I'm free to roam,
on a wayward ship with a replaced hip,
a storm looms on the horizon,
sirens wail, the lighthouse fails,
the skipper threw himself into the sea
Come on Mable, Come on Pearl,
everybody's heading' out tonight,
up Stouville way there's a hayride,
that's south of Sutton on the east side,
you can't lay low with a go cart halo,
comic relief is all too brief,
there's a big deflection in the business section,
they celebrate low interest rates,
borrow tomorrow, drown your sorrows,
return the favor in a different flavor,
been losing sleep over you,
come on Mable, Come on Pearl,
everybody's heading' out tonight,
up Stouville way there's a hayride,
that's south of Sutton on the east side,
from the inkwell to the Quinsam hotel,
do the pipeline jig in your mother's wig,
birds of a feature, extreme weather,
Cache Creek flood with Fraser mud,
it's after dark in the trailer park,
from dusk till dawn the party's on,
been losing sleep over you,
come on, Come on,
everybody's heading' out tonight
Diets and diamonds,
prescriptions to nowhere,
clawing through the mother lode
Politicians, promising the moon,
sipping on decaf tea,
talking 'bout what they'll do
for the tax paying middle class
Rectangle proxy,
you start moving slower,
Rectangle proxy,
set the bar lower,
Riots and fire,
media boomerang,
getting paid to pay attention,
kill the story, there's a roadblock ahead,
by a nose, opinion polls,
unveil the agenda,
show the hidden costs
In the trailer park tango, the seer walks the beat,
he's got a piece of pickup truck, no license plates,
he mows the lawn and he gathers driftwood off the shore,
he helps Scank when she overdoses,
he says she draws too many rats,
she dropped by one quiet evening, for a weak one in the herd,
she enticed me with pretend beer and salad,
just empty bottles and a big bowl of grass from around her trailer
You're down to 201.2, that's all that's left of you,
it's your reward as spring begins under a bright full moon,
there's a caravan coming, the atmosphere is humming,
hotels are booked, pay the cooks some overtime,
we went to Casey's hardware store, planks broke through the floor,
beneath the weight of all those years browsing through the merchandise,
the endless stuff, can't get enough,
it's your average hoarder's dream come true,
if I had a quarter for every politician talking 'bout a border,
I could afford to be a hoarder like my neighbor,
they've got so much stuff, they're imprisoned sure enough,
can't locate an exit door, books and magazines, antiques and cleaning supplies,
dust thick as molasses, old granny glasses, cake mix from the 2nd world war, Virginia license plates, cast-iron stove from a caboose,
head and antlers of a moose, lawn furniture and camping gear,
a shower stall and mirrors, VCR and stacks of tapes,
a big box color TV, winter tires, a life size poster of Steve McQueen,
all the stuff you accumulate, here today and gone tomorrow,
recycled like the passing wind, the caravan moves on without you
You can't stop progress, no matter what you do, it'll roll you over,
it's gonna change you, for better or worse,
haul you off in a hearse, you can cry the blues, but it's plowing through,
pull your head out of your ass, you can't live in the past,
the city council is doing what's best for you,
cut it, burn it and pave it, we need another condo tower in this earthquake zone, emergency, what's wrong with me, the city planners got no manners,
something seems funny, it's all old money, running the show, selling the lingo,
of a catch phrase craze, in the media haze,
crazy days in the urban maze, progressive brassier is gonna squeeze you dear,
you'll be wound so tight, nothing syncs right,
you can't stop progress, no matter what you do, it'll roll you over,
it's gonna change you
Someone threw a cigarette out the window and burned the province away
It was a cold October night in downtown Calgary,
a young man leaned against a building and gazed at the silhouette city,
pennies in his pocket, no prospects ahead,
just want ads in the morning paper,
soon wearing asbestos gloves in a factory,
guiding molded aluminum out of an oven
You got seniors in a hurry,
no one knows why,
seniors in a hurry,
no one knows why,
talking 'bout their love lives,
like they're in their teens,
memorials, sandwiches,
free of charge,
senior's discount,
free of charge,
seniors in a hurry,
no one knows why,
seniors in a hurry,
no one knows why,
living in the slow lane,
push that pedal to the medal,
blue hairs fly again
down to Mexico,
big scare, underwear,
down in Mexico,
seniors in a hurry,
no one knows why,
seniors in a hurry,
no one knows why,
obituary blues,
walking 'round the mall,
recline, nap time,
your ship has sailed,
golf clubs, back rubs,
your ship has sailed,
seniors in a hurry,
no one knows why,
seniors in a hurry,
to get to a funeral,
seniors in a hurry,
no time to wait around,
seniors in a hurry,
to reach the finish line
Everyone has a lonesome death, it don't matter whose around
The cold Alberta full moon shone over the factory parking lot,
grinning down on the coverall night shift
It's a beck and call protocol
Old Poke-Along Joe,
he's driving slow,
don't know which way to go,
he's taking his time,
he's got a wandering mind.
now he's driving slower,
like he's on a lawn mower,
centre to the shoulder,
watch out for the big boulder
Old Poke-Along Joe,
the seat belt's tight ,
turning left to right,
can't make a decision,
he's got tunnel vision ,
I'm keeping well behind,
he might stop on a dime,
with a sudden burst,
he might shift in reverse
Old Roger never spoke a word about politics, until he retired,
he was at home in his kitchen one stormy afternoon,
eating a baloney sandwich,
when a flash flood came roaring down Bridgeview Road,
and washed a couple of stunned looking goats
through his front door
A romantic past filtered with age, an unknown cast assembled on stage,
she was born in prohibition,
grew up on conditions centered in the second world war,
the wind of disaster, everything moved faster,
no way to slow the momentum,
before the doors shut,
waiting for the bounce of some friendly luck
There was always something rolling down the freeway,
there were lots of bypasses to take,
rest stop in the middle of nowhere,
in case you want to fall asleep at the wheel,
sunrise in your eyes ,
a town in the rear view mirror,
a construction zone ahead,
Grateful Dead playing in your head,
the company execs don't pay tax,
the company requests you kiss it's ass,
just a game they play, signing cheques all day,
union dues in arrears,
union man says he's working for the man,
don't try to semi-retire,
need to keep you hired
and working till it's time for the grave
Down the angry river, your cause will take hold,
down the angry river, your time will unfold,
down the angry river
With just cause, the devil will pardon your sins
I get the blues when you hang around,
I get the blues when you leave,
gotta pay the tab, get myself out of here
I get the blues when I hear you talk,
I get the blues when you lie,
Gotta pay the tab, get myself out of here,
don't be so brash, we don't carry cash,
identity, it ain't me,
don't trust us, media justice,
its queer and draws you near,
if that's your only fear,
pay the bill and get out of here,
library in a different key,
I can't believe I'm a refugee,
can't find peace when you're next to me,
I get the blues with the homeless scene,
I get the blues with the zombies,
gotta pay the cab fare, get myself out of here
I get the blues from social media,
I get the blues from the trivia,
gotta pay the cab fare, get myself out of here,
I get the blues from the right and left,
I get the blues from the power play,
gotta pay the cab fare, get myself out of here,
I get the blues from the waste we make,
I get the blues from the extremes,
gotta pay the cab fare
She was always heading' south,
I was always heading' north,
oh yeah, out of sync,
she was always going somewhere,
I was always under here,
oh yeah, out of sync,
she was always right way up,
I was always left way out,
oh yeah, out of sync,
she was always city girl,
I was always country boy,
oh yeah, out of sync,
she was always hurry up,
I was always poke along,
oh yeah, out of sync,
she was always going somewhere,
I was always going nowhere
I'm wearing a dead guy's clothes,
I suppose, I suppose,
I'm wearing a dead guy's clothes,
who knows where they've been
You're in a poor bleak suburban world,
with no education in a digital world,
social media analytical comments
I don't mind walking 'round this town,
the streets are like a winding river,
cotton candy down Commercial drive,
taffy for the wandering soul,
stocking shelves along the produce aisle,
talking to myself like an old friend,
pilot for the urban pickup truck,
pensioners party in the parking lot,
I don't mind walking 'round this town,
the streets are like a winding river
The river flows on and carries you away,
all of the people on the banks of the river,
soon to be heading downstream,
everything on wheels, the unprepared meals,
pets and flat screen TVs,
mattress and chairs, you better beware,
the river don't care 'bout your things,
the river flows on and carries you away,
the river flows on and washes us way,
you'll never match it, all of your gadgets,
your foundation falls apart,
roofs under water, your sons and your daughters,
everyone goes with the flow,
upper and lower class, everyone sinking fast,
the river don't discriminate,
the river flows on and carries you away,
the river flows on and washes us way
Driving with the windshield covered in oil,
from a big rig truck hauling a heavy load,
coffee by the wheel,
shielded from the road rage along Eginton Avenue
There was beauty in the squalor of a wheelchair sunset,
in the Scarborough parking lot of the Elaine theatre,
laying low in the plaza restaurant with the tenant and his daughter,
low lifes and lawyers sweating out the booze of a better off forgotten late night,
prostitutes and pimps, wheelers and dealers,
shoe shine sailors, gas bar clerks, furriers in suits,
ladies in tights bid you good night, waiting for show time,
doing the Elaine theatre waltz
Turning simple items into fashionable trailer decor
I went to town with a beautiful girl,
we parted ways in confusion,
rented a room near the Salvation Army,
mingled with many addictions,
like lawn getting watered in a drought,
you fall victim to your doubts,
will you make it until midnight,
find an exit, fold your cards,
commercial free, no hidden fees,
thinking 'bout some old friends tonight,
no common ground to grow that family tree,
forced to lay down, surrender to the fallen leaves
Slowing down, you're just slowing down,
all around is moving faster,
do no good if you should complain,
feel like going nowhere,
everyone went somewhere,
blow me down when you come to town,
once again we get to meet as friends,
I can feel the train pass by my window,
this hotel dive makes me feel so alive,
too late to begin,
feel like sleeping in,
settle down when some peace is found,
hold it together in that stormy weather,
you can talk and I don't hear a thing,
you ramble on and on about nothing
In a gazebo feeling blue, 'bout nights forgotten with the crew,
the rust is washed with the dew of dawn,
the pretense of a chain link fence surrounds you,
the gazebo burns in the heart of a cruel world,
some move in reverse in an alternate universe,
where the songbird can't be heard,
where there's no truth in the word,
every twist and turn, there's a lesson to be learned,
before the lights grow dim,
see the shape you're in,
climb out of your box,
prepare for hard knocks,
the jitters that you get,
when you light a cigarette,
in a gazebo feeling blue, 'bout nights forgotten with the crew
Alberta apron stash,
stuck behind a gazebo,
not a lot of cash,
moving nowhere,
penny for your thoughts,
a nickel for your dreams,
those rusty wheels
moving nowhere,
the silver dew of dawn,
on a chain link fence,
the antelope are crazy,
moving nowhere
what have we learned,
repeat your history,
cart before the horse,
moving nowhere,
Alberta apron stash,
buried in the prairies,
under the big open sky,
moving nowhere
Like putty in the drain, this life is affecting your brain, line up for free injections in the rain,
then back on the street again, waiting for your bus, standing room only, no seat for you, you're on your own,
it's a balancing act that only gets real when you fall down,
lay on the ground with a stunned look in your eyes, amusing the horde, regret being on board,
but the voyage continues as you transfer to an old street car, on it's last wheels, you know how that feels,
step lightly to the back, where you might have a nap if you're lucky, and no one sits next to you,
baring false news, hacking up germs, with no uncertain terms, you cover your face, and discover a place,
where the homeless ones roam, the no reflection zone, undisclosed forces, something hidden endorses,
like putty in the drain, this life is affecting your brain
Corner the market and settle the score, alert the editor, you can't take any more,
this town is on strike, no working today, we're marching the streets, so don't get in our way,
it's a journey through limbo, with your head in a cloud, another year ends,
onward through the crowd
