Number 7

HIS EYE IS ON THE SPARROW

His eye is on the sparrow
His hand is on the plow
His mind's on Nova Scotia
His ear is on the cow

His nose is on the rosebud
His chin is on his chest
There are more Chins in the phonebook
In Beijing than Bucharest

Where was eye, on the sparrow?
His tongue is on the pole
He's going to rip some skin off
So much for grand control

His thoughts are with the meek ones
His will is with the low
His love, it lasts forever
Or until you have to go

His eye is on the sparrow
His knee is on your throat
His heart is in the highlands
He treats you like his goat.

--Mark Trail

YOU’RE THE SALT

You’re the salt in my coffee.
You’re the thumb in my pie.
You’re the hair in my toffee.
Now, maybe you’ll understand why
When you come around
I head underground.
It’s a feeling I cannot deny!
‘Cause you’re the salt in my coffee;
And you’re the thumb in my pie!

You’re like a weekend in Hades.
You’re like a desert July.
I’d rather swim up the Euphrates.
I think that I’d much rather die
Than spend time with you.
I tell you, we’re through!
I’ll hang you with that awful tie!
‘Cause you’re the salt in my coffee;
And you’re the thumb in my pie!

When we’re together
It’s such heavy weather.
You’re just like a faceful of sleet.
When I see you coming,
I stare and start humming
And hide so we can’t possibly meet.

You’re the salt in my coffee.
You’re the thumb in my pie.
You’re the hair in my toffee.
Now, maybe you’ll understand why
When you’re in the room,
My heart fills with gloom
I’d happily pluck out your eye!
‘Cause you’re the salt in my coffee;
And you’re the thumb in my pie!

--LJC (from a notion by me and Mike Nuttall)



“There was a Christian once. But don’t worry. We caught him and crucified him.”

--Mark Twain (who else?)




THE IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER’S BACK

Now males have a red crest, while females have black
So we know he’s a he- one we’re glad to have back
For it’s been sixty years since an authenticated
Glimpse of this type of pecker’s been credibly stated

Oh where have you been, you Ivory-Bill?
Did you hide in the forest, out beyond the last hill?
Is part of your range the outskirts of Billville?
We’re sure glad you’re around- seeing you’s such a thrill!

He laid low for a long time in the Arkansas wood
And his reasons for doing so are understood
But his rumored extinction? Pure exaggeration-
He’s got lady woodpeckers at three nesting stations!

Oh where have you been, you Ivory-Bill?
Did you hide in the forest, out beyond the last hill?
Is part of your range the outskirts of Billville?
We’re sure glad you're around- seeing you’s such a thrill!

If you’re lucky, you’ll follow to where his call’s led
Note the large, white wing patches and the stripe down his head
With his light-colored, chisel-tipped bill to admire
I’m left with one thought, and that is to inquire-

Oh where have you been, you Ivory-Bill?
Did you hide in the forest, out beyond the last hill?
Is part of your range the outskirts of Billville?
We’re sure glad you're around- seeing you’s such a thrill!

--Mark Trail



“I’m a victim of circumstance.”
--Jerome “Curly” Howard