I’ll leave in the night

Though she’s really done no wrong

Even as we did peak

She likely knew it all along

.

Whatever I seek

Has been none all too plain

And will change will to week

So the life I live seems strange

.

Even when life

Flowed and was fun

Still I would dream of when I’d run

When she’s not prepeared

When at night she lays there

And thinks everything’s right

Yes, I’ll leave in the night

.

But I will sit here today

And I’ll play a lullaby

They are true words I say

And in happiness she’ll cry

.

But far down the way

When I’m no more on her mind

It’s me who’ll feel the real pain

For she’ll think those words were lies

.

Even when life

Flowed and was fun

Still I would dream of when I’d run

When she’s not prepared

When at night she lays there

And thinks everything’s right

Yes, I’ll leave in the night

.

I’ll leave in the night

Though she done me no wrong

Though she done me no slight

But I will leave her with a song

Though she done everything right

I’d rather lies

And maybe some outrage

And be told I’m despised

Or that I’ve wasted my life

Straight from your mouth, babe

.

And prefer what’s cruel

Than nothing from your way

.

Even lies from you

Is better than truth

From anyone else, babe

.

I’d rather disguise

Than the face of another

All hid but eyes

Would more than suffice

To help as I suffer

.

Seldom a sign

But I wait for another

.

I’d rather disguise

All hid but eyes

Than the face of another

.

I’d rather dream

As now I’m inclined to

A world, pristine

Not crude and obscene

As I’ve somehow grown used to

.

Where crudeness seems

Something we trudge through

.

But you inspire in me

Of something more I might dream

Written June 14th Lafayette through Montana and back to Louisiana, August 2022

‘

We’ve travalled for miles

Over mountain and field

‘

Seldom we smile

For it’s still long until

We get to the place

Where for gold we shall till

‘

The wagon wheels creak

The horses do tire

‘

And from puddle do drink

While we’re building our fire

Our spirits to sink

Our wills do expire

‘

For food is low and I doubt we eat tonight

And a man has fallen ill and done gave up the fight

‘

We all say a prayer for this man who lies there

And in the morning take flight

‘

Not one bats an eye while he lays there and dies

Nor feels much contrite

‘

Like buzzards our foes

Are circling our prize

‘

They circle the gold

Our treasure, they eye

The mountains are cold

And there’s much road to ride

‘

Food is low and the bread we have has mold

Our dying man lies still on filthy bedroll

‘

Some say a prayer for the man who lies there

And then away we do go

‘

Then we don’t bat an eye as he lays there and dies

On the side of the road

Written by Larry Penland, Red Bug, and Reece Sullivan

.

Early in the morn’ or late at night

You can her my neighbors as they fuss and fight

Thirty minutes later and they’re making things right

With a whole lot of racket till the mornin’ light

.

A little dairy maid who’’d been milking a cow

And a young ranch hand who’d been working the plow

Wound up in the hay by a jealous sow

They made the horse neigh and a kitty meow

.

Flash a little smile

Play a little game

I’ll make it worth your while

You’ll be glad that you came

Do me something good, and I’ll do you the same

.

Ten toes up and ten toes down

Two little hineys moving round and round

Hiding the bushes or rolling on the ground

Two little hineys moving round and round

.

Out in the creek bed washing her clothes

She stumbles on a man with a fishing pole

A cast and nibble, and what do you know?

Down on the ground and around they go

.

Out in the cornfield with little Miss Tess

Being what she was was a naughty little mess

It didn’t take long and she’s flingin’ off her dress

Out in the cornfield with little Miss Tess

.

Flash a little smile

Play a little game

I’ll make it worth your while

You’ll be glad that you came

Do me something good, and I’ll do you the same

.

Ten toes up and ten toes down

Two little hineys moving round and round

Hiding the bushes or rolling on the ground

Two little hineys moving round and round

I have broken bread

In a place, unseen

Between where one might find the dead

And our hills of green

A place that most would not believe

For no one there grows old

And still, I took my leave

Before my time was told

Many maps I scour

Many visions held

Well into the witching hour

Many sea I sailed

And still that isle I cannot find

Though I was there before

Or was it in my mind?

For I cannot find it's shore