Last Thoughts of Woody Guthrie
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When your head gets twisted and your mind goes numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart, or too dumb
When you're laggin' behind and losin' your pace
In the slow motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what you're doin', if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of your cup
If the wind's got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slippin' and the feelin' is gone
And your train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin', but you're lazy to fetch it
And your sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know it's wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from your pony are slippin'
And your ropers are slidin' but your hands are a-drippin'
And your sun decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash can alleys
And your sky cries water and your drainpipes are pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashin' and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin'
And the rooftops are shakin', and your
Whole world's a-slappin' and bangin'
And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?"
You start gettin' chills and you're jumpin' from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And you're knee deep in the dark water with your hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window-peak stare
And your good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flyin'
And your heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And your jackhammer falls from your hand to your feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And your bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think your ears mighta been hurt
Or your eyes have turned filthy from the sight blindin' dirt
And you figured you felt in yesterday's rush
When you were faked out of food while facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin' you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of LIFE magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's somethin' on your mind you wanna be sayin'
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on your tongue and sealed in your head
And it bothers you badly when you're layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And you're scared to your soul you just might forget it
And your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head
And your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and you're starin' at his teeth
And his jaws start closin' with you underneath
And you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself "Just what am I doin'?
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hangin', on this pathway I'm strollin'
In the space I'm takin', in this air I'm inhalin'?
Am I mixed up too much? Am I mixed up too hard?
Why am I walkin'? Where am I runnin'?
What am I sayin'? What am I knowin'?
On this guitar I'm playin', on this banjo I'm framin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words that I'm thinkin', in this
Ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helpin'? What am I breakin'?
What am I givin'? What am I takin'?"
But you try with your whole soul best never to think these thoughts
And never to let them kind of thoughts
Gain ground or make your heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waitin' for a chance to slip and drop down
For sometimes you hear 'em when the night comes creepin'
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleepin'
And you jump from your bed from your last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of your thinkin'
That was you in the dream that was screamin'
And you know that it's somethin' special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleedin'
And you need somethin' special
Yeah, you need somethin' special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a steam engine howlin'
That's been bangin' and boomin' and blowin' forever
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at your looks, your voice, or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' along after the bubble gum crate
You need somethin' to open up a new door
To show you somethin' you've seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need somethin' to open your eyes
You need somethin' to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that you're standin' on, that space that you're sittin'
That the world ain't got you beat, that it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many times you might get kicked
You need somethin' special all right
You need somethin' special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angle curve
But that's what you need, man, and you need it bad
And your trouble is you know it too good
'Cause you look and you start gettin' the chills
'Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's windowsill
And it ain't on no rich kid's roadmap
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dim-lit stage with that half-wit comedian on it
Rantin' and ravin' and takin' your money
And you think it's funny?
No, you can't find it in no nightclub or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And you sure as hell you're bound to
Tell that no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on your ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people are tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard box house
Down any movie star's louse
No, and it ain't in the rumors people are tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard box house
Down any movie star's louseIt ain't in
The dime-store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' and Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' "Ain't I pretty?" and "Ain't I cute?"
And "Look at my skin, look at my skin shine
Look at my skin glow, look at my skin laugh
Look at my skin cry," when you can't
Even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No, you're not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out of paper mache
And inside are the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who turn you in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again, but this time behind your back, my friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sandbox world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant and make all rules
For the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon just for a while
'Cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of money and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down your hat, sayin'
"Christ! Do I gotta be like that?
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at?
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel?
Good God almighty, that stuff ain't real"
No, but that ain't your game, it ain't even your race
You can't hear your name, you can't see your face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that you're seekin'?
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'?
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'?
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'?
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere?
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist and turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You'll find God in the church of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it's only my opinion, I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both in the Grand Canyon at sundown