RODRIGUEZ, Sixto


I wonder

I wonder how many times you've been had

And I wonder how many plans have gone bad

I wonder how many times you had sex

I wonder do you know who'll be next

I wonder l wonder wonder I do

I wonder about the love you can't find

And I wonder about the loneliness that's mine

I wonder how much going have you got

And I wonder about your friends that are not

I wonder I wonder I wonder I do

I wonder about the tears in children's eyes

And I wonder about the soldier that dies

I wonder will this hatred ever end

I wonder and worry my friend

I wonder I wonder wonder don't you?

I wonder how many times you been had

And I wonder how many dreams have gone bad

I wonder how many times you've had sex

And I wonder do you care who'll be next

I wonder I wonder wonder I do


Sugar Man

Sugar man, won't you hurry

Cause I'm tired of these scenes

For a blue coin won't you bring back

All those colors to my dreams

Silver magic ships you carry

Jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane

Sugar man met a false friend

On a lonely dusty road

Lost my heart when I found it

It had turned to dead black coal

Silver magic ships you carry

Jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane

Sugar man you're the answer

That makes my questions disappear

Sugar man cause I'm weary

Of those double games l hear

.....


Crucify your mind

Was it a huntsman or a player

That made you pay the cost

That now assumes relaxed positions

And prostitutes your loss?

Were you tortured by your own thirst

In those pleasures that you seek

That made you Tom the curious

That makes you James the weak?

And you claim you got something going

Something you call unique

But I've seen your self-pity showing

As the tears rolled down your cheeks

Soon you know I'll leave you

And I'll never look behind

'Cause I was born for the purpose

That crucifies your mind

So con-convince your mirror

As you've always done before

Giving substance to shadows

Giving substance ever more

And you assume you got something to offer

Secrets shiny and new

But how much of you is repetition

That you didn't whisper to him too?


Jane S. Piddy

Now you sit there thinking feeling insecure

The mocking court gesture claims there is no proven cure

Go back to your chamber, your eyes upon the wall

'Cos you got no one to listen, you got no one to call

And you think I'm curious

Drifting, drowning in a purple sea of doubt

You wanna hear she loves you

but the words don't fit the mouth

You're a loser, a rebel, a cause without

But don't think me callous

Dancing Rosemary, disappearing sister Ruth

It's just your yellow appetite

that has you choking on the truth

You gave in, you gave out, outlived your dreams of youth

And I can't get jealous

So go on, you'll continue with your nose so open wide

Knocking on that door that says "Hurry come inside"

But don't bother to buy insurance 'cos you've already died

And you can't be serious

I saw my reflection in my father's final tears

The wind was slowly melting, San Francisco disappears

Acid heads, unmade beds, and you Woodward world queers

I know you're lonely

I know you're lonely

I know you're lonely...

A Most Disgusting Song

I've played every kind of gig there is to play now

I've played faggot bars, hooker bars, motorcycle funerals

In opera houses, concert halls, halfway houses

Well I found that in all these places that I've played

All the people that I've played for are the same people

So if you'll listen, maybe you'll see someone you know in this song

A most disgusting song

The local diddy bop pimp comes in

Acting limp he sits down with a grin

Next to a girl that has never been chased

The bartender wipes a smile off his face

The delegates cross the floor

Curtsy and promenade through the doors

And slowly the evening begins

And there's Jimmy "Bad Luck" Butts

Who's just crazy about them East Lafayette weekend sluts

Talking is the lawyer in crumpled up shirt

And everyone's drinking the detergents

That cannot remove their hurts

While the Mafia provides your drugs

Your government will provide the shrugs

And your national guard will supply the slugs

So they sit all satisfied

And there's old playboy Ralph

Who's always been shorter than himself

And there's a man with his chin in his hand

Who knows more than he'll ever understand

Yeah, every night it's the same old thing

Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny

At the Inn-Between, again

And there's the bearded schoolboy with the wooden eyes

Who at every scented skirt whispers up and sighs

And there's a teacher that will kiss you in French

Who could never give love, could only fearfully clench

Yeah, people every night it's the same old thing

Getting pacified, ossified, affectionate at Mr. Flood's party, again

And there's the militant with his store-bought soul

There's someone here who's almost a virgin I've been told

And there's Linda glass-made who speaks of the past

Who genuflects, salutes, signs the cross and stands at half-mast

Yeah, They're all here, the Tiny Tims and the Uncle Toms

Redheads, brunettes, brunettes, and the dyed haired blondes

Who talk to dogs, chase broads and have hopes of being mobbed

Who mislay their dreams and later claim that they were robbed

And every night it's going to be the same old thing

Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny

Lost, even, at Martha's Vineyard, again