Afternoon at Walmart

Afternoon at Walmart

Walk in. Look around.
Head spins to muzak sound.
Cruise the aisles in a buggy race
Big smile breaks across my face
It’s like a dream,
I could almost scream
This place is slicker than vaseline

It’s an afternoon at Walmart
Be still my beating heart
Fill a buggy but still won’t pay a whole lot
Gonna buy it whether I need it or not
It’s an afternoon at Walmart
Anywhere’s a good place to start
’til we move single file
through the checkout aisle
Then load it all up in the car

Auto Parts… settle down!
It’s a car geek’s hunting ground.
Lots of toys so the kids can play
We can leave ’em in there all day
I’m telling you
It’s a dream come true
If I see Sam Walton I’ll say “Thank You”

car parts, jewelry, clothes, and shoes,
a garden center and groceries, too!

copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris

A Pirate’s Song

(to the tune of The Happy Wanderer)

I love to go a plundering
Among some rich man’s stash
And as I go I pirate all
His jewelry and cash
Val-der-ee, Val-der-ah
Val-der-ah, Val-der-ah ha ha ha ha ha
Val-der-ee, Val-der-ah
His jewelry and cash

I love to stand upon the deck
And sail upon the sea
And as I go I yo ho ho
A pirate’s life for me

Val-der-ee, Val-der-ah
Val-der-ah, Val-der-ah ha ha ha ha ha
Val-der-ee, Val-der-ah
A pirate’s life for me

When Blackbeard Comes to Town

When Blackbeard comes to town
We hide our wives and daughters
We break out rum and ale
And drink it down like water
When Blackbeard comes to town
He demands the best, so
Don’t be disinclined to
Acquiesce to his request

When Blackbeard comes to town
Go tell your friends and neighbors
His pirates roam around, but
They’re on their best behavior
When Blackbeard comes to town
The tavern throws a party
So lift those goblets high and
Drink some rum and ale, me hearties

Up The Creek

I packed a bag for my life’s journey
Pushed my boat into the creek
I paddled out to meet the current
And that was when I saw the leak

I’m up the creek without a paddle
I’m just going with the flow
All my protesting doesn’t matter
I have to trust this leaky boat

I started bailing out the water
I was worried I might sink
That’s when I lost my only paddle
What else was there for me to think?


So I’m just drifting in the current
I vainly cry out helplessly
I have to hope that someone hears it
And comes in time to rescue me

Copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris

The Corner of Tobacco and Whiskey Road

Billy Brody been around a time or two
Started many fights but those days are through
Now he strums guitar and sings songs of woe
On the corner of Tobacco and Whiskey Road

Melba was a woman who could hold her own
Spent some time in prison several years ago
Skin as tough as leather; heart cold as ice
Now she walks the street at night peddling vice

Lives are flung loose and hearts collide
Chaos fuels this wild existential ride
Fateful intersections of star-crossed souls
At the corner of Tobacco and Whiskey Road
The Corner of Tobacco and Whiskey Road

Fate wore an evil smile one Saturday Night
Air was hot and damp; the moon full and bright
Billy sat drinking while he played guitar
When around the corner came a speeding car

A man hung out the window; bullets sliced the air
Billy dropped his drink and fell out of his chair
Never once had Billy ever prayed to God
Until that night laying in a pool of blood


Melba turned the corner; saw Billy there
She ran to him; held him close; stroked his hair
Never once in all her life had Melba cried
Until the night in her arms Billy Brody died


Now Melba walks the night streets all alone
At the corner of Tobacco and Whiskey Road

Copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris

This Place

The men shuffle in as the day loses light
They sign on the line for a bed for the night
They’ve lost everything except their dignity
And they’re no longer too proud for charity

This place radiates with something pure
This place has a peace that endures
Though the people here live broken lives
You get the feeling that hope survives
In this place

No one here would choose the life they live today
But somehow they find themselves in it anyway
They just need a hand to help them carry on
And sometimes a shoulder they can lean on


This place serves the homeless, rejected, and poor
These walls give protection from harm
The people who come here are battered and worn
This place is a shelter from the storm


copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris

This is My Midlife Crisis


Been walking several miles a day
And working out with weights
Been tracking my cholesteral
I hope I’m not too late
My fancy new sunglasses
Make me look like a movie star
And I started classes yesterday
To learn to play guitar

This is my midlife crisis
Let me just enjoy it, please
I’ve survived so far
Without your psychotherapies
I know you mean well
With your advice and homilies
But, this is my midlife crisis
Can’t I just enjoy it, please?

I’m scouting out convertibles
Down at the auto lot
Been checking out old ladies
To replace the one I’ve got
I think I’ll let my hair grow long
And maybe sport a beard
Next week I might just quit my job
And then disappear


There’s lots of things I’d like to do
Sometime before I die
I haven’t lived the life I planned to
Once upon a time
And maybe if I buckle down
I still could scale the heights
But reaching my potential
Sure cuts into leisure time


copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris

There May Be a Time

There may be a time you look in a mirror
You see a face there, but you don’t know who it is
Strange fact: you’ve become a stranger
You’ve become a danger to everyone you love

There may be a time you’re acting friendly
But you’re not comprehending; you think you might explode
You’re scary to horses, dogs, and babies
Got you thinking maybe there’s a beast inside your head

Psychoneurosis; Misdiagnosis
Try some hypnosis to disengage your head
Social psychosis packed in daily doses
A rosy-red prognosis will assuage your dread

There may be a time been doin’ lots of thinking
But you keep on drinking to make it go away
Strange fact: Anonymous Alcoholic
Whatever you want to call it – you’re living a life of pain

There may be a time you’re right for changing
Might be rearranging the way you spend your days
You’re thinking you may well be dieing
You won’t be denying you want it to go away


copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris

There Ain’t No Words to This Song

There ain’t no words to this song
I just make it up as I go along
I say whatever comes to mind
And if I’m lucky sometimes it even rhymes
I don’t really know if it’s right or wrong
But there ain’t no words to this song

Well, I wanted to write a new song
So I’d have a new song to sing
But I couldn’t think of anything to say
So I didn’t say anything
And this is my song
But it doesn’t have any words

[rap this part]
You might think it’s coincidence
That this song has no instruments
Well, a song without words is an instrumental
And the way it worked out was accidental
If there ain’t no words or instruments
Then I guess it’s a little bit of… silence
I can just keep going on and on
Tellin’ you about this stupid song
This song I wrote to have a song to sing
But it’s a song without words or anything
So instead of making it even worse
I’ll just repeat the opening verse…

[repeat verse]
[repeat chorus]

copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris

The Days Before You Left

Ice melts in a glass with two fingers of scotch
While water rings stain the wood tabletop
I stare past the TV; push the mute button down
Talking heads with moving mouths that don’t make a sound

You’re the star of the movie playing in my head
Scotch-fed memories of the days before you left
Skinny-dipping at the lake moonlight glistening off your skin
Lauging and teasing, trying to coax me to come in

The days before you left were the days I was alive
Consumed by the love inspiring fire in your eyes
Now gray has settled over my day like morning dew
And the days before you left are all I have left of you

If only I’d known how little time we were due
I think I’d have spent every minute with you
But time has a way of slipping into the past
Like the ice that keeps melting away in my glass

It’s funny how much time we can waste in a day
Never thinking how fast it can all slip away
And just like the river that flows to the sea
The days before you left are swallowed up in memory

Copyright 2007 Donald Paul Harris