Vietnam - Don't Even Turn The Car Off

This Old Clotheshorse likes the sweater, the turned up sleeves, the tall neck. Oh yeah the flowers in the gun barrels too. So I am wondering about the hipster in question and turn to The Keeper of the Graveyard since I know he knows these things.

Turns out the hipster is none other than Joel Tournabene.

"So who's Joel Tournabene, Tom?"

"He's in the concrete biz. Mob guy. He was the grandson of Sam Giancana from Chicago. He did some yard work for me, and I hung out with him most of the time. He died in Mexico about five years ago. He was a good friend of [producer/composer] Hal Wilner, and he was a good guy. He had an errant--I don't know how to put this--he used to go around, and when he saw something he liked in somebody's yard, he would go back that night with a shovel, dig it up and plant it in your yard. We used to get a kick out of that. So I stopped saying, 'I really like that rosebush, I really like that banana tree, I really like that palm.' Because I knew what it meant. He came over once with twelve chickens as a gift. My wife said, 'Joel, don't even turn the car off. Turn that car around and take those chickens back where you found them.' He was a good friend, one of the wildest guys I've ever known."

"How's It Gonna End?"

"...Drag your wagon and your plow

Over the bones of the dead

Out among the roses and the weeds

You can never go back

And the answer is no

And wishing for it only

Makes it bleed

Joel Tornabene was broken

On the wheel..."

Christmas Card

hey Charley I'm pregnant
and living on 9-th street
right above a dirty bookstore
off cuclid avenue
and I stopped taking dope
and I quit drinking whiskey
and my old man plays the trombone
and works out at the track.
and he says that he loves me
even though its not his baby
and he says that he'll raise him up
like he would his own son
and he gave me a ring
that was worn by his mother
and he takes me out dancin
every saturday nite.
and hey Charley I think about you
everytime I pass a fillin' station
on account of all the grease
you used to wear in your hair
and I still have that record
of little anthony & the imperials
but someone stole my record player
how do you like that?
hey Charley I almost went crazy
after mario got busted
so I went back to omaha to
live with my folks
but everyone I used to know
was either dead or in prison
so I came back in minneapolis
this time I think I'm gonna stay.
hey Charley I think I'm happy
for the first time since my accident
and I wish I had all the money
that we used to spend on dope
I'd buy me a used car lot
and I wouldn't sell any of em
I'd just drive a different car
every day dependin on how I feel.
hey Charleyfor chrissakes
do you want to know
the truth of it?I don't have a husband
he don't play the trombone
and I need to borrow money
to pay this lawyer
and Charley, heyI'll be eligible for parole
come valentines day.

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Knocky Parker told Bowlegged Sal They all know how to kick it in Cal They're playing this dope and this-a money tune Dancing baby with a 7 mile broom Things are bulging out the rafters like hell Down there at the Hush Hotel They’re jumping right out of their seats, dancing to the bran’ new beat Do……the Metropolitan Glide Do……the Metropolitan Glide

Everything You Can Think Of Is True

everything you can think of is true
before the ocean was blue
you were lost in a flood
run red with your blood's nigerian skeleton crew
everything you can think of is true
the dish ran away with the spoon
dig deep in your heart for that little red glow
we're decomposing as we go
everything you can think of is true
and fishes make wishes on you
we're fighting our way up dreamland's spine
with black flamingos, expensive wine
everything you can think of is true
the baby's asleep in your shoe
your teeth are buildings with yellow doors
your eyes are fish on a creamy shore

New Coat of Paint

New Coat of Paint

Let's put a new coat of paint
On this lonesome old town
Set em' up, we'll be knockin' 'em down
You wear a dress
Baby I'll a tie
We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon
In that burgundy sky

All our scribbled love dreams are lost or thrown away
Here amidst the shuffle of an overflowin' day
Our love needs a transfusion let's shoot it full of wine
Fishin' for a good time starts with throwin' in your line.

So let's put a new coat of paint
On this lonesome old town
Set em' up, set em' up we'll be knockin' 'em down
You wear a dress baby
I'll wear a tie
We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon
In that burgundy sky