All The Rage

©Dave Clegg

I’m second in line at the intersection,

The traffic light turns green.

The car ahead just sits there.

I guess it must’ve gone unseen.

I give my horn a gentle tap,

Politely as I could.

And out steps a raving lunatic

With a big ol’ stick of wood.

He banged out some morse code

On my hood with a vicious beat.

The message he relayed to me,

I’d rather not repeat.

Well, I’ve been told this sort of thing

Is happening every day.

Seems to be the latest craze

Across the USA.

It’s all the rage on the road

From Detroit to San Antone.

All the rage up and down

The Boulevard of Broken Bones.

All the rage on the interstates

From sea to shining sea.

Someday soon it’s gonna trigger

All the rage in me.

I’m zippin’ down the highway

Faster than the laws allow.

But the fool behind me thought

That wasn’t fast enough, somehow.

He got up on my bumper,

So, of course, I slowed the pace.

He followed me to where I live

And rearanged my face.

You flash your brights in self-defense

To keep from going blind.

You just assume the other driver

Has a stable mind.

Well, life is one big gamble,

And today, my friend, you loose.

This guy’s a human powder keg

And you just lit the fuse.

It’s all the rage on the road

From Detroit to San Antone.

All the rage up and down

The Boulevard of Broken Bones.

All the rage on the interstates

From sea to shining sea.

Someday soon it’s gonna trigger

All the rage in me.

Don’t suffer through the school

Of hard knocks to learn your lesson.

Get yourself a sign that says,

“PROTECTED BY SMITH AND WESSON”

Roll up all your windows,

Guard yourself against attack.

And never fight the traffic

‘Cause it just might fight you back.

It’s all the rage on the road

From Santa Fe to New Rochelle.

All the rage at the truck stops

On the highway to Hell.

All the rage on the interstates

From sea to shining sea.

Someday soon it’s gonna trigger

All the rage in me.

Yeah, someday soon it’s gonna trigger

(This urge to kill is getting bigger!)

Someday soon it’s gonna trigger

All the rage in me

If I Ever Get Like That

©1996 Dave Clegg

I was ten years old when my big brother

Came home with his first girl.

Acting stranger than a little green man

From an extra-terrestrial world.

With his tongue hangin' out of a big dumb grin

In the middle of his wobblin' head,

And as he mumbled like some old fool

I turned to my buddy and said,

If I ever get like that,

Take a ball peen hammer,

A baseball bat,

Or a two-by-four

And lay me flat.

I'll be ready for the Big Dirt Nap

If I ever get like that.

At seventeen I took my own

True love to the shopping mall.

And there, I witnessed for myself

The strangest sight of all.

A full-grown man just a-carryin' on

About the color of a baby bed!

And as he mumbled like some old fool

I turned to my girl and said,

If I ever get like that,

Take a ball peen hammer,

A baseball bat,

Or a two-by-four

And lay me flat.

I'll be ready for the Big Dirt Nap

If I ever get like that.

At twenty-five, we had a son

And I fought back the tears.

I looked out in the hall and saw

A man on up in years.

Leaning on his walker

With that white fuzz on his head,

And as he mumbled like some old fool

I turned to the baby and said,

If I ever get like that,

Take a ball peen hammer,

A baseball bat,

Or a two-by-four

And lay me flat.

I'll be ready for the Big Dirt Nap

If I ever get like that.

At eighty-nine they put me

In a room at Sunset Towers.

And there, I finished out my life

And in my final hours,

My life flashed before me

And as they pronounced me dead,

I saw myself at ten years old

When I turned to my buddy and said,

If I ever get like that,

Take a ball peen hammer,

A baseball bat,

Or a two-by-four

And lay me flat.

I'll be ready for the Big Dirt Nap

If I ever get like that.

Ghost of the Nekkid Cowboy

©1996 Dave Clegg

They were gathered 'round the campfire

When the Boy Scouts heard the tale,

Of an old cowboy who lost his life

While ridin' on the trail.

He was brandin' cows with a hot iron

When the fateful deed occurred.

A bandit fired six times into

His chest and spooked the heard.

The cattle came stampede'n

They stomped the cowboy stiff.

Then, a rattlesnake bit him

And he stumbled off a cliff.

The avalanche that followed

Dropped a boulder on his head.

Then, a bolt of lightning from the blue

Came down and struck him dead.

Oh cowboy, poor cowboy,

Shot, stomped, poisoned, crushed and fried.

Cowboy, poor cowboy,

Makes me queasy all inside,

The way you died.

Well, they found him with his brandin' iron 

Gripped tightly in his hand.

Ol' Shorty dug a hole

And they returned him to the land.

And all the other cowboys

Though fearless, brave and tough,

Wept tears of awful sorrow

As they divvied up his stuff.

Jimbo took his Stetson,

And Slim, his shirt and vest.

His boots and spurs and trousers,

Was spread amongst the rest.

The drover took his kerchief,

Such a shame to go to waste.

But they left him in his union suit

To show they had good taste.

Oh cowboy, poor cowboy,

Stripped of all your dignities.

Cowboy, nekkid cowboy,

With your trap door flappin' in the breeze

For eternity.

Now, they say that when the moon is full

And sometimes when it's not.

The cowboy comes a-callin'

With is brandin' iron still hot.

And if he finds you sleepin'

Well, he just might brand you, but

He's bound to leave you nekkid

Steal your clothes no matter what.

So, if you go and find yourself

Out in the dark at night,

And through the trees you think you see

That moon shinin' bright,

Before you douse your campfire

You'd better just beware,

That moon ain't starin' back at you

Through the cowboy's underwear.

Oh cowboy, poor cowboy,

Shot, stomped, poisoned, fricasseed.

Cowboy, poor cowboy,

With your trap door flappin' in the breaze

For eternity.

For eternity.

For eternity.

Teachin' My Son To Drive

©2007 Dave Clegg

I got my seat belt buckled and I’m white-knuckled

And my stomach is one big knot.

I’m takin’ this ride on the passenger side

And wishin’ that I was not.

I've got a hunch I’m gonna loose my lunch

Even if I do survive.

I’m tellin’ you, Jack, I hope I make it back

From teachin’ my son to drive.

He’s sittn’ there smilin’ like a crocodile

And I’m strugglin’ to keep my cool.

Yeah, he’s slap-happy while his poor ol’ pappy

Is tryin’ not to pass a stool.

He’s rarin’ and ready and you can bet he

Doesn’t know what fear’s about.

The sound of ignition has me wishin’

I could find some way out of

Teachin’ my son to drive.

Cussin’ and confessin’.

Wonderin’ just who is

Learnin’ the bigger lesson.

So I say, “Let’s go, now keep it nice and slow.”

As he drops her in reverse.

And from the very first turn, he makes sure our journey

Goes from bad to worse.

“Hey, son of mine, did you see that sign?

It said, ‘S.T.O.P.’

And what was that? Ooo! The neighbor’s cat!

And THAT was his new SUV!

Teachin’ my son to drive.

Cussin’ and confessin’.

Wonderin’ just who is

Learnin’ the bigger lesson.

“It’s a low-speed zone, hey give me that phone!

Now, ease off on the gas!”

Well, he’s jumpin’ hills and turnin’ on two wheels

Before skiddin’ to a stop at last.

My heart’s racin’ and I might be facin’

The end of my days on earth.

And as the blinker’s blinkin’, I can’t help thinin’,

“Why did I make my wife give birth?"

Teachin’ my son to drive.

Cussin’ and confessin’.

Wonderin’ just who is

Learnin’ the bigger lesson.

The Big Green Chair

©Dave Clegg

I got a thousand items on my honey-do.

I got all day long to make it all come true.

Long before the break of dawn, I rise and shine.

A little caffein in my veins and I’ll be just fine.

I stumble to the kitchen to pour my brew.

And contemplate my list of honey-do.

I devise my battle plan with lovin’ care.

As I make my way to the big green chair.

I recline and I feel my body sink

Deep into the foam where I can think.

It feels so good, it just ain’t fair.

I could spend all day in the big green chair.

I drain the last drop from my cup of Joe.

Just one minute more, and then I’ll go.

I could finish all my chores with time to spare.

If I could pry myself from the big green chair.

But there's gutters and shutters hangin’ in the breeze.

There's rolls and rolls of Charmin in my trees.

There's weeds and grass up to my derriere.

Which is firmly planted in the big green chair.

It’s an age-old dilemma and a downright dirt shame.

You can’t sit on the sidelines, and still be in the game.

I surf through the channels one more time.

These Saturday morning shows ain’t worth a dime.

You’d think I’d just move on, but oh contrair,

I’m watching QVC in the big green chair.

I rose this morning when the day was new.

I’m still in the big green chair and it’s half-past two.

Like some poor, pathetic critter in a snare,

I’m a helpless hostage in the big green chair.

Sooner or later, nature calls my name.

But the big green chair is doing just the same.

So, I sit cross-legged long as I can bare,

Until I float right out of the big green chair.

Yes, I know I’m a worthless bum in my current state,

But there’s something about that big green chair,

That makes me vegetate.

I’m not one who’s given to superstition.

But the big green chair got a hex on my ambition.

If this keeps up, one of these days I swear,

I’m gonna build a bonfire with the big green chair.

I should know by now, I ain’t got a prayer,

When I start my day sittin’ in the big green chair.

Yeah, I just spent all day in the big green chair

You're Stupid

© 2008 Dave Clegg

Imparting my wisdom on current affairs

At the Cul-de-sac Spring Barbeque,

My know-it-all neighbor suggested my facts

Were in need of some further review.

I squinted my eyes as I rubbed on my chin,

To contemplate my point of view.

Well, I checked it over and, lo and behold,

It confirmed what I already knew.

And if you disagree, you're stupid.

Your knuckles drag and you drool.

There's rocks in your head,

You still wet the bed,

You're mama's ugly and she raised a fool.

I've built my fortress with iron-clad proof.

There's no sense in challenging me.

And you're taking shots at my bullet-proof walls

With your pea-shooter philoso-phy.

Your dislike of reasoning has me perplexed.

You're either obtuse or naive.

How can you stand there and hear what I say,

And not change the way you believe?

And if you disagree, you're stupid.

Your knuckles drag and you drool.

There's rocks in your head,

You still wet the bed,

You're mama's ugly and she raised a fool.

Now, I've done my homework and I've been around.

And I know what's noble and true.

Just 'cause you talk like some Magna Cum Loudmouth,

Why should I listen to you?

If you think I'll switch horses smack-dab in the stream,

Well, partner, don't hold your breath.

'Cause I love this pony and I'll make him swim,

If I have to beat him to death.

And if you disagree, you're stupid.

Your knuckles drag and you drool.

There's rocks in your head,

You still wet the bed,

You're mama's ugly and she raised a fool.

Grandpa's Words of Wisdom

©2008 Dave Clegg

When I was young, my Grandpa sat beside me.

Said, “Boy, I wanna give you some advice.

You see, through the years, I’ve learned some painful lessons.

A couple of them, more than once or twice.

Now, you may choose to learn these things the hard way,

But son, I’m beggin’ you, for goodness sakes,

Please listen to Grandpa’s words of wisdom,

So you won’t have to make the same mistakes.

He lowered his gray head,

And through his tears he said,

Don’t crank the chain saw ‘til you’re sober.

Never poke a pit bull in the eye.

Never milk a cow with just one spigot.

And if you can’t beat the train, don’t even try.

Climb down off the horse before you brand it.

Never ride a bike without a seat.

If you buy food to take to next months picnic,

You really should refrigerate the meat.

Don’t go huntin’ bears without your bullets.

Don't hang glide off a busy freeway bridge.

NEVER say your wife don’t look good nekkid.

And don’t play hide-and-seek inside the fridge.

Never set the gas can by the fireplace.

If you don’t know cars, don’t fix your own brakes.

When your at the Reptile Farm in Florida,

Don’t show off by kissin’ rattle snakes.

Don’t fly upside down in a biplane,

Unless you’re buckled in there good and tight.

If you’re ice fishin’ up in Minnesota,

It’s prob’ly best you don’t use dynamite.

Always measure down before you bungee.

And never use a home-made parachute.

If your head gets stuck in the barrel of a cannon,

It’s better to yell ”shucks” than “shoot”.

Never put a toaster in the bathtub

Just because the water heater’s broke.

Don’t perform the Heimlich on a gangster’s wife.

Just keep to yourself and let her choke.

When you have a hankerin’ for honey,

Get it from the store, not from the hive.

If you wear women’s clothes into a biker bar,

There ain’t much chance you’ll make it out alive.

Well, I’d like to say I listened to my Grandpa,

But I was just a knuckle-headed kid.

It’s a wonder I survived past twenty,

‘Cause I've done every single think he did.