Live At Cueball Moon

[Steve Wilcox]

removed

[Sideways]

(a song about a shady nightclub)

LiVE AT CUEBALL MOON

the cueball moon ain’t just a room - come ten o’clock at night
the place fills up with lonesome heroes, vagrants on a midnight plight
pirates, poets, prophets, pilgrims - gypsies everywhere
airport Krishna’s in the corner combing out their Hare
then the spirits all start spilling, some loser yells, 'a tune!'
the band is tight, it feels so right
live at Cueball Moon

now the bouncer, he’s a Buddhist, he’s never learned to fight
and the waitress is just so damned good she could have been a housewife
the barkeep is a pirate, her treasure was her love
many've walked her gang plank, though a few she’s had to shove
but no one moves a muscle - the neon sign’s in ruin
no one thinks to leave the place they call -
Cueball Moon

there's a stripper doing yoga, it's "virab-had-ra-sana"
barflies seek samadhi in her halls of Shambala
and this hobo on piano, all 10 fingers whiskey logged
the crowd can see me drooling right through the cigarette-smoke-fog
the owner’s looking happy - there's only room to stand
tonight it's like a Zen convention - they're clapping with one hand
the piano, it's a beauty, just half the strings in tune
but no one's listenin' anyhow -
no, not at Cueball Moon

Maybe this is how a teenage Tom Waits would have written, got the ideas but not quite there. It's not bad and there are one or two nice lines, the Krishna "hare" is clever, and the "housewife" ditto. OTH a few clicheed images around (clapping with one hand, lonesome heroes) and the rhythm is mostly la-di-da when it deserves better, irregular maybe jagged for this nightclub.

thanks for sharing, it has certainly relieved some of my boredom from ironing (8 shirts, 7 socks, one cassock)


Geoffrey (licking the spillage from his pillage in the alley of my valley)