Clay Pigeons

Sitting here listening to John Prine on iTunes. If you’ve never listened to John Prine, I highly recommend you do. One of the all time great song writers, in my humble opinion. And it looks like I may get to see him for the third time in concert in October. A friend of mine was given two tickets, and I was lucky enough to be invited as her guest. If you know me, that should tell you at least a little of what a fan I am of his. There has been no other singer/band that I can recall having seen more than twice in concert; not including some local bands, of course. His songs range from the insightful, thought provoking, and sometimes sad to the entertaining and quite humorous.


Music has a way of touching the soul that few art forms can really do - again, just my two cents worth. Some music makes you want to dance, some music makes you want to sing along, and some music just makes you want to stop and think for awhile or reminisce on fond memories. How ironic, as I sit here typing this, “Long Monday” comes up. It certainly has been. People are just damn strange sometimes. And I mean, damn strange. I hate to sound like some really old person talking about the new generation - Ha!!! - but, sometimes I just have to shake my head and wonder. I’m sure that’s what the almost 40 somethings probably said about me at one time.


Some days you just don’t have the words. But never fear, somebody out there does. And tonight, it’s Mr. Prine. So the best thing I can do for y’all is leave you with the words from the song that happens to be playing right now. And most appropriately, I might add. Couldn’t have said it better myself.


"Clay Pigeons"


I'm goin' down to the Greyhound Station, gonna get a ticket to ride
Gonna find that lady with two or three kids and sit down by her side
Ride 'til the sun comes up and down around me 'bout two or three times
Smokin' cigarettes in the last seat
Tryin' to hide my sorrow from the people I meet

And get along with it all
Go down where the people say "y'all"
Sing a song with a friend
Change the shape that I'm in,
And get back in the game,
And start playin' again

I'd like to stay but I might have to go to start over again
Might go back down to Texas, might go to somewhere that I've never been
And get up in the mornin' and go out at night
And I won't have to go home
Get used to bein' alone
Change the words to this song
Start singin' again

I'm tired of runnin' 'round lookin' for answers to questions that I already know
I could build me a castle of memories just to have somewhere to go
Count the days and the nights that it takes to get back in the saddle again
Feed the pigeons some clay
Turn the night into day
Start talkin' again, when I know what to say

I'm goin' down to the Greyhound Station, gonna get a ticket to ride
Gonna find that lady with two or three kids and sit down by her side
Ride 'til the sun comes up and down around me 'bout two or three times
Smokin' cigarettes in the last seat
Tryin' to hide my sorrow from the people I meet
And get along with it all

Go down where the people say "y'all"
Feed the pigeons some clay
Turn the night into day
Start talkin' again
When I know what to say