Live on Letterman...
At least once a week I have a very long walk taking care of one chore or another involving the boys. Usually these walks seem to land on the grayest and rainiest days of the week. Wet and cold with too much time to think, I find myself hitting the repeat button on certain songs over and over again. Each walk seems to find its own theme song.
Frank settled down in the Valley,
and he hung his wild years on a
nail that he drove through his
wife's forehead.
He sold used office furniture out
there on San Fernando Road and
assumed a $30,000 loan at
15 1/4 % and put a down payment
on a little two bedroom place.
His wife was a spent piece of used jet trash
Made good bloody-marys, kept her mouth
shut most of the time, had a little Chihuahua
named Carlos that had some kind of skin
disease and was totally blind.
They had a thoroughly modern kitchen;
self-cleaning oven (the whole bit)
Frank drove a little sedan.
They were so happy.
One night Frank was on his way home
from work, stopped at the liquor store,
picked up a couple of Mickey's Big Mouth’s.
Drank 'em in the car on his way to the
Shell station; he got a gallon of gas in a can.
Drove home, doused everything in
the house, torched it.
Parked across the street laughing,
watching it burn, all Halloween
orange and chimney red.
Frank put on a top forty station,
got on the Hollywood Freeway
headed North.
Never could stand that dog.
Playlist on Spotify:
