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Dawg​-​Gone

from Inhuman Resources by Tom Kingsley

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about

Post-divorce mixed feelings about being abandoned like a dog and about new found adventure and freedom. The journey out of desperation, literally crossing a desert and a mountain range to get home.

lyrics

Dawg Gone
He's thawing in the ashes made from verses of his past
and he knows there's little comfort as the embers will not last.
So, he carries on regardless of the tempus fugit-ting
with a sightless search for wisdom and a senseless hope of Spring.
He took a tumbril to the lawcourt for the chica who played scared,
paid the taxman and the axeman, who'd insisted no-one cared.
He thought she hadn’t cheated him, that she’d been good as gold,
‘til the lawyer said the Last Rites as his life was bought and sold.

Gid along little dawggie, gid along.
Don’t look back behind you, your alone.
Ride on through the desert,
across the mountains and you’re home,
Gid along little dawggie, gid along.

He'd been malleable and ductile, like Bazooka Joe in June,
He’d tried to fight the good fight but she’d always come too soon.
He'd impressed her with linguistics ‘til the girl just had to crash,
but his mouth had written cheques that his libido couldn't cash.
He chose exile, not contrition, took the bull by both the horns
as he rode into the sunset in his Stetson made of thorns.
Even then he tried to follow down the path to righteousness,
as he stumbled thru a desert where they couldn't love him less.

Now he sets it all to music made for dancing round a pole,
and invests in pharmaceuticals - Viagra for the soul.
His vision maybe blurred at times by tears, or by rain,
on his cider-tinted spectacles of existential pain.
In his moments of reflection when the glitter-pills abate,
life's not a bitter ballad with no bridge nor middle-eight.
It's a symphony of choices where the darkness holds the light,
and that light informs the voices, telling him he'll be alright.

credits

from Inhuman Resources, released September 5, 2022
Tom Kingsley - vox, Paul Battenbough - piano & BV; Andy Fung - drums & BV; Mat Wigley - harmonica, sticks & BV; Frank Naughton - guitar & keyboards

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Tom Kingsley Newport, UK

Tom Kingsley (aka Brian Phillips) has been a poet for 50yrs and thinks he might just be getting the hang of it. Always trying to look at life, even the grotesques and gargoyles of the world, with humour, he hopes to bring about regime change, revolution, and the salvation of nature by scribbling a few words and then singing or reciting them into that new fangled gramaphone contraption. Iechyd da. ... more

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