–for Crazy Horse, the band, and the boys
boom, boom, baby
boom, boom
baby boom, out go the lights
’cause tonight’s the night
your rollin’ the apple
your stirrin’ the pot
sha-boom, boom-boom
give us all you got
this one goes out to all of you
old yeah-yeah gray-hairs
who grew up in rock and roll
wanted to go to that mansion
up the hill or across the tracks
to austin’s practice shed
off the back wall of his garage
to hang out in the sound
to sing along
to be found with the band
hanging on
to that back beat, ride
the slide, the bottleneck
the wah-wah bar, dig on that
fray-cornered music man amp
your foxy dark side of
the stairway to fire
that groovy vox-ified
paranoid garage band
and roll, roll on, roll into
another one, smokin’ deep
purple traffic on the water
pipe, done . . . cough
done, done, done . . . done-done, d-done
roll another one, ride
your creamy satanic majesty
a three chord cranial lift
to the arena of pounding drums
where all you needed was love
and thumping bass notes thumbed
to dance and fly around
the fire chasing sparks chasing
stars beyond tree shadow
silhouettes, feet stomping, hands
clapping, the sticks and guitar
picks pulling you along
into sound forming words
that lose their meaning
to gain their heart, this part
that starts in the vibe
in the groove that wants to go
and go, roll on and on
keep rockin’ the snow
off that old garage
and roll your boom-boom
baby into a song
that will never be played
the same way again in bleeding
raw fingered stumble and sting
a squealing pig on ice
bah-duh-boom
bah-duh-bing
bing, bing, bing,
sweet brown-eyed girls
light those things, those big
cigars, panatellas, pass that sweet
cherry wine, let your hair down
smell her collar and neck
lick that salty sweat and nose
that musk-oily scent, her
hairy fairy-moans, the zeppelin burns
inside that two-story shack
you called the peter-eater
son, you were ruined for good
like many a dope-boy
driven mad and hard as
rock and roll, it was that first
best place always and forever
till a few years later when
you found yourself
singing those obscure verses
of amazing grace
at funerals for the ones
damaged and done
by too much silly-assed unending fun
so you amped up on the teary blues
got down on the slow notes
in the beat dirge of mourn
before you picked it up
again and sang it, wang it
flang it high past the sun
boogie fly celebrations
skin climbing to air
closed your eyes to soar
rode the draft back down
blew the doors off your dream
that flow of electric tones
and crackling voices that scrape
the throat glottal, the show
a gravelly, noise-filled
broken blind hole, the void
existing outside beyond
the flames, inside, closer to
the source, the bass line
in bone cage, the one
everyone can play, then
add a creepy-crawling guitar
haunt it up, rev it wild
you can’t fuck this up
make it run, make it slide
prance and scream
then glide through the night
stars winking like lit cigarette tips
when you light the fuse
watch it quietly sparkle-glow
then hit that number
to erupt in meteor tails
hendrix’s trails, blue stars
on tattered red stripes
grandiose explosions, machine gun
riffs searching for more sky
what they do not know and cannot
find, find you swirling, head banging
in the strobe’s flash, kissed
by the vision of drum sticks
hatcheting the dark
experience, that effort
to slash and play
what we know not, who we are
is what we say and all
we want to be
is to be here with the band
forever on stage
rocking in the back or rolling
in the front of the shed
maybe on the floor with her
screaming for more of
the apple of dischord
your hometown garage band
wired crazy as the horse
with no name, homegrown
high in the rockin’
mountains of the west
plugged in
