180330
Traffic was not good this Friday
That was a long drive
Goodbye Santa Maria
Hello Buena Park
180330
Traffic was not good this Friday
That was a long drive
Goodbye Santa Maria
Hello Buena Park
180328
Ain’t no lie
Every high
Makes me sigh
Saying bye
Makes me cry
This old guy
Don’t know why
180326
So long stuff
The time has come, today’s the day
I’ve packed my stuff, it’s gone away
This empty house, where once was cheer
Is hollow now, without my gear
As I chill with Brownie and Linc
I think of friends, and raise my drink
To Sweetie Pea, I love you most
The sun sets on the Central Coast
180323
I like to move it move it
If it was crucial I’ve packed it
If it was boxed up I’ve stacked it
If it was empty I’ve filled it
If it was useless I’ve killed it
180321
I’m stuffed from packing
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Like everyone else
I hate packing too
180316
She thoughtfully takes a long while-y
There once was a lass named O’Reilly
Though missing her teeth, she was smiley
With no biting fangs
To gnaw on those wangs
The Sullivan lads praised her highly
180314
I chose warmly
Found a gift card in my pocket
Added shopping to my docket
Wanted to buy some more LEGOs
But instead I got some warm clothes
180312
New fight song?
We all hail from Mayo
And we wear the green and red
We’re on fire
For Sam Maguire
We’ll root until we’re dead
From the boggy plains of Mayo
To the blue Atlantic shore
In every house with thatch
When there’s a football match
The whole county starts to roar!
M! (3 claps)
A! (3 claps)
Y! (3 claps)
O! (3 claps)
M-A-Y-O! #UpMayo
180309
Wiggle butt and wiggle toes
I walk around with Brownie Bear
He likes to shake his derrière
And when he dreams, he wiggles toes
So then I boop him on his nose
180307
Just like an old time movie
Though I find him sweet and sappy
Gordon Lightfoot made Jean happy
Songs of shipwrecks and mind reading
Folk rock roots never receding
My surprise – I never figured
That his music would have triggered
The same songs that brought Jean gladness
Now fill me with utter sadness
180305
Subpoena Sam
There is a Sam under subpoena
Who’s crazier than a hyena
He’s either a drunk
Or Roger Stone’s punk
He needs to flee to Argentina
180302
My blue phase
You and me eternally
That is what was meant to be
Without you, I’m feeling blue
That is all I ever do
“Come on Sean, though I’m gone
You must keep on keeping on!”