I''ve been writing and recording songs for over 15 years. I have a few hundred unrecorded songs in styles ranging from R&B/Pop to Country Blues. My musical roots are Dylan, Stevie Wonder, Hank Williams and European downtempo/acid jazz DJs.
I was born in Kansas the son of Okie oilfield trash. I lived in Texas for over 20 years and in many other places since. I miss the road and intend to return there soon. I am a Gemini and enjoy spicy food, French cinema and watersports.
I live by the beach now but spend most of my time indoors making and mixing music.
Once, in Africa, while applying for a gun permit, I was told that I had the face of a very sad man.
My claim to fame is that I have danced with Nancy Griffith, drunk with Lucinda Williams and golfed with Willie Nelson.
Here''s a collage of lyrics:
His mother''s on a pony hit a two by two within my without, nerve switch original eye light from this denial in the groove complex swingin'' up and down. I don''t take an eye for an eye wanna change doctor give ya anything hollow rhythm in my Free Press have to do I plan my escape serving from my masters deaf ear gospel unless high I could scream and cry while my country is at war talk to the water but shapes and watch them force return to dust see a state of mind drive on down to the split second freedom waits.
Up jumps the devil burning all night fragments of electronic bible cool makes the bread today shatter open hands left and right make me your wife into a chrome day dream * Open time for me... and god almighty to drink a toast afraid to scare her away the fire denied on a defense the right definition of the door lost in the evening desperation So far so flag your possessions no more war zone so good so umm...the walls are starting to move act of god, the color of memory then the color of hatred trapped by the heat of the fire to constantly at battle going down man enough without a fight she said Somethin''s in the air giving feelings forget the question always drinking the truth. All the holy books...hit by a truck mailbox of hungry hope smoking gun theory. whisper the names of pictures on the street asked me for a light trains that are leaving said "love is not a bargain..."
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