Robert Cory

Readin’ Between the Lines

Single White Female. I got a crush on you. Think I’ll write.
Will you answer me true? Can I believe everything you said?
Your ad says yer good looking. I ain’t. I’d say I’m average.
That’s it. Ask any mirror. I’m your average Joe.
Would you drink whiskey with me? I wonder. Should I ask?

Little Miss Anonymous would you share my pain?
Are you lonely all the time?
Does this here letter sound like a Harvest Moon pine?
I was never very good at reading between the lines.

D’you like munching on popcorn while watching TV?
Says here you like to have fun. That makes two of us.
I like movies just like you. Maybe we’re a match.
Maybe made in heaven. A man can dream, can’t he?
Would you send me a photo? Sorry. I’m not photogenetic.

Little Miss Outside will you share my pain?
Are you alone all the time?
Are you tellin’ me straight?
I never did well at reading between them lines.

Glad I found you in the personals, not a men’s room wall.
I called that number once. You don’t want to know.
I used to be a pretty good dancer. I’ve cut a rug or two.
I got the 23rd Psalm tattooed on my chest.
Hope you can read my handwriting. I dropped out of school.

Hey! You out there, Miss P.O. Box number
Are you lonely all the time?
Will you share my pain?
Just being honest with ya. Now you know my name.

Back home I got me one heck of a knife collection
You might like to see. I don’t know. Maybe wait on that.
Maybe not on the first time we meet ...after I’m let free.
Got two years ...then 5 more days before I flatten my time.
Would you wait for me? Is that askin’ too much?

Where might you be from? I mean originally.
They got visitin’ hours here.
If you’re lonely all the time. I wonder,
Are you better than me at reading between the lines?

Rock My Boat

C’mon now.
It’s party time on board this ship.
Rock my boat. C’mon an’ rock it.
I said rock it, honey.
Float my boat. I said rock, rock...
Rock my boat. Do it.
Rock my boat.
Fore an’ aft, baby.
Rock my boat. Uh-huh.
That’s it ...rock my boat.
High an’ low now.
Rock my boat.
Do it. Do it. Make me do it!
Rock, rock...
Back and forth. Don’t stop.
Rock my boat.
W H O A!
Hey you! Yeah, you...
D’you hear me?
I said: rock my boat.
Port an’ starboard.
Rock it, darlin’.
Rock my boat.
Just do it!
Fast and slow.
What’d you say?
Go ahead. Help yourself.
Take it easy now.
Rockin’ my boat.
Uptown. Downtown.
Now don’t you like...
Rockin’ my boat?
Lock an’ load, baby.
Just like a teeter-totter.
Rock my boat.
It’s recess time.
Goin’ down that slippery slide
On the playground of love.
Yeah ...rock that boat.
Front door. Back door.
Rock my boat.
One time for me.
One time for you. That’s it.
Look at us now, would ya?
We got us a real boy-girl convoy
On the Sea of Love, baby.
I’d say we’re sailing together now.
Rock, rock, rock
Oo...rockin’ that boat.
Bring the house down, darlin’.
Davy Jones have mercy!

Ants in My Pants

Who turned the music up?
Who turned the lights down low?
Feels like I got ants in my pants.
Tell me something I don’t already know.
Better grab me a partner
C’mon, baby! Look out below!

I got ants in my pants.
Yeah ...that’s right.
You heard me.
I got ants in my pants.
Get my drift, cowboy?
Makes me want to dance.

You heard me right.
About those ants
Like I just got born again.
You know that feeling?
Can’t sit still.
When you’ve got ants in your pants.

Too many to count.
You can shake anything you want.
Red rover, red rover
Those ants are all over.

C’mon cowboy, be my exterminator.
I know you got all the right equipment.
To take care of them critters.
Make me shiver an’ sweat. Make me moan.
The coast is never clear.
When you got ants in your pants.

I think they’re multiplyin’
Makes me wanna roar like a lion.
These ants in my pants
Lord, turn your head just one more time.
They’re crawlin’ on me.
C’mon cowpoke. Loan me the chance.

OH! They’re playin’ my favorite song.
Can’t stand it no more.
Got-a get out on that dance floor.
Get rid of these damn you-know-whats.
Whoa! Yes sir! Would I ever! ’Because you see…
They’re crawlin’, ain’t no stallin’
Makin’ me dance out loud.
Saddle me up. I’m an ant farm, baby.

Till I Make Up My Mind

All them jig-saw lonely hearts idled at the bar.
Each a thousand-piece puzzle if you got the time
And the patience of a patient on a VA waiting list.
Bottle blondes, brunettes, chili pepper reds.
It’s a carnival. A midway. Kewpie doll row.
Twelve for a dime. How much for another throw?

Doin’ the Ouija board hustle
Watch me flex my muscle.
Just another way to pass the time.
Yeah, I lost my lover.
Not sure I want another.
But you’ll do till I make up my mind.

Talk’s as cheap as a Goodwill mark-down.
All of ’em say they’ll bond like glue. Never ever be a shrew.
Hey! Miss Face-down on a cosmetic counter. How about you?
Which color of lipstick matches your flame?
Who are you wearing? Ain’t none of ‘em like any other
You’ve had before ...that is, till your wallet’s out-a pour.

I’m doin’ the Ouija board hustle.
Watch me flex my muscle.
Just another way to pass the time.
Yeah, I lost my lover.
Not sure I want another.
But you’ll do till I make up my mind.

So, I tell myself...

(Repeat refrain.)

My advice to you, darlin’: Don’t turn me down till I say-so.

The Thunder in My Soul

Sitting in a porch swing
Creaking in the moonlight
Hashing over a memory or two.
We learned early on
That plans don’t change the weather
In the overall scheme of things.
Like an overloaded rig down a steep mountain road,
Brakes to the floor,
We thought we couldn’t take any more.

You’re the lightning in my spirit, the thunder in my soul,
Let those memories slip off the tips of our tongues.
Who’s to say we won’t always be young?

We listened to our feelings.
Made each other laugh when we could.
Ain’t nothing like a front porch get-away.
Holding hands, listening to cicadas chant.
A summer breeze nudging the wind chimes.
Who would have guessed that happy has a plan
if a promise is a compass of where we want to be.
Looking forward to tomorrow
Knowing it won’t be a tight fit.

You’re the lightning in my spirit, the thunder in my soul,
Listen to them sweet nothings where our hats are hung.
Who’s to say we can’t forever be young?

Takin’ My Dog Out-a This Fight

Yesterday I lost my job.
Ain’t never been in jail.
Won’t live long enough,
To see the end of junk mail.
Will you?

Got some gas in my truck.
Got a little money saved away.
Ain’t got no bills,
I can’t pay today.
Lord knows I try.

So, I guess I’m takin’ my dog
Out-a this fight for a while.
Maybe go fishing
Greenwood County style.
Couple six packs, I’m drifting like Moses on the Nile

All this is brand new to me.
Nothing but time on my hands.
Said she couldn’t take it no more.
Left me watching from the stands.
Spectator-like. If you catch my drift.

Guess I’ll be taking my dog
Out of this fight for a while,
Let these wounds ya can’t see heal, darlin’,
’Cause they’re cramping my style.
You know, Viet-nam wasn’t for everybody.

All my friends give me free advice.
Worth about what I paid.
They say they want to help me
With all them mistakes they say I made.
That’s their opinion.

Hear this ol’ dog howl.
Play it through.

(Instrumental: steel guitar riffs)

Can’t buy it in a can.
Find it fresh or ready-made.
They say there’s more fish in the sea
Where she come from.
Bet they bite too, like jaws on my parade.

Best y’all know, I am taking my dog
Out-a this fight for a while.
Don’t make me no difference
If tomorrow, the sun don’t smile.
Say it will.

Wouldn’t life be great?
If you knew who ya are.
So, turn up the music.
Lemme hear that steel guitar.
This here’s how I feel like right now.

(Instrumental.)

You betcha I’m takin’ my dog, your dog, any dog that’ll go.
On a no phone, no radio, no TV, ad free fishing spree.
Hiking over yonder to my very own little fishin’ hole.
Got my tackle box, cee-gars, six packs, jerky snacks, rod and reel.
Can’t think straight less I’m alone. Lord, I reckon it’s your deal.

Born to the Choir

I got the Ice Age shivers and holes in my shoes.
It’s snowing outside on the television news.
Good first lines, huh? I just made that up.
Got nowhere to go but anywhere I choose.
Kickin’ back at this big city soup kitchen supper affair.
A no thrills, no frills, no black-tie joint.
A Gospel sponsored free-for-all on the urban Midway.

Just the other day I asked myself
‘How can things be lookin’ up when I’m lookin’ down?’
Guy sittin’ next to me says: “Ever feel like a bit-part in a freak show?”
Oh! Listen up. Try this on for size.
I got head cold quivers and the short stack blues,
dreams of the dark and syrup on my shoes.
Can you hear the music? But you know what?

My mama said I could sing like I was born to a choir,
But Lady Luck left me behind by the time I turned twelve.
They might as well-a stuffed me in a gunnysack,
plopped me down curbside, and let it go at that.
’Nother Smoky Mountain orphan gone astray.
Every turn I took led me someplace to stay.
I’m a bred and buttered Pelisippi River boy; a thread bare cliché.

Socially gray. A walkin’, breathin’ statistic.
Ain’t it about time to bow our heads and pray?
Here I am, still a crossword puzzle with unsolved clues.
I keep scannin’ the want ads for-a scrap-a good news.
Waitin’ in another line, wonderin’ what they got in mind.
Will I sweep? Shovel? Haff to get down on all fours?
Streetwise, tellin’ lies. Hey, buddy, can you spare some coin?

I kept thinkin’ maybe it will all blow over soon.
Then come the revelation. That personal self-inflicted resurrection.
A compli-men-tarry meal and a truck load-a good intention.
Hey. Pass me the salt, will ya? God Bless you, brother.
Anymore, you ask me, there ain’t nothin’
like pickin’ Kumbaya on my thrift store banjo,
a free cuppa Joe, and Mr. Jesus livin’ inside-a me.

Cock-a-Doodle-Do Song

It’s early, still dark, and pourin’ mighty hard rain.
Got this Goliath-size pain, poundin’ in my brain.
Can’t sleep. Can’t count sheep. Can’t remember something.
Damn sure won’t do no good to complain.
Besides, who would listen? Is this what they call the blues?

Lord I can’t move but an inch right now.
Feel like a TV dinner micro-waved too long.
Know I’ll feel better by noon, or later maybe.
Can’t beat those tequila shooters with a wedge of lime.
They said I passed out on the floor.

My head’s like thin ice on a geologic fault.
Any noise is like the startin’ bell at the Belmont.
Hung over like a wet sheet on an Ozarks clothesline.
Got a full-up bladder ’bout to let out a stream.
And my dog’s just layin’ there lookin’ at me.

Lord, I don’t think I can move but one inch at a time.
Pager’s goin’ off, they prob’ly need me at work.
Wonder where I might-a left my boots?
Think she give me her number. Where’d that get to?
Hello Saturday morning doodle-doodle-do.

The only thing worse would be the phone should ring.
No matter. Gotta get up. Take care of business.
Splash some cold water on my face. Down some aspirin.
Wonder if I rolled up my driver’s side window.
Was that thunder? What’s that taste in my mouth?

Lord I can’t move an inch, but I repeat myself.
Every step I take is gonna seem like a mile.
DoIreallywannabemeanymore? Here I am,
Whining like a minor leaguer on a called third mit strike.
Among other things, I already miss her smile.

Hello Saturday mornin’! Cock-cock-cock-a-doodle-do