Her legs went on forever.
Her eyes were pools unclear.
Didn’t mean to hit me in the balls.
I bought her shots and beer.
Her legs went on forever.
I knew she’d be unkind.
I couldn’t find the words to say.
So I let her read my mind.
Her legs went on forever
I tried so hard to please
She helped me get to know myself
Helped me off my knees.
I never got to thank her
Kind words for her to tell
That was many moons ago
My memories not so well.
Dennis Mantin
I don’t know why my baby loves clowns.
Whose painted on tears never fall down.
I don’t know what she sees in their eyes
Perhaps the line between horror/surprise…
I don’t know why my baby can’t sing.
Why carnival music isn’t her thing.
It fills my head when I’m at the fair.
Searching for clues in clowns everywhere.
I don’t know why she screams at night.
I hope it’s not why she holds me so tight.
Because I’m the type I’m weak for love.
Carnival music I rise above.
Is it the pain or is it the tears?
For some carnival crime from yesteryears.
Maybe it’s you, maybe I’ll never know.
Maybe it’s me, baby let go.
(chorus)
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the kings horses and all the kings men.
Tried and they tried but she fell down again.
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
She went to her shrink ended up at the mall.
Humpty Dumpty wanted it all.
Dennis Mantin
I’d been searching for the answers… When finally she came along.
Preforming miracles, curing cancers. Giving music to the song.
She taught and gave directions. Even when I didn’t ask.
She let me know my fortune. In her sunshine I could bask.
She showed me all my foibles. And how little I evolved.
I felt criminally unworthy, so I left her. Mystery solved.
The bad luck raised suspicions, on a path that was beat down.
No one dared to look within or see the wise men in the town.
It was happening for eons, as long as Grandad could recall.
Like a dark foreboding plank walk or a dream in which you fall.
Until the child spoke her words that, “Maybe somethings wrong with me?”
So we made a meeting with the Doc, down at the Family Psychiatry.
The doctor raised awareness and we all took a look.
Things are looking so good now, might take Grandma off the hook.
Now life is far from perfect however the family’s not so sad.
Looking in the mirror, not blaming blind luck, good or bad.
Another day, sundown.
Another night, sundown.
Orange to black, sundown.
Fades to midnight blue.
There’s nothing I can’t do.
And here comes the night
And I don’t know why
I hear your voice
And I lose my way.
Where are you now?
Can I touch you somehow?
You’re somewhere near sleep where Images fade.
And here comes the sun.
Another night is done.
Here comes the sun.
And here I go again.
Saw the man, shot down.
Heard his voice, shot down . Eyes rolled white, shot down. Breathe goodbye that sound. Fades to midnight blue. There’s nothing I can do.
Another day shot down.
Another night shot down.
Orange to black.
Shot down.
Fades to midnight blue.
There’s nothing I can do.
DENNIS MANTIN
Chances were the premium at the chances store.
Called up their proprietor and asked for just one more.
Inside information suggested relocate.
When they closed the chances store, it sealed the users fate.
With no plans for the future and the future, it is here.
Who knew that the sun would rise and whisper last nights fear?
So we headed for the highway, which ended at the light.
Looked upon arrival, no chances store in sight.
Searching for the answers that will ease the fears.
Some will stand there crying and find few are buying tears.
All are someone’s baby lost along the way.
Strangers and sojourners who have lost the need to pray.
And I say, “Pray”
Dennis Mantin
The day the voice moved in with me, he brought his good friend fear.
Said ‘We all share your heart and soul you’ll soon forget we’re here.’
The day the voice moved in with me, peace and sleep moved out.
The addict he was at the door, and the voice he jumped to shout.
Said, ‘We like you we like it here, we know you like us too
And we know you’ll like our friends, cause true friends are so few.’
The voice would talk for hours about nothing much at all.
And all the noise would wake the fear and the drunk would wake withdrawal.
Years had passed in tears and stains and I had to kill the fear.
The voice he left in the middle of the night, said he didn’t like it here.
The voice returns sometimes when I sleep but he’s gone when I’m awake.
The strength it took to kill the fear was more than he could take.
And the drunk is with the addict and they live from coast to coast. And sometimes when I pray to God, I pray you’re not their host.
Singing, ‘We like you, we like it here, we know you like us too. And we know you’ll like our friends cause true friends are so few.
–Dennis Mantin
“I used to get angry at people who were selfish, self-centered, and self-serving. Now, because of the gifts of technology and the internet, humanity has been exposed as selfish, self-centered, and self-serving… I now realize how misplaced and naive and immature my anger really was. I now spend a great deal of time alone and reading and writing. This is where the true selfish self-centered self-serving is.”
Dennis Mantin 
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