Small town, gotta go
No prima donnas here
Getcher camra, go downtown
Got a cat fell on its ear.
And this could be a story
Who's that fella, yeah ya knooow.
He's the former-priest-gone-rapper,
Calls himself the letter "O."

Came back home here after college
To maybe save the world or else
Maybe take a job at Piggly Wiggly
And marry Bobby's sister Nels.
But there's no world to save 'round here
'Les you count the crooks on Main.
Maybe the plant and its illegals,
And why in August there's no rain.

The Jaycees want a "pitcher," they say
Of their Hot Dog Day balloon.
"Put it on Page One, above the fold,
"And put it there real soon."
And the Boy Scouts are a sellin'
Things we all usta wear before
And remind us every year
To put a news brief on Page Four.

When the Air Force bombed Iraq
We all saw it on TV.
Got them yellow ribbons, "We support"
"Bring the boys home, keep us free."

So where'd you say that dog is sittin'?
Yeah, should be a great shot, we agree.
And whose cute girl in the furry dress?
The bank man's younger daughter, yeah, I see.

In Argentina we'd be martyrs for-sure.
Do the right thing for the cause.
But in Lynn Grove we drink coffee,
Punch the keys, then mop the floor.
And I'm home in time for Seinfeld,
And Bobby's sister locks our door.

Back in 1968 RFK came to my town
Talked to the people at the train depot
Men on the roof of the Monkey Ward,
Looking to shoot Robert down, I think.
I said to sister Donna, see them men?
She said go d'liver your papers.
And don't bother me no more, James.
Just don't bother me no more.

Well, I stood on my bike with my papers,
Front and back pouch, quarter-fold.
He said, Some men see things
Kids see some things, too.

They had a parade and a lunch with a view
Then took him to the airport and off he flew.
We went on with our business,
Yeah, that was pretty cool, but
Don't bother me no more now
Don't bother me no more, kid
Don't bother me no more.

Norfolk, Nebraska turned to LA Californ'
And Bobby, we all called him Bobby
Was a bleedin' on the floor.
Heart and soul on the kitchen floor, boy.
And momma told me Jimmy.
She always called me Jimmy,
You go to sleep and don't think
Don't let it bother you no more, son
It won't bother you no more.

In the morning they said that he died,
And I cried. And the train just sighed.
While the police lied.
Said it wouldn't bother us no more.
Naw, it don't bother us no more, now
We got our own lives that's for sure.

Don't bother us no more, now
That don't bother us at all, pa
Hey, it don't bother me no more.

Someone mopped the floor, son
And it can't bother us no more.

Arctic Circle, 7 o'clock, 1972
Norfolk, Nebraska, Saturday Night
Waitin' for the rest of the crew.

"Heeere's Johnny!" Ed would say.
But we never saw him
Except on the tube
Through Mrs. T's bedroom window, hmm.

Or sitting in the living room between Mom
And Dad.
They'd listen and smile at Johnny
While blue reflections of Sinatra and Astair
Danced on their faces.
We played in the front yard chasing lightening bugs,
Running races.

Here's Johnny! Here's Johnny.
Hey, Johnny. Here we are.

We never shook your hand, but watched as you
Met the world one-by-one.
We stayed home, played cards, drank beer
And played ball.
We never saw you, around town.

Here's Johnny. Here's Johnny.
Hey Johnny. Here we are.

Could you see us? I once thought Jack LaLane
Could see me through the tube.
Get off the couch, he'd say, do some pushups.
I'd move to the chair on the side
So he couldn't see me
Eating pretzels.

Did you ever just want to come home
Mow the lawn and listen to the locusts
And the mourning doves
And eat popcorn.
Just let Ed keep on laughing. He's stupid.
Are you?

We'd meet at 7 Friday and Saturday.
Parents' cars lined up in two facing rows.
Veetnam, The Beatles. Allende. Charles Manson.
It all went right by us, on TV
In and out two back open windows,
Away like a rooster pheasant does fly. Right by.

And still here we sit.
Arctic became a Taco Bell.
We shoulda been big shots
Like you, John, 'cause you know
There's guys in this here booth
Much better than you.

Me? I'm still on this couch.
Still looking for my big break.
Not gonna take no small time.
Got a job mowin' my sister's lawn,
And then mom's.

Next fall I'll be 40, but
I'm still gonna make it.

A boy with a big dream
Not just a kid with no song.
Us guys here in Norfolk
We crave the big spotlight
'Cause Johnny done showed us
How to be a big star.

Up for chow, it's 5 a.m.
On a Council Bluffs Saturday night.
Roll the first one, Bugler pack,
Yeah, should make it through this day
Down the hall comes the breakfast tray.

Down the hall comes the breakfast tray
Down the hall comes the breakfast tray. Hey!
Down the hall comes the breakfast tray.

Line up guys, tuck in your shirts,
Trade my roll for your cereal.
Dark outside on a December morn'
There's frost on the window
A kid on a horse on a Christmas eve.
With a star on the end of its nose.

We're the prisoners.
We're the losers. We're the Injuns, Faggots, Niggers. We're the bad boys.
We're the punks.
Mop the floor, boss? Get a light?
Roll and cereal. Milk, butter, bread
Light a cigarette, go back to bed.

Listen to the lights come on downtown.
See the cars go rumbling by.
See the winners drive right by.

Get tough on this here crime. See those children
On Visiting Day.
Saying hello to daddy. No kids, he can't hold you.
He'll be home again some day.

The car broke down Wednesday; my mom is real sick.
Your boys need shoes and a glove
You need cigarettes? See what I can do.
The car needs gas
Don't yell at me.
I think I've got the flu.

At night the supper tray
Brings beans and weenies and a peach.
TV cops break down doors.
Doug's s'posed to go home in 'bout a week.
Walk up and down and back and forth
And figure it all out in your head.
Play Cowboys and Indians, cops and bums, you got me man, I'm dead.

Then down the hall comes the breakfast tray.

Hey.

Three kids in El Salvador
Their heads chopped off
Just last night after prayers

Well, good morning, Maria
How are you?
Thank you. I'm just fine.
I'll take my messages. Anything to sign?

And a mom in North Omaha can't find the
Milk bag, 'cause it's all gone
Her kids are crying, where's the Cheerios, some suckers?
Go on
Stay out of the street, hon'.

Well, good morning, Maria.
And how are you?
Thank you. I'm just fine.
Ah, it's a beautiful day, says Congressman Bob.
America's safe and strong.
Good morning, Maria
Can't stay too long.
It's a fine life, but hectic, they say.

Overhead there's a big plane, too loud
We can't hear what the priest he is saying
Something 'bout Jesus, I'm sure.

And the kids sit on the street
Licking their treat
Their mom in her blood she does lay.
And Congressman Bob is enjoying his job,
Who wouldn't want it that way?

It was about 1960, when my mom says to me
Son, here's some shoes. And don't you refuse.
It's time you was all you could be.

We walked to the school. Hell, I ain't no fool.
I tugged on her arm all the way.
We walked in the room,
Twelve nuns and a broom.
So, this is how it's going to be.

Everywhere that I looked there was kids there were books
And there was nuns shouting in rhyme.
"Mom, let's go home. We got ice cream and cones!
"Come on, follow me, there's still time."

But she bent low and whispered,
"Don't mess with them, mister."
These nuns ride bulls on the side.
They're tough, they've got blisters.
Remember your sister?
They'll make a new shawl from your hide.

She walked out that door.
My face fell to the floor.
Then a nun took my hand in hers.

She squeezed, then she sneezed.
She grinned and she wheezed.
She said, "Put your wrap in the cloak room, my son."
I felt somewhat assured, then saw all those kid firs,
Skins of the rodeo nun.

I broke into a sweat.
I looked nervous, I bet.
Thinking of what I should do.
Should I stay here and fester
Or bolt now and best her,
That shit-kicking buckaroo Hun.

I stayed, I got quiet.
I drank cold milk, drank diet.
And the nuns taught us songs 'bout the moon.
Us kids were all happy and we felt a bit nappy,
When our moms picked us up around noon.