We Sail Tonight for Singapore

Tom Waits turned 58 yesterday.

I mention this because a) he’s great and b) he writes lyrics like this:

Well, Peter denied and Judas betrayed
I'll bail with the roll of the drum
And the wind will tell the turn from the wheel
And the watchman is making his rounds
Well, you'll leave me hanging by the skin of my teeth
I've only got one leg to stand
You can send me to hell
But I'll never let go of your hand

If I could see anyone live, it’d be Waits.

If I could be a musician that wasn't ’65 Dylan, it’d be Waits.

If I could have anyone’s humor, it’d be Waits’.

I think you can tell I’m a fan.

Here’s another classic:

Now don’t be a cry baby
When there’s wood in the shed
There’s a bird in the chimney
And a stone in my bed
When the road’s washed out
They pass the bottle around
And wait in the arms
Of the cold, cold ground
Cold, cold ground

And another:

Let’s follow the fire truck
I think your house is burning down
Then go down to the hobo jungle,
And kill some rattle snakes with a trowel
We’ll break all the windows in the ol’ Anderson place
And steal a bunch of boysenberries
And smear ‘em on our face
I’ll get a dollar from my mama’s purse
And buy that skull and crossbones ring
And you can wear it around your neck
On an old piece of string.