Home
| Books | Music | Events | New work | Contact & ordering
TP logo



Three Kings
©2003 Gibbens/Weston


Rimbaud and Robert Johnson
And that good ole Rubber Duck
Were standing at the crossroads
Running out of luck,
Casting lots to see which one should die.

“I have been a rover,”
Said Rimbaud, “since seventeen,
One night spent beneath a truck
And one beneath a queen,
So it don’t mean a thing to me where I lie.”

“I’s born to walk creation,”
Said that Robert Johnson child,
“And I believe I’ll lay my head down
On this big steel track a while
And wait for the train my baby’s on.”

(Rubber Duck:)
“I bin burnin’ up the highway
Till I feel I’m made of smoke
But gimme one more toke
An’ tell me one more joke
An’ I’ll be to reach the hori-zon.”

The red queen’s cap in hand
On the corner of the street,
Black queen sticks her thumb out
And knocks the dust off her feet,
But the ace of diamonds never showed.

One joker’s walkin’
Down a disused railway line,
Two jacks are talkin’
In a shack up in the pines,
Three kings are blowin’ down the road.

King Arthur and King Johnson,
King of the Road that Rubber Duck,
Standing at the crossroads
Running out of luck,
Casting lots to see which one should die.

The morning sun come risin’
Like a great big bloody ship.
King Arthur bought the tickets,
King Johnson packed their grip,
And the Rubber Duck, he steered them through the sky.

 

Back to Songs from the Red Notebook