Rand Reynolds

R.Reynolds, ASCAP@2014


“You'll miss me,”

She said.

“I doubt it,”

I mumbled.

With the whiskey

Still fresh on my breath.

But I loved her to death

We keep trying

To kill each other in bed. 

She predicted: 

“You'll be dead

In 10 years ! “

“You old optimist,” I said.

Though I swapped out

My Fireball for beer.

And I tried

To clean up

My old act

But every time

I did

Old habits keep

Pulling me back. 


I ain't asking you

To hold on to my hand

To do such a thing

Make me less of a man

Don’t stop me from jumping

Down off this high wall

But when I do hit the ground hard – and I will

Dust me off when I fall. 



Now suppose, just suppose

I filled

All of your dreams

And I pushed to the side

All my childish things.

I put down the drink

And my wandering schemes

Would you love this new man

Who’s obviously not me?

Oh, big changes bring fear

Would I love you back too?

Would I like the new you

Cause you would change too

I'd try to be good

Make the best of it

But what I end up doing

Is completely the opposite. 






R.Reynolds, ASCAP@2014


I headed north from Hamburg one rainy night

Tired and hungry, one destination in mind

I curled up with the railroad with a wee bit to drink

I slumbered hard and got lost in my dreams.

When I awoke they’d put my train on a boat

So I ran up on deck, donned my old Army coat

I captured that island like a hungry Viking pagan

One night in Copenhagen.


That city embraced me like her long lost son

I inhaled salt water with Tuborg on my tongue

I’d seen her pale image in a melted watercolor

She became flesh with my touch and yes, I was her lover.

I chased in the darkness of Castle Rosenborg

She held my hand tight this White Queen of du Nord

She dragged me up the stairs and shouted: “My love is impatient!”

One night in Copenhagen.


I did push her down on the ground

Kissed her bits and pieces

She mounted me, and she must’ve forgot my name

Cause she screamed out: “Oh, Jesus!”


The day come in harsh, I was foggy of thought

It was a beautiful sunset I’d mistaken for dawn

How does it happen two lips come together?

It’s like asking a magician: “Would you please change the weather?”

I was a prince in the streets looking for my queen in vain

I had my feet on the ground, one hand on the train

Through the tears in my eyes I seen her waving at me in the station

One night in Copenhagen. 







He was a fortress of a brute
Eyes of a sniper
Hands sticky with blood
Poison like a viper
A snarl on his lips
He stalked the back streets
He was hated by all
Like something unclean.
You could feel the ground shake
And the dust it scattered
When he cocked his rifle
Rain clouds gathered
He tugged his hat down
A real awful disguise
Cause I knew that hard face
And those coal dead black eyes

You want forgiveness
Then go get your religion
You want to be absolved
Find a man of the cloth
The respect you got
Has been earned with that gun
And everybody prays for the day
When they see you hang, Tom Horn.

Tom said: “That one shot was the
Best I ever made
And the dirtiest trick
I ever played.”
But shooting a young kid
Wearing his father’s clothes
Is way out of line
Even for lawless rouge.
But big money came fast
Hand over fist
Working for cattle barons
And the renegade government.
Shove homesteaders off the land
Cause there’s power in the ground
And the more you got of it
Then you got yourself a town.

Now the sheriff lured Tom
With a bottle of scotch
Got him to talking bout the crime
That kid murdering job.
And the more Tom talked
The tighter the noose
Sometimes justice gets served up
With ego and booze.
Tom Horn sat in his cell
Waiting on fate
Braiding tough hemp
Like the Injuns made.
And the very rope he fashioned
Was the one they used
To string Tom up real high
Oh, those cold dead black eyes.

There is no forgiveness in your religion
No redemption for you from a just god on high
For the sins of the father now become the son’s
A rifle is for cowards -- you never looked ‘em in the eye. Did ya?
Did ya?