he loaded all he could in a bag,
pillow and blanket's all that Dale ever had,
a couple of shirts some ratty old shorts,
that he cut from old jeans.
dale ripped all the sleeves off his shirts,
he'd toil day after day after day in the dirt,
he built up the tents, he tore them down,
and he dreamed of the day.
they made him a beggar, they made him plead,
if they'd just give him a chance, they'd see him succeed,
dale gave it his all, he didn't need rest, he'd always believed,
if put to the test, he'd puff out his chest, in the paper they'd read,
how dale had been free'd.
every night he'd run all his routines,
after crowds had gone home he'd fly the trapeze,
he'd walked on the tightrope while juggling,
but nobody cared.
vacant seats lined up row after row,
empty boxes of popcorn from the eight o'clock show,
in his head he reveled in the spotlight's glow ,
that he knew wasn't there.
one night in stomped an old clown called the king,
he sat atop his throne, he stared menacing,
as he chomped a cigar with dale practicing,
he turned a wry smile.
behind dale snuck the twins ken and phil,
jugglers from the east they were intent on the kill,
they said if folks saw dale, well who would hire them still,
so they gave the king the sign.
the king pulled a hidden lever right then,
as the tightrope gave way out sprang phil and ken,
they tackled poor dale beat him beyond mend,
then they dragged him away.
Long-running underground rocker Brian Vanderwerf is the heart and soul of these gritty songs that capture the scruffy spirit of the ’70s. Bandcamp New & Notable May 7, 2022
The Philly rock juggernaut's debut LP is finally here, an electric rallying cry led, as always, by Tina Halladay's powerful voice. Bandcamp New & Notable May 10, 2017