Monthly Archives: July 2011

From Ukraine With Love

One bright spot in the otherwise oppressive International Headquarters Base of Radical Scientology experience for me was encounters with people like Michael “Misha” Priv.   Despite long hours, sleepless nights, general suppression, and executing many times pointless work Misha always appeared to me to have a glass-half-full attitude.   Recently Misha sent me the forward to a book he is writing on his Scientology experience.  He granted me persmission to share it here on the blog.  You can find it below this introduction.   You gotta love the way this guy rolls.

Michael "Misha" Priv

THE GOLDEN FLEECE

By Michael Priv

 

FOREWORD

LOS ANGELES, JULY 2005

Spurred by adrenaline rush and pure desperation, I dashed to the back emergency door marked DO NOT OPEN, ALARM WILL SOUND and slammed into it. The sound of alarm tore through the hospital calm with insane intensity. I afforded a quick glance back as I bolted out of the bellowing door. Nothing but a couple of oblivious nurses and medical equipment along the hallway walls. There was no pursuit. Yet.

Momentarily blinded by the sunlight outside, I raced across the parking lot toward the concrete wall, grabbed the top, pulled myself up and over and ran across a busy street on the other side. As a lousy runner, I wanted to put as much distance as possible between me and the expected pursuers. I had to assume that the guards, alerted by my absence and the insane hospital door alarm, would chase after me. A terrifying thought. With my heart clucking somewhere in my throat, I ran into a shoe store across the street and looked back just in time to see one of the guards clearing the wall across the street. He looked around and sprinted to his right along the wall.

I hurriedly marched all the way through the store in long strides toward the back door, soliciting quizzical looks from a couple of Latino sales girls in attendance. I smiled at them, panting with exertion. A long time ago somebody once told me that I had a nice smile. The moment seemed right to try it now. The first door I encountered at the back of the sales area of the store stated DO NOT ENTER in large cheerful letters. I entered. The back door proclaimed once again that alarm will sound and it did—with now familiar ear-splitting intensity. Another parking lot, another wall. A glance back confirmed that I was not being pursued.

I ran across an overpass bridge, then along some street lined up with warehouses and auto repair shops and turned into a grungy alley. Keeping at a brisk clip, I labored to get a full breath into my burning lungs. No resting on the laurels just yet. Freedom was too close to take any chances. Several turned corners later, completely out of breath, I ran into a liquor store with an ironic name “AA Liquors.”

“Can I use your phone, please?” I wheezed, fighting for a breath, to the middle-age, hefty blue-eyed sales lady.

“No,” curt but to the point. “Customers no phone,” she added sternly with a heavy Russian accent.

“That’s okay then,” I replied in Russian with an attempt on a smile which probably came out tortured, “I am not a customer because I don’t want to buy anything from you. So I am okay.”

“That completely changes things! I thought you were a customer!” The lady replied in Russian, laughing, “My name is Anna. Sure, use the phone in the back,” she waved her hand vaguely. “Why are you so huffed up? Hey, you want some?” She handed me her bottle of Gatorade which she was drinking from and I downed the remaining half-forgotten chemical sweetness hungrily.

“Thanks, Anna. I am Misha.”

“You are welcome, Misha. Russians must stick together and help each other, right?”

I nodded despite being a Ukrainian. Who wanted to split hairs? Good being a Russian if you wanted a favor from a chubby, blue-eyed Russian lady by the name Anna. Otherwise, not especially.

I discovered a tiny office in the back with a phone on a table cluttered with papers, a bunch of loose change, torn up bags of potato chips and mangled soda cans. With shaking hands and trembling voice I placed a collect call to my parents in San Francisco.

“Hi mom, it’s me.”

Silence.

“Me who?”

“Your son, Misha.”

“Do I have a son?” mom started crying.

“You do! I just ran away.”

“What?!”

“I am out, mom!”

“How? Where…? Are you okay?”

“I am okay, I am fine… How are you and dad?”

“Never mind that, you scoundrel! Are you in any danger? Are these Scientology bastards chasing after you?”

“Bastards? Mom, listen, there is Scientology which is good and then there is a Church of Scientology which is… Never mind. I am alright. I am in a liquor store in LA, they won’t find me here.”

“What happened?!”

“Well, as you know, I refused to continue working at the International Management Base where I’ve worked all these years and they sent me to LA for a special rehabilitation program…”

“They put you in jail!”

“Well, it is not exactly…”

“Shut up, Misha! They threw you in jail and you escaped!”

“Well, pretty much, I suppose.”

“I hate Scientologists!”

“Mom, that’s unfair. The corrupt Church of Scientology is one thing but tens of thousands of Scientologists who…”

“Shut up! Just shut up! Stop this nonsense! Get on a bus and come home!” mother yelled, “Or are you too brainwashed to do at least that?”

“I have no money, not a penny.”

Silence.

“Okay, hang on, honey!”

Then I heard my mom yelling to my father, “He escaped from that damn prison!” then it sounded as if she dropped the receiver and moved further away from the phone. In a minute my father picked up the phone, “Hey, idiot! How are you?”

“Pretty good, dad, how are you doing?”

“Better than you for damn sure! Eighteen frigging years you gave them! Eighteen best years! You were twenty-seven when you started! And for what?!”

“Not now, dad, please.”

“Okay, okay. Stay where you are, we are getting somebody to pick you up. Call me back collect in a few minutes and give me the exact address.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The line went dead.

“Who are you?” a quiet voice behind me. I turned around and found myself staring into Anna’s blue eyes. How long has she been standing in that door?

“Who are you?” she asked again, wide-eyed.

Who am I? An interesting question. Who am I? A Ukrainian man? A Jew? A US citizen? A human being? An animal? A fool? A brainwashed victim of a hateful cult? A holly man? A soldier? A traitor? A hero? A loser? A former member of the Sea Org, the elite paramilitary management corps of the Church of Scientology? A former translations executive, a member of the International Management of the Church? A convict? A coward? A fugitive?

I looked deep into Anna’s pretty eyes and replied, “I am a Scientologist.”

——-

For more of Mr. Priv’s fine writing go to www.ThetaWrite.com

The South Texas Siege – Day 105

Calm between two storms at Casablanca

We enjoy a short calm between two storms.

One storm incoming, the other outgoing. 

In this brief respite, a few words below from wise men describing what it is we are dealing with here.   This week David Miscavige, Dave Lublow, John Allender and the better part of the entire OSA Network have been scrambling hard to keep the general public ignorant. Even while we delivered three complete Scientology Grades, by tactics of attempted intimidation and bribery they have sought to keep the outgoing storm of truth at bay. 

Thank God for honest folk.  Common folk. Folk with conscience and integrity. Folk who are motivated by something higher than fear and material gain.

The applicable words:

Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.

– Martin Luther King

Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!

– Sir Walter Scott

Unethical conduct is actually the conduct of destruction and fear.  Lies are told because one is afraid of the consequences should one tell the truth. Destructive acts are usually done out of fear. Thus, the liar is inevitably a coward and the coward inevitably a liar.

– L Ron Hubbard

The old must give way to the new, falsehood must become exposed by truth, and truth, though fought, always in the end prevails.

– L Ron Hubbard

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

– Matthew 5:5

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Restoration of Personal Integrity

Everything we do here  is aimed toward waking people up.   Part of that process is helping to restore Personal Integrity to those who have been conned into checking it at the doors of Radical Coporate Scientology organizations. 

The video below shows a person who was positively effected by our getting true information out about a rather insidious and dangerous cult.   Anyone who may consider my words here a tad strong, consider the implications of a group creating the mindset that it is rather honorable to volunteer to go out to ruin someone’s livelihood and life in order to deprive them of their constitutional and human rights to communicate.

Thomas Paine in The Age of Reason nailed the mindset required to commit such felonies and its consequences quite competently more than 200 years ago:

It is impossible to calculate the moral mischief, if I may so express it, that mental  lying has produced in society. When a man has so far corrupted and prostituted the chastity of his mind, as to suscribe his professional belief to things he does not believe, he has prepared himself for the commission of every other crime. 

Radical Corporate Scientology produces this state of suspended conscientiousness as a matter of standard operating procedure day in and day out.  It is often hard to break from because of the blackmail and punishment the “church” metes out to anyone who dares wake up and exercise personal integrity.

L Ron Hubbard wrote the following:

It is fascinating that blackmail and punishment are the keynotes of all dark operations. What would happen if these two commodities no longer existed? What would happen if all men were free enough to speak?  Then and only then, would you have freedom. On the day when we can fully trust each other, there will be peace on earth.

And so congratulations to Paulien Lombard for your exercise in Personal Integrity.  Thank you for bringing us a little closer to peace on earth.  My hat is off to you.

Time Out for the Tao

Having noticed certain shortcomings in my own conduct of late, I turned to the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu as I often do.  I am noting some passages below that particularly rang applicable given current events.  Maybe they’ll also provide some food for thought for others too.  For those folk who are still so programmed to believe any wisdom outside of Scientology is deleterious, a few words by L Ron Hubbard on the Tao Te Ching:

“It says that man could seek his Tao-hood in various ways, but he would have to practice and live in a certain way in order to achieve Tao-hood.  Now, there’s no reason to belabor this any further, but it would amaze  you that this book is a very civilized piece of work.  It would be the kind of civilized work which you would expect maybe to appear from a very, very educated, extremely compassionate, pleasant people of a higher intellectual order than we are accustomed to read.  It is a very fine book.  It’s sort of simple, it’s sort of naive and it tells you that you should be simple and economical and should do this and that.   And that is, by the way, about the only flaw there is in it from a Scientological point of view: that you must be economical. [laughter] That one is a little off the groove. But the rest of “The Way”, who knows but what if we took the Tao just as written and knowing what we already know about Scientology, we simply set out to practice the Tao.  I don’t know but what we wouldn’t get a Theta Clear.”  – lecture Scientology, Its General Background, Part II, the Phoenix lectures.

Selected passages from Tao Te Ching:

There is no greater illusion than fear, no greater wrong than preparing to defend yourself, no greater misfortune than having an enemy.  Whoever can see through fear will always be safe.

If a country is governed with tolerance, the people are comfortable and honest.

If a country is governed with repression, the people are depressed and crafty.

The Master views the parts with compassion, because he understands the whole. His constant practice is humility.  He doesn’t glitter like a jewel but lets himself be shaped by the Tao, as rugged and common as a stone.

When the great Tao is forgotten, goodness and piety appear.  When the body’s intelligence declines, cleverness and knowledge step forth. When there is no peace in the family, filial piety begins. When the country falls into chaos, patriotism is born.

Fill your bowl to the brim and it will spill.  Keep sharpening your knife and it will blunt.  Chase after money and security and your heart will never unclench.  Care about people’s approval and you will be their prisoner.  Do your work, then step back. The only path to serenity.

He who stands on tiptoe doesn’t stand firm. 

He who rushes ahead doesn’t go far.

He who tries to shine dims his own light.

He who defines himself can’t know who he really is.

He who has power over others can’t empower himself.

He who clings to his work will create nothing that endures.

If you want to accord with the Tao, just do your job, then let go.

A great nation is like a great man: when he makes a mistake, he realizes it.

Having realized it, he admits it.

Having admitted it, he corrects it.

He considers those who point out his faults as his most benevolent teachers.

He thinks of his enemy as the shadow he himself casts.

What is a good man but a bad man’s teacher?

What is a bad man but a good man’s job?

If you don’t understand this, you will get lost, however intelligent you are.

It is the great secret.

Why I Support Marty by Mark Bunker

Whatever Mark Bunker’s views, and whatever I may think of them, Mark Bunker is a decent, honest guy.  I thought so when I saw him in Clearwater in 2000 when he was the video guy for the Lisa McPherson trust.  I thought so when I saw his famous video beseeching Anyonymous to tone it down a few years back (garnering him the handle Wise Beard Man – or Wisebeardman).  I thought so when he volunteered to convert my original trashy one page webpage into a WordPress blog format.  And I think so today.  Bunker has kind of taken on the role of Little Switzerland, or Big Switzerland depending on your point of view, in the ecclectic community of ex-Radical Corporate Scientologists and never-Scientologists protesting corrupt cultic practices carried out in the name of Scientology.

Guest Editorial

 by Mark Bunker, aka Wisebeardman

It may be surprising to some to see comments from me on Marty’s
blog but I feel kind of at home here as a visitor.  I don’t agree
with everything Marty writes but I enjoy reading what he has to say
and I’ve learned a lot from following his posts.  I’m also indebted
to him for exposing a lot of newsworthy stories since this blog
launched.  It’s seems like virtually every day there’s some tidbit
that rumbles the ground at the Int Base.  Enough tremors keep
happening and he might actually shatter the locks on the doors and
free people like Heber Jentzsch from captivity.

I’ve been speaking out about Scientology’s deceptive and abusive
side since 1999.  In 2000 and 2001, I moved to Clearwater, Florida
to work with Bob Minton and Stacy Brooks at the Lisa McPherson
Trust.  We may not have gone about it the best way possible (okay,
we didn’t) but we were there because we wanted to draw attention to
abusive practices like disconnection that are still hurting members
of Scientology today.  Even then, we were open to working with
people like Greg and Debra Barnes who still believed in Hubbard and
the tech but wanted to get their message out that management was
squirreling the tech, forcing six-month sec checks on people doing
OT VII and declaring them Suppressive for daring to quote Hubbard’s
policy to back up their charges.

http://www.xenutv.com/blog/?cat=176

I bumped into Marty once during that time and encountered Mike
Rinder on several occasions, notably during the first picket the
LMT did after opening our doors.  Bob’s message that night was
“Reform Scientology now. Dump David Miscavige.”  Years later, Marty
would tell me that another message that stuck with him from that
time was “It’s Safe to Look, It’s Safe to Talk.”

Bob Minton faced a global assault from Scientology until he
couldn’t take it any more and caved.  Bob made mistakes, as we all
do, and Scientology exploited those mistakes.  I witnessed the
assault and the heavy toll it took on him.  He was a good and
decent man and he was my hero.  I recently sat down and interviewed
Mike Rinder who oversaw the campaign against Bob.  Here’s a very
brief clip from that interview:

There are many critics of Scientology who can’t forgive Mike and
Marty for their actions while in Scientology.  I’m sure there are
many Scientologists who will never forgive me for speaking out
against Scientology.  I’d rather look past that black and white
attitude and find a way to communicate and curb the abuses that
brought Bob Minton into this fight to begin with and that are now
being hurled against people like Mike and Marty.

I said I felt at home here at this blog.  Part of the reason is
that I set this blog up for Marty.  I did it because I wanted to
hear what he had to say.  He had a webpage up that was hard to read
and I’m sure was hard for him to update.  I took a couple hours one
Sunday afternoon just taking the information he had published and
putting it into this blog format.  I sent him the link and told him
I’d be happy to walk him through using the site if he wanted to do
so.  We had never talked or met and I wasn’t sure he would welcome
my intrusion but he liked the idea so for a couple weeks I answered
his questions and cleaned up the formatting on posts he made, then
the training wheels were off and he was up and running on his own.
Since then he has dwarfed my site’s readership and changed
Scientology’s landscape, and I learn new things almost every day.

I’m currently making a feature film documentary about Scientology
called Knowledge Report. The basic point of the film is that people
can believe anything they want but Scientology doesn’t have the
right to behave anyway it chooses.  I’ve interviewed several
Independent Scientologists and plan to interview more soon.  You
may not agree with every aspect of the film but I think overall you
should be happy with the finished product.  Here’s a little sample
of some of the people who have agreed to be part of the film:

The film is being financed through donations at IndieGoGo.com.  If
you’d be interested in helping, you can make a donation here:

http://www.indiegogo.com/knowledge-report

If you have suggestions for the film you can contact me at
markbunker@gmail.com.  I look forward to your feedback.

UPDATE 9:36 pm central: Village Voice weighs in: http://blogs.villagevoice.com/runninscared/2011/07/scientology_apo.php

Just for Kicks

 

The Nerve of Minerva by Samantha Domingo

We’ve been a bit distracted of late dealing with David Miscavige’s robots carrying out his orders to run us out of our home and town.  Part of the program includes defaming us with lies both on his 28 anti-Marty sites and individually to officials and citizens of our home town and region.  I have been remiss lately in not keeping the vacuum filled on what goes on at Casablanca that causes the waves of cult members and PI’s swirling about attempting our demise.  I began the process yesterday and continue it today with the inimitable Samantha Domingo.  Sam likes to joust with Minerva (handle for Miscavige’s oracle of entheta – vicious lies).  Sam wrote the following recently to put the lie to one of Minerva’s oft-repeated propaganda lines. It tends to fill the vacuum of what goes on here while all the noise goes on in the streets.

 

The Nerve of  Minerva

By Samantha Domingo

  

A  recent post on the OSA inspired anti-Marty Rathbun website (really a character assassination) lays claim to the invented idea that I would not trust Marty Rathbun to audit me.

Well then. Time to fill the vacuum!

The data from ‘Minerva’ (OSA operative) that became twisted into my not being desirous of auditing from Marty stems from an email I sent to ‘her’ challenging her claim that I had gone to receive auditing from Marty. Not that I care whether anyone thinks I am or am not receiving auditing from Marty, but it simply wasn’t true. I went to see Marty for an ethics handling.

The reason I didn’t want auditing? Not because I didn’t trust Marty. But because the last year I spent at Flag (being ‘audited’ by Class IXs and XIIs) was so engramic I didn’t know if I could face ever going back in session again.

The out-tech my ex-husband and I endured at Flag included (but was not limited to): Robotic TRs, enforced ethics handlings, enforced items, refused items, running an OT on squirrel FPRD processes (neglecting to handle the OT case correctly), evaluation, forced auditing over exterior, forced auditing over tiredness, being audited after 10pm or before 8am, frequent (often weekly) changes of auditors, overrun, suppressive refusal to call valid F/Ns, suppressive reasonableness on out 2D, Gang bang regging, enforced repairs that were not needed, invalidation of the state of clear, invalidation of the state of OT, enforcement of NED after OT III, 3rd party (from the CHAPLAIN), Auditing a PC over a PTS condition, Auditing a PC (on the OT levels) with PT crimes, Marriage Counseling over a continuing out 2D situation, telling the PC what his overts are, refusing to accept valid overts, waiting for the meter to play Dixie, enforced interpretations of words (in session), evaluation that you haven’t made it (after attesting), evaluation that ‘there’s something wrong with your F/N’, end of endless rudiments ‘sessions’, end of endless FPRD sessions, executive C/Sing, enforced (incorrect) conditions handlings, being regged heavily after session by my auditor, being regged heavily after session by the board I/C, being regged heavily after session by the D of P, Reg visits by my auditor to my house, waiting at the examiner, MAAs falling asleep mid ethics interviews, auditors falling asleep mid session, DTS in tears daily if I didn’t help make their hours quota (guilting me into session), being told that all beings are always exterior (as an excuse to take me in session while still exterior), examiners and auditors staring at the e-meter (causing dirty needles), lengthy enforced and un-necessary sec checking at our own expense while not under ethics or justice actions…I could go on.

The reason I never wanted to go near an org or in session ever again? The squirrel technology developed by David Miscavige and in full use at Flag. I got my ‘ethics interview’ from Marty. Actually it was a 10 minute chat (and didn’t cost me a dime). In that 10 minutes I blew 2 years of frustration and grief charge, fully handled my own PTSness and rehabilitated my willingness to continue on up the Bridge.

OSA would love to insinuate that I wouldn’t trust Marty to take me in session. The fact of the matter is, he is the ONLY person I would trust to take me in session and I would be happy and willing to go in with him. Problem is. I’ve been so keyed out just by disconnecting from  the suppression of the Cult of Miscavige that life got a bit too interesting and fun to worry about such things. I’m over it now but If I fall on my head or need a repair I’ll be knocking on Marty’s door.

Incidentally the Cult of Miscavige squirrel tech almost killed my 12 year old daughter. I may not have received formal auditing from Marty but I sure as hell trusted him to handle my own child. And he did. In less than a week. At the time OSA was heavily on the lines trying to get my ex-husband to talk me into giving my daughter ‘free auditing’ from a class XII. It is David Miscavige’s army of squirrel auditors at Flag I wouldn’t trust. They probably would have handled the problem by finishing up the job of destroying my child completely. ‘Pocahontas’ is still doing great Marty and of all the places in the world she can go, she told me she just wants to come back to Texas and see you both again.

The nightmare went on even after leaving the cult. Throughout the last two years, my ex-husband and I have had to endure constant attempts from the Cult of Miscavige to destroy my family. It wasn’t personal. It was cold and calculated and it was all about the ‘Domingo’ name and money. Marty was there for all of us every step along the way. He has been a rock of sanity, safety and comfort for all of our family members. I have no words to thank him.

Casablanca is a second home for me. It is where I go to feel safe and loved. It is where I go when I need help. It is my org. I’m crying now as I write these words. I’m only just realizing how much of my strength actually came from knowing that Marty and Mosey had my back and were there for me always. I was never alone even though sometimes it felt that way.

No words of admiration could be enough for the way I feel about Marty’s wife Mosey.  I love you Mosey. You have endured far worse attacks than I have and for the same sin I was guilty of – loving and protecting your husband despite any and all attempts to destroy your love for each other.

Last I checked Maty’s auditing schedule was crammed with PCs and the phone was ringing off the hook. A sure sign that people are winning wouldn’t you say?

I can’t wait to return to Casablanca. Marty – please give your amazing neighbors a hug from me and ask them tell their love story to every person who comes to visit you! They truly were an inspiration to me.

I assume that fills the vacuum?

Feel free to post this on your Casablanca website or anywhere you like as my success story Marty.

Sincerely

Samantha J Domingo

Blogger note: Yeah, I’m kinda fond of Mosey too.  Brian Culkin turned me on to this little ditty that sorta captures my feelings these days (the girl I met near Brownsville Texas):

Well there was this movie I seen one time
About a man riding across the desert and starred Gregory Peck
He was shot down by a hungry kid trying to make a name for himself
The town’s people wanted to crush that kid down and string him up by the neck.

Well the Marshall now he beat that kid to a bloody pulp
As the dying gunfighter lay in the sun and gasped for his last breath
Turn him loose let him go let him say he outdrew me fair and square
I want him to feel what it’s like to every moment face his death.

Well I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in
And you know it blows right through me like a ball and chain
You know I can’t believe we’ve lived so long and are still so far apart
The memory of you keeps calling after me like a rolling train.

I can still see the day that you came to me on the pinked desert
In your busted down Ford and your platform heels
I could never figure out why you chose that particular place to meet
Ah, but you were right it was perfect as I got in behind the wheel.

Well we drove that car all night ’til we got into San Anton’
And we slept near the Alamo your skin was so tender and soft
Way down in Mexico you went out to find a doctor and you never came back
I would have gone on after you but I didn’t feel like letting my head get blow off.

Well we’re driving this car and the sun is coming up over the Rockies
Now I know she ain’t you but she’s here and she’s got that dark rhythm in her soul
But I’m too over the edge and I ain’t in the mood anymore to remember the times
when I was your only man
And she don’t want to remind me. She knows this car would go out of control.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world.
Brownsville girl you’re my honey love.Well we crossed the panthandle and then we headed towards Amarillo
We pulled up where Henry Porter used to live. He owned a wrecking lot outside of
town about a mile
Ruby was in the backyard hanging clothes she had her red hair tied back. She saw us
come rolling up in a trail of dust
She said “Henry ain’t here but you can come on in he’ll be back in a little while”.

Then she told us how times were tough and about how she was thinking of bumming
a ride back to where she started
But she changed the subject every time money came up
She said “Welcome to the land of the living dead”. You could tell she was
so broken-hearted
She said “Even the swap meets around here are pretty corrupt”.

“How far are you all going ?” Ruby asked us with a sigh
“We’re going all the way until the wheels fall off and burn
Until the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies”
Ruby just smiled and said. “Ah you know some babies never learn”.

Something about that movie though well I just can’t get it out of my head
But I can’t remember why I was in it or what part I was supposed to play
All I remember about it was Gregory Peck and the way people moved
And a lot of them seemed to be looking my way.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world.
Brownsville girl you’re my honey love.

Well they were looking for somebody with a pompadour
I was crossing the street when shots rang out
I didn’t know whether to duck or to run so I ran
We got him cornered in the churchyard ? I heard somebody shout.

Well you saw my picture in the Corpus Christi Tribune. Underneath it it said:
“A man with no alibi”
You went out on a limb to testify for me you said I was with you
Then when I saw you break down in front of the judge and cry real tears
It was the best acting I saw anybody do.

Now I’ve always been the kind of person that doesn’t like to trepass but sometimes you just find yourself over the line
Oh if there’s an original thought out there I could use it right now
You now I feel pretty good but that ain’t saying much I could feel a whole lot better
If you were just here by my side to show me how.
Well I’m standing in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck
Yeh but you know it’s not the one I had in mind
He’s got a new one out now I don’t even know what it’s about
But I’ll see him in anything so I’ll stand in line.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world
Brownsville girl you’re my honey love.

You know it’s funny how things never turn out the way you had them planned
The only things we knew for sure about Henry Porter is that his name
wasn’t Henry Porter

And you know there was something about you baby that I liked that was always too  good for this world
Just like you always said there was something about me you liked that I left behind in the French Quarter.

Strange how people who suffer together have stronger connections than people who are most content I don’t have any regrets they can talk about me plenty when I’m gone You always said people don’t do what they believe in they just do what’s most convenient then they repent And I always said. “Hang on to me baby and let’s hope that the roof stays on”.

There was a movie I seen one time I think I sat through it twice
I don’t remember who I was or where I was bound All I remember about it was it starred Gregory Peck he wore a gun and he was shot in the back
Seems like a long time ago long before the stars were torn down.

Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls
Teeth like pearls shining like the moon above
Brownsville girl show me all around the world
Brownsville girl you’re my honey love.