Murder Ballads

All are weird, no?

Just the phrase, murder ballad, is filled with tension. They’re violent but also somehow soothing, cyclical and also terminal. I like the old ones and also the new ones.

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OL’ BOB BARNES

Ol’ Bob Barnes he woke up right, squinted at the morning light. He was spoiling for a fight. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes at the city square, thinking he had too-long hair. He got up, got out of there. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes at the barbershop, said “Take a little off the top.” When he opened his eyes, his heart did drop. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes in a public park, from break of day to the darkest dark, face screwed up like a question mark. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes got in a car with some coffee and a candy bar and a loaded pistol and a cheap cigar. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes, well, he did drive, furious and sleep deprived, his hand upon the .45. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes, well, he did find the barber, screamed out “Are you blind?,” struck a blow for humankind. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes in his morning bed felt a pounding in his head, remembered nothing but the red. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes prayed to the Lord and told him this was from what the war and the Lord’s response was not recorded. Was justice served? Ol’ Bob Barnes and another day: this time the sky was flat and gray. He knew he’d never find his way. Was justice served? [©2026 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas]