I like this song, and always turn it up on the Victrola.
It occurs to me that I haven’t done a poetic thing in a week or more, so here:
Why don’t you do something poetical, political, or polemical to these lyrics? That’s what this site is about, you know.
AOC, or Hillary, Dr. Jill, or Schumer would want you to.
I would, but I have this cold, you see….
There are places I’ll remember
All my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better;
Some have gone and some remain.All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living,
In my life I’ve loved them all.But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you.
And these mem’ries lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new.Tho’ I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before,
I know I’ll often stop and think about them,
In my life I love you more.Tho’ I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before,
I know I’ll often stop and think about them,
In my life I love you more.In my life I love you more.
Bill Clinton to Hillary:
I want to feel your sweet embrace
But don’t take that paper bag off your face.
P.S.
Rubber Soul is better than Abbey Road
well it almost rhymes
Needs more cowbell (and verses) !
Mississippi queen
If you know what I mean
Mississippi queen
She taught me everything
Went down around Vicksburg
Around Louisiana way
Lived the Cajun lady
Aboard the Mississippi Queen
You know she was a dancer
She moved better on wine
While the rest of them dudes were gettin’ their kicks
Boy, I beg your pardon, I was gettin’ mine
Mississippi queen
If you know what I mean
Mississippi queen
She taught me everything
This lady she asked me
If I would be her man
You know that I told her
I’d do what I can
To keep her lookin’ pretty
Buy her dresses that shine
While the rest of them dudes were makin’ their friends
Boy, I beg your pardon, I was loosin’ mine
You know she was a dancer
She moved better on wine
While the rest of them dudes were gettin’ their kicks
Boy, I beg your pardon, I was gettin’ mine
Hey I didn’t write it but you’re right about the cowbell…a lost art form.
A Man Named Clyde
I splash some water on my face,
And go to meet the human race.
The race I meet is on a boat,
Which in this case is not afloat,
Beneath waves I do ride,
with but 80 sailors at my side.
So, let me tell you a story ’bout a man named Clyde,
He road on a submarine and damn near died.
We were snorklin’ along at 59 feet,
And his Fairbanks engines sounded mighty sweet.
And then a great big wave came out of the blue,
Closing the head valve and spilling our stew,
His Fairbanks diesels just sat there and drew,
They drew such a vacuum right out of the boat,
That it sucked your asshole clear to your throat.
Clyde let out a rage ’cause those engines
Were drawing as they shouldn’t be,
Pullin’ six inches of air out of you and me.
Know one knows what happened next,
People think Clyde had that circuit hexed.
All anyone remembers is them engines shut down,
And they picked big Clyde up off the ground.
Big Clyde.
(Engineman Clyde really did exist.)
Was the submarine yellow?!..
and would 80 sailors even fit inside of it? One mean fart by someone and it’s Damn the Torpedoes!
Nope, it was black but the effluent blown from our sh!t tanks every day at 04:30 was a yellowish brown.
Farts, cigarette and cigar smoke, dirty socks and underwear. One shower per week. All assaulting the nose regularly. You know what? You get over it.
And then starting at 03:00 every day, the night cook would bake bread, cinnamon rolls, cookies, etc. Filled the boat – heaven.
All just memories now.
There are faces I’d remember
‘Cuz my wife keeps things arranged.
Some familiar, not for better;
Others gone, I think they still remain.
All these faces had their moments
With leaders and friends I still can’t recall.
Some are dead and some are living,
In my life I fooled them all.
But of all these foolish people
There is not one I care for at all
And my speeches lose their meaning
When I speak off-script it gets off-the-wall
Tho’ I know I’ll never have any affection
For the people that I lied to before,
They all tried to make me stop this grand deception
But my wife, I loved her more.
Tho’ I know I’ll never have any affection
For the people that I lied to before,
They all tried to make me stop this grand deception,
In my life I loved Jill more.
In my life I loved her more.
Out on the road for forty days
Last night in Little Rock put me in a haze
Sweet, sweet Connie, doin’ her act
She had the whole show and that’s a natural fact
Up all night with Freddie King
I got to tell you, poker’s his thing
Booze and ladies, keep me right
As long as we can make it to the show tonight
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re comin’ to your town
We’ll help you party it down
We’re an American band
Four young chiquitas in Omaha
Waitin’ for the band to return from the show
Feelin’ good, feelin’ right, it’s Saturday night
The hotel detective, he was outta sight
Now these fine ladies, they had a plan
They was out to meet the boys in the band
They said, “Come on dudes, let’s get it on”
And we proceeded to tear that hotel down
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re comin’ to your town
We’ll help you party it down
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re comin’ to your town
We’ll help you party it down
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re comin’ to your town
We’ll help you party it down
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re an American band
We’re comin’ to your town
We’ll help you party it down
We’re an American band
We’re an American band, wooo
We’re an American band, wooo
We’re an American band, wooo