martedì, novembre 27, 2007

He seems to like me

Conference today. I'm not a proponent of getting high for work but I'd get shit-eyed for this one, except I have to go to the office in the afternoon to wrap up some deadline stuff. Mistress La Spliffe is feeling that she just can't win these days, I'm afraid. It's a little absurd - I have money, love, friendship, a great bike, best reefer of my life, a job I have to think about - everything but sunshine and free time, really. And while those are key, I get impatient with my funks when about 2 billion people would kill to trade places with me. Back when I was in analysis, my analyst used to tell me such thoughts were useless. But I'm not paying for that sort of reassurance anymore.

So how's about some Tom Waits? Googling the lyrics to 'Cold Water' is easier than finding my Yeats collection on those disastrous bookshelves and I desperately need a little lyricism today. Maybe something to remind me as well that my only relationship with freeways is being chauffeured down them.

Well I woke up this morning
With the cold water
With the cold water
With the cold water
Woke up this morning
With the cold water
With the cold water
With the cold

Police at the station
And they don't look friendly
Well they don't look friendly
Well they don't look friendly
Police at the station
And they don't look friendly
They don't look friendly well
They don't

Blind or crippled
Sharp or dull
I'm reading the Bible
By a 40 watt bulb
What price freedom
Dirt is my rug
Well I sleep like a baby
With the snakes and the bugs

Well the stores are open
But I ain't got no money
I ain't got no money
Stores are open but I
Ain't got no money
Ain't got no money
Well I ain't

Found an old dog
And he seems to like me
Seems to like me
Well he seems to like me
Found an old dog and he
Seems to like me
Seems to like me
Well he seems

Seen them fellows
with the card board signs
Scrapin up a little $
To buy a bottle of wine
Pregnant women and
The Vietnam vets I say
Beggin on the freeway
Bout as hard as it gets

Well I slept in the graveyard
It was cool and still
Cool and still
It was cool and still
Slept in the graveyard
It was cool and still
Cool and still and it
Was cool

Slept all night in the Cedar grove
I was born to ramble
Born to rove
Some men are searchin for the
Holy Grail
But there ain't nothin sweeter
Than ridin the rails

I look 47 but I'm 24
Well they shooed me away
From here the time before
Turned there their backs
And they locked their doors
I'm watching T.V. in
The window of a furniture store

Well I woke up this morning
With the cold water
With the cold water
With the cold water
Woke up this morning
With the cold water
With the cold water
With the cold

1 commento:

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