There once was bobabezine
That slodda dee focus or line?
And burger da beep
Chodda wodda ga meep?
Soda wamegla SWEET CAROLINE!
There once was bobabezine
That slodda dee focus or line?
And burger da beep
Chodda wodda ga meep?
Soda wamegla SWEET CAROLINE!
Filed under Poems
Turns out makin’ music doesn’t mean makin’ money.
That was no news to me, but was news to my honey.
When a man gets poor it’ll do something funny
To almost all the female ears!
When the cashflow slows in the time that you date ‘er
Like the tempo that jazz plays in the elevator
Then don’t be surprised, and do anticipate ‘er
Not boppin’ you for quite a few years!
Yeah, I do remember the times in the twenties
When a man could bop all night long,
But come year ’30 we ain’t playin’ too dirty
And a depression is comin’ on strong!
I’m no type of teacher, but you oughta be knowin’
Where this job playin’ jazzes is probably goin’…
Come late at night you’ll be the only one blowin’.
Sorry bro, but them is the fac’s.
Better practice your ‘prov and practice your scales, especially for playin’ the blues…
Between big simple cash and a big cymbal crash you know what a woman will choose…
The little metals guys who hold your keys in place will be the only thing that she screws…
That’s life when she’s withholding the sax!
Filed under Poems
If you play songs
In a rock and roll band
That includes no member
With a mammary gland,
Everyone has Y chromosomes
And speaks in few words
Then you might be a band
But you’re sure not The Birds…
Filed under Poems
All is well while you’re singing
Until your realize
Mary will eventually have a big sheep
Unless one of them dies…
And yet we have been singing this
Since time itself was made.
Do the Mary’s keep swapping
Or was a sweater made?
Filed under Poems
I was born in Colorado,
Learned my talkin’ in Kentucky,
Grew up in Northwest Washington
Which, although American, is Canucky.
Now a man who makes a living
Rhyming mediocre comedy
I lie in bed listening to the sounds
Of patriotic hymns from Ireland.
My heart’s in Limerick,
My mind’s in Dublin,
My eyes see Antrims and see Galways!
I am in a kilt
(Yes, I know that’s Scotland)
And I’ll praise green, white, and orange for always!
Then the youtube algorithm
Plays me “God Defend New Zealand”
And the Maori spirit rips the kilt away
And I walk with hobbits in the free land!
Misty mountains, patriotic,
Connect two hemispheres within me…
That’s until I hear the opening chords
Of the Russian anthem start to win me.
Now Haggis, Borscht, Poutine, and Kiwis
Are all chicken-fried in my spirit
And I only wish that the Star-Spangled Banner
Were a song that made me want to hear it.
Filed under Poems
Sometimes you park your car
Just when a song starts playing
And you sing along, now knowing
That your plans are worth delaying.
For some folks it’s the Beatles,
And for some the Rolling Stones.
For me it’s Wagner’s Ring Cycle
Which is why I’m a pile of bones.
Filed under Poems
Some evenings I sit in darkness
Playing a sad song on repeat
With a pillow on my head
And a blanket on my feet.
I’m don’t feel sad
Though I am devoid of laughter;
I feel sad because I hate
The song that plays right after.
Filed under Poems
“I’ve got a song for you Billy,”
The executive told Mr. Joel.
“It’s a song for the sad, lonely everyman
“And the pianist has a prominent role.”
“Sounds pretty fly,” Mr. Joel said,
“And I have but one simple request:
“I think we’ll have one short piano bit
“And let harmonica guy do the rest.”
Filed under Poems