Wednesday, December 16, 2020

"The Sound of One Hand Writing" a song minus music

The next three entries are from my song collection, minus music since I have no capability of providing such.

You know the saying that you can’t un-see certain things? The following words, once read, might fall into that category.

I’m still on my John Prine-ish (if that isn’t heresy) binge. 

Hopefully, this will be the end of my moving in this direction. If not, an intervention, followed by a 12 step group, might be required. Or a shunning.


I got a woodpecker in my pants

some mistake it for a fer-de-lance

it makes my legs sway to and fro

although both my feet flatly say no

 

I’m stuck with a pair of alligator arms

don’t worry, they’ll do ya no harm

And the eyes I own aren’t the same size

On the beauty way, I’ll win no prize

 

(Chorus) We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

 

My disks are each fully fragmented

still in place, yes, but slightly dented

biting into moon pies makes me giggle

when I get up, my thighs they wiggle

 

I need to minimize my gluteus max

ain’t all diets a personal sin-tax?

lost count adding up my multiple chins

Let’s call it a maximizing of all my skin

 

We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

 

My nose knows what’s fingerlickin’ good

food tasting should be my livelihood

In my boyhood I was just misunderstood

Not too many spark plugs under my hood

 

Some call me a friggin’ human hammerhead

poundin’ roofing nails are my butter and bread

my head is now just one huge cranial cavity

my biceps theys inverted but I think its gravity

 

We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

 

You know my toes, they refuse to twinkle

when it come to snorin’ I’m Rip Van Winkle

my pecs been the victim of some kidnapping

I’m a piss poor candidate for chromosome mapping

 

The few muscles in me are the slow twitch kind

I’m disinclined to ever seek peace of mind

nobodys ever asked me to pee in a cup

cause my human algorithm has never added up

 

We have our bodies til death do us part

I think mine was assembled a la carte

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