Most of my writing these days is along the lines of contemplative journaling, and although there may be nuggets in it that could see the light of day in some format or context, this is not it. So I’ll offer the lyrics of another of my songs. I think that’s what I’ll do for awhile in lieu of overt political observations. I will note that it is supposed to snow tonight, which isn’t entirely out of the ordinary for March in lowland Cascadia, but does it seem like about the 20th distinct time it has snowed this winter in Portland.
This one is “A Funny Thing Happened”, from June 2007.
A Funny thing happened on my way back home
last night.
I ran into a man selling flowers made of silver,
clay and copper, frankincense and myrrh.
I bought a bouquet of shining silver,
one of red, and one of black.
One because I love you,
One because I need you,
One for how you smiled when you broke my back.
A funny thing happened on my way to your house
Today.
I ran into a crowd, gathered ’round a preacher
who said that Armageddon has already come and gone.
I dropped the flowers as she led us to the river,
Altogether
we waded in.
It was warm like blood,
the blood of the Dragon.
Now I know
I’m born again (and again and again)
I left the flowers there in the garden
next to the river where we all lay down
I will not give them,
you will not get them
but there’s a million more like them
for the taking on the ground.
A funny thing happened on my way back home
Last night
