OPEN ALL HOURS
Caught without an idea
Alive in livedness
Covers her breasts and crotch
Love requires no labels
Attacks or defences
Its nature is boundless
Audrey Dawn – The Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister suggested I address myself to meeting this challenge. Two difficulties arise: I. as long time readers will know, I have already posted a number of my favourites so they aren’t eligible; 2. I am by necessity limited to tracks which are freely available on line. In retaliation I decided not to further restrain myself to sticking solely to tracks with lyrics.
4. Dr. Strangely Strange -Donnybrook Fair.
The lyrics can be found at http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/d/dr_strangely_strange/donnybrook_fair.html. Once again I believe there may a couple of errors in what is printed here.
AN ENLIGHTENING DAY AT THE BOOK FESTIVAL
Having followed his writing career from its beginnings I knew his public readings and signings are rare. So imagine my excitement when I heard he was coming. He read a passage from his latest and then invited questions. The quality of these varied widely, as expected; but his responses? Flabbergasted! They were uniformly lacking in moment and often even sense. That insight, that wisdom; it had all been simply projection on my part. My cherished books now not signed, binned and that bitter taste in my mouth made me reflect on the old saw: you should never meet your heroes.
OHNE WÖRTER (FLOWER SERMON TANKA)
I picked a flower
Twirled it between my fingers
Sat waiting, smiling
Till it divulged its secret
But it just withered and died
I TOLD YOU THERE’S NO ONE THERE
Some folks on the road to heaven
Are tempted to go astray.
All knew Parson Brown was one of these,
And golf what he wanted to play.
For he was only human.
But his flock didn’t see it that way.
“A vicar succumbing while we’re around?
Say, that’ll be the day!”
So every time he drove past the course
He saw the windows wide
And knew well that his stern parishioners
Were watching from the other side.
His frustration raged within him
Till he woke one morning at five.
The weather was fine and they were all asleep
As he crept down to the drive.
He quickly made his way to the course
And headed out for the first green,
Chuckling at the thought of what he was doing
And all without being seen.
But he’d forgotten the Angel Michael,
Who roused God from his forty winks
And said, “Wake up, Sire, it’s Parson Brown
And he’s out there on’t links!”
“Then I must punish him,” said God.
“As you know, it’s my wont with men.
And I promise you one thing, Michael;
That he won’t do this again!”
The vicar meanwhile was teeing off
In the early morning sun
But what a surprise he got when he found
That he’d scored a hole in one.
“Lord have mercy,” he exclaimed,
“Mercy upon my soul.”
But he’d even stronger language
When it happened at the second hole.
He went on to complete his hat trick;
Such golfing must astound.
The only man in history
To achieve an eighteen stroke round.
Even Michael, who’d watched the whole thing,
Couldn’t quite take it all in.
“But … but … but …” he spluttered to God,
“Tell me, how will THAT punish his sin?”
A wicked smile traversed God’s face,
And he answered, “Extremely well.
You and I may know what happened
But who can Parson Brown tell?”
Note that both God and Michael have broad Yorkshire accents.