You once said:
My dreams are like a TV in my head.
I said do they come with a remote?
You didn't think it was funny.
I laughed so hard I peed.
So you ran away to the circus
Low pay, high wire,
single wide trailer home but, you got
all the popcorn and hot dogs you could eat.
They let you ride the elephants;
you were content.
I've never been contented; I don't allow it;
I think contentment is for cows.
And that is no bull.
You wrote and said you were coming back,
to seek reconciliation.
I said we never were conciliated to start-
How could we do it again?
You hitched a ride during off-season,
with twenty-three clowns, in a VW bug.
The car broke down in Rockford, Illinois.
I have some distant relatives there
So, I drove down to lend a hand,
because of the theory of relativity.
I figured I'd murder an avian duet
As long as I had me one stone.
I found you at the side of the road
in a construction zone on Route 45;
They been repairing that strip of road
since back in nineteen fifty-sex.
You were painted in stage makeup,
Standing twenty-first in line.
I bought you a ticket to Omaha
I headed to Washington AC and DC
(For very current rock and roll)
I think about you now and then,
and never forget to remember,
Our romance will always be, in memory:
TV stations; bus stations; destinations;
all our reservations; and you, stranded
on US Highway forty-five,
in a tiny car full of clowns.
... Thank you; thank you vera much
Elvis has never been in this building
That motherfucker is dead.
No comments:
Post a Comment