An examination on how the briefest of moments can not only inspire a podcast, but reframe and entire evening.
A new Las Vegas trip was booked this evening and I felt obliged to reminisce about Days of Future Pass Lines.
Of all the stream-of-consciousness rambles in all the world, hotcakes had to walk into mine.
Licorice tattoo turned a gun metal blue
Scrawled across the shoulders of a dying town
But the one eyed jacks across the railroad tracks
And the scar on its belly pulled a stranger passing through
He's a juvenile delinquent never learned how to behave
But the cops would never think to look in, in Burma Shave
And the road was like a ribbon and the moon was like a bone
He didn't seem to be like any guy she'd ever known
He kinda looked like Farley Granger with his hair slicked back
She says I'm a sucker for a fella in a cowboy hat
How far are you going he said depends on what you mean
He says I'm only stopping here to get some gasoline
I'm guess I'm going thataway just as long as it's paved
I guess you'd say I'm on my way to Burma Shave
And with her knees up on the glove compartment
She took out her barrettes and her hair spilled out like rootbeer
And she popped her gum and arched her back
Hell Marysville ain't nothing but a wide spot in the road
Some night my heart pounds like thunder
I don't know why it don't explode
cause everyone in this stinking town has got one foot in the grave
And I'd rather take my chances out in Burma Shave
Presley's what I go by, why don't you change the station
Count the grain elevators in the rearview mirror
She said Mister anywhere you point this thing
Has got to beat the hell out of the sting
Of going to bed with every dream that dies here every morning
And so drill me a hole with a barber pole
And I'm jumping my parole just like a fugitive tonight
Why don't you have another swig
And pass that car if you're so brave
I wanna get there before the sun comes up in Burma Shave
And the spider web crack and the Mustang screamed
Smoke from the tyres and the twisted machine
Just a nickel's worth of dreams and every wishbone that they saved
Lies swindled from them on the way to Burma Shave
And the sun hit the derrick and cast a bat wing shadow
Up against the car door on the shot gun side
And when they pulled her from the wreck
You know she still had on her shades
They say that dreams are growing wild just this side of Burma Shave
Okay... so I went a little bit off on these so-called "liners" who must see everything midnight of the day before everyone else sees it.
From a self-effacing admission of the true depths of my laziness to a rather inconsequential, yet poignant, realization of the folly of youth.
