Writing tunes allows one to construct Saviours.
Yes, in truth, “bliss is a pithy myth”, but if I ever meet her there will be a seminal event of explosive off-the-chart-ness.
Q: So, what’s the song, like, about?
A: Well, for starts, a dearth of vowels in stupid goddamn Hebrew.
Q: For that you need an Angel?
A: I didn’t claim to be normative; and yeah, at least someone to understand the utter depth of the hole I live in.
Q: And ‘John Deere’?
A: Ok, That verse is simple word-play. Amy will likely at least chuckle. I die to see her smile…
Q: And the ‘A mighty Fortress’ steal?
A: General malaise; what does religion even mean anymore in a country like the USA where folks have got vowels piled in the aisles?
Q: Think you’ll ever meet her?
A: Not too probable. I’ve waited 39 years and 119 days now for a Second Coming. All I can do is hope and pine for her.
Anyway, we all likely seek a special Understanding Angel. In the person of a winged creature…. or even from discovering that the the supermarket now carries our favorite Philly cream cheese or ‘Goldfish’.
Like with ‘Rosebud, I’ll probably learn someday that the buyer for the chain was named ‘Amy'(!) So much for pathos.
-Phone robot message-
Amy, oh Amy, Oh my Amy:
Just aim me homeward
Where the vowels lay in piles in the aisles
And a rose is a rose, not a ‘ruse’
and there’re rows of ’em
Raising their spirits, a reason to rise
Every morning I feel more like mourning here
Mortgage is bondage
I bagged up my baggage
My luggage was lost by El Al
So I make-do with roughage
Women only want sufferage
Men just want coverage…
John Deers are green
Though the hue’s got detractors
Farmall’s too formal
for a number of factors
Dearborn’s been been born again
Skokie’s got Voltaire in a manger scene
posing with reindeer(?)
Been wondering: ‘Why are we here?
I’ll ask Amy; an’then I’ll get back to you
Bliss is a pithy myth
That much I know
No, no body was home when I called
so I left her this message; we’re back to the top
Oh my Amy!