what amazes me is that The Tragically Hip had long ago predicted this . . .
bourbon blues on the stree,
loose and complete under skies all smokey blue-green
i can’t forsake a dixie dead-shake so we danced the sidewalk clean
my memory is muddy, what’s this river that i’m in? new orleans is sinking man and i don’t wanna swim
colonel tom. what’s wrong? what’s going on? you can tie yourself up for a deal
he said, “hey north you’re south shut you big mouth, you gotta do what you feel is real”
ain’t got no picture postcards, ain’t got no souvenirs my baby, she don’t know me when I’m thinking bout those years
pale as a light bulb
hanging on a wire
sucking up to someone just to stoke the fire
picking out the highlights of the scenery
saw a little cloud that looked a little like me
i had my hands in the river my feet back up on the banks looked up to the lord above and said, “hey man thanks”
sometimes i feel so good, i gotta scream she said gordie baby i know exactly what you mean she said, she said, i swear to god she said…
my memory is muddy what’s this river that i’m in? new orleans is sinking mand and i don’t wanna swim . . .