Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Song For Hank Williams, Sr.

the haunted ones

i drove on by the taco stand that stood on 13th street
i could smell the sour cream and all the sour meat
i turned my head in wonder when something i did spy
i saw the ghost of my ex-wife who had not even died

she flashed a toothy grin at me, and waved her little hand
her eyes did sparkle like the sea that falls on whitest sand
then in a flash she vanished and did not leave a trace
a midnight ghost at two p.m. with shadows on her face

(chorus)
oh, why do you haunt me
why do you care
i was a crummy husband
i was barely there
the years have passed in sorrow
i cannot change the past
my dear beloved sweet ex-wife
was gaining on my ass

i turned right and headed south, down to division street
i parked the car and waited, and slumped down in my seat
sure enough the ghost came back, she was sitting behind me
she stared ahead in silence, and that really made me freak

my pulse was at a thousand, my heart came out my chest
i shook in fear and trembled and tried to catch my breath
i turned so i could face her, but she was no longer there
yet in the mirror i could see her face and feel her icy stare

(chorus)
oh, why do you haunt me
why do you care
i was a crummy husband
i was barely there
the years have passed in sorrow
i cannot change the past
my dear beloved sweet ex-wife
was gaining on my ass

i started up my metal crypt and took a ghostly ride
i headed out to Canby where my dear ex-wife resides
i pulled up to the farmhouse and marched up to the door
full of tears and the regrets of years, feelin' mighty poor

i yelled up to the bedroom for her to come on down
i had something to show her that i had brought from town
at first she didn't answer, she waited silently
i asked her to remove her ghost and please to let me be

(chorus)
oh, why do you haunt me
why do you care
i was a crummy husband
i was barely there
the years have passed in sorrow
i cannot change the past
my dear beloved sweet ex-wife
was gaining on my ass

she stepped out on the porch real slow, and then she passed me by
she went up to the car and then her ghost let out a sigh
the door she then did open, out stepped the her she used to be
the two of them joined forces, the rest is history

she came at me in thunder, with lightning and black rain
she revealed a shotgun, on my knees I then did pray
i apologized for all my ways, it was my last apology
she blew my brains into the sky and let my soul go free

(chorus)
oh, why do you haunt me
why do you care
i was a crummy husband
i was barely there
the years have passed in sorrow
i cannot change the past
my dear beloved sweet ex-wife
was gaining on my ass

when the living come to haunt you, the dead must take a hike
if they had a union they would vote for all to strike
but if the living do the jobs of those who are deceased
it's up to us, the haunted ones, to finally rest in peace

++++

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5 Comments:

At 11:16 AM, Blogger Aaron Kinney said...

Ive got a good solution to the immigration problem that vexes you so. Lets collectivize the farming industry and abolish all privately owned farm property. Then lets make it illegal for anyone to grow crops or livestock on land that is not federally owned.

THAT will eliminate the desire of migrants to come to America.

Wont you be happy then? Youll have only one bread store, and youll have to wait in line for hours for a loaf, and you wont be able to post pics of you on the beach anymore because youll always be waiting in line for food and shoes and the like, but at the lines will only be full of WHITE people, which will make you happy! :-)

 
At 7:05 PM, Blogger MJS said...

Thanks for dropping by, Aaron. This post was a song dedicated to Hank Williams, Sr.

++++

 
At 11:06 PM, Blogger SeattleDan said...

Thanks, Aaron, for your insight Of course those of us on the Left, would think that it would be great not to have brown people picking our food. Who knows what they've been doing to it. In the meantime, Woody had something to say about the situation:

Plane Wreck At Los Gatos (Deportee)

The crops are all in and the peaches are rott'ning,
The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;
They're flying 'em back to the Mexican border
To pay all their money to wade back again

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria;
You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane,
All they will call you will be "deportees"

My father's own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he made in his life;
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the truck till they took down and died.

Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
Our work contract's out and we have to move on;
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border,
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

We died in your hills, we died in your deserts,
We died in your valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we died just the same.

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills,
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, "They are just deportees"

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name except "deportees"?

 
At 12:20 PM, Blogger Aaron Kinney said...

In all seriousness, national boundaries are imaginary and arbitrary lines drawn only to create differences where none exist.

A am just as much an immigrant if I move across the street as someone who moves from El Salvador to San Diego.

But I think that MJS, SeattleDan, and myself all agree on that part.

What we don't agree on is how to solve the xenophobia problem. SeattleDan and MJS think that the solution is through government. I think that the solution is to eradicate government and these imaginary national boundaries.

I believe that my solution is far more logical, and would be far more effective.

 
At 5:10 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey--

Good song.

--Oscar

 

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