Shot Three, You’re Done?
(tune: Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Norworth & Von Tilzer (1908))
Take me out to the clinic
Take me out in that crowd
Line us up six feet apart
We all know this part by heart
Let me boost, boost, boost with the vaccine
If that don’t work, try again
For it’s one, two, three shots you’re done
‘Til the next CO-VID strain
For earlier shots/songs:
Shot 1:
COVID Vaccine Dues
Shot 2:
I'm Free
Thanksgiving Prayer
Empty out your horn of plenty
When you count your blessings many.
Dig down deep and then go deeper
To thank the giving bookkeeper.
Put aside any pile of woe --
Accept the to, ignore the fro.
Tomorrow you can fret again --
Today, say thanks and then amen.
Monday Morning Quarterback
(tune: Sunday Morning Coming Down,
Kris Kristofferson (1969)
sung by Johnny Cash)
Well, I wake up Monday morning
With no part of my body that doesn’t hurt.
And I feel a need for a beer so bad
But Coach says I gotta eat yoghurt.
Then I think about six sacks yesterday
And I still taste the turf and dirt.
Then I turn on the television set
And force myself to watch the game replay.
I’d tried my best the day before
With plays but nobody I was tricking.
I took the hike and watched them come at me
And soon our punter was again kicking.
Then they’d drive and score a touchdown
And I’d go back out for my next licking.
Then I could sit back on the bench
Thinkin’ I lost someway, somehow, again today.
Oh, a Sunday football defeat,
It can make me feel all alone.
Who else is there to take the blame
When my blockers leave me on my own?
And there is no use for crying
At twenty-five yards for first down.
I know the blitz is coming
And I will soon be on the ground.
At the park I saw a daddy
With his eager little son he’d brought to see
His first hometown pro football game
And I could hear them both booing me.
Oh, why do I play this game
When on every down for my life I must flee?
And it’s dragging down my career
Like my disappearing dreams of yesterday.
Oh, a Sunday football defeat,
It can make me feel all alone.
Who else is there to take the blame
When my blockers leave me on my own?
And there is no use for crying
At twenty-five yards for first down.
I know the blitz is coming
And I will soon be on the ground.
I Can Get to Work Now
(tune: I Can See Clearly Now,
by Johnny Nash (1972))
I can get to work now, the rain is gone,
I can see all the fallen leaves in my yard
Gone are the dark clouds that had me inside
It's gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright) Leaf-Raking day.
It's gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright) Leaf-Raking day.
I think I can rake it now, the pain is gone
All of the back achings have disappeared
Here is the clear day I've been waiting for
It's gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright) Leaf-Raking day.
Look all around, there's nothin' but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothin' but blue skies.
I did get to work now, the pain is back,
I still have many fallen leaves in my yard
But gone are the huge piles that I made
It was a long (long), so long (long) day.
I’m gonna need a long (long), so long (long) Bone-Resting day.
I’m gonna need a long (long), so long (long) Bone-Resting day.
World Philosophy Day
When the world grants me my life’s trophy,
Will it be for my love of -sophy?
For a wit of wisdom I created?
For an unspoken truth I stated?
If all of the world needed to share
The output which philosophers bear,
Would not all the debates soon be closed
And nothing new ever be exposed?
Each their own philosophy to choose,
My own idiosophy to use --
Does it matter whether you agree
If my thoughts do (or not) work for me?
It is not products we need to love,
But the pondering process thereof.
We learn when we philosophize
And that’s truly our collective prize.
Take Us There, Country Roads
(tune: Take Me Home, Country Roads,
Denver & Danoff (1971))
Down the East coast, to Florida,
through the mountains, over the rivers;
Life on the road, driving by the trees,
rolling down the windows, feeling the cool breeze.
Country roads, take us there
on a trip that’s so long
Interstate highways, state routes also,
Country roads, take us there
All previous trips went there by air,
Two hop plane flights, routed through JFK.
Dark departure, head out by taxi,
Afternoon arrival, sailing through the sky.
Country roads, take us there
on a trip that’s so long
Interstate highways, state routes also,
Country roads, take us there
We hear the voice of our GPS,
She tells us, her messages remind us
Of the routes yet to go.
And driving down the road our rears can feel
We won’t be there ‘til the day after tomorrow
Country roads, take us there
on a trip that’s so long
Interstate highways, state routes also,
Country roads, take us there
Country roads, take us there
on a trip that’s so long
Interstate highways, state routes also,
Country roads, take us there
Take us there, our country's roads
Take us there, our country's roads
Putt, Putt
(tune: Beep, Beep, Winn & Joyce,
Sung by The Playmates (1958))
While shooting at my country club, what to my surprise
A guy with a putter was following me, about one-half my size
The guy must have wanted to show me up
As he matched my every shot.
I’ll show him that I am the pro and he is not so hot.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
His shots were all putt-putts.
I pulled my two wood from my bag to drive down the fairway
But that little guy used his putter off the tee;
He still hit one far away.
He must have thought he had the best stuff
As he matched my every shot.
I’ll show him that I am the pro and he is not so hot.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
His shots were all putt-putts.
My sand wedge was my chosen club
And I took careful aim
I lift the ball ninety yards --
Show’m how to play this game
Inside three feet, I looked back from the green
I couldn't believe my eyes
The little putter guy let fly his shot
And closer his ball lies.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
His shots were all putt-putts.
With my seven I teed off next par three
And I laid in an ace
But the guy stepped up with his putter --
He kept up to my pace
The guy must have wanted to show me up
As he matched my every shot.
I’ll show him that I am the pro and he is not so hot.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
His shots were all putt-putts.
At the par four, I hit farther than ever before
And I was on in one
The guy and his putter hit his shot --
He matched what I had done
After we each sank our eagles,
The guy asked as I moved away,
“Hey, Buddy, could you lend me a club?
I broke this one yesterday.”
Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
Putt, putt. Putt, putt. Putt, putt.
In the Glow of the Golden Sun
(tune: By the Light of the Silvery Moon,
Madden & Edwards (1909))
In the glow of the golden sun
Let’s have some fun.
Out in the sun, we’ll shun no one.
Just have fun, keep a-playing ‘til done.
Those golden rays will last for days.
We’ll be on the run
In this golden sun.
Place, pool, scene cool.
Golden sun is peeking through the clouds
Cast, two. Me, you.
In lounge chairs just watching the crowds.
Act one, begun
Dialog, would you like to putt-putt?
Say when. Now then.
Let’s go, we got stuff to strut.
In the glow of the golden sun
We’ve had our fun.
Out in the sun, we shunned no one.
Just had fun, kept a-playing ‘til done.
Those golden rays have lasted for days.
We’re going home soon
From this golden sun.
Act two, scene new.
Sunrise still hours before it will glow.
Cast three. You, me
The car, all packed up ready to go.
Gas, check. Flex neck.
Highway, it’s time to head back up north.
Trip done. ‘Twas fun.
There’s a back for every forth.
Bye to the glow of the golden sun
We had our fun.
Out in the sun, we shunned no one.
Just had fun, kept a-playing ‘til done.
Those golden rays did last for days.
We will be home soon
From that golden sun.
