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One of my shortest song titles ever? A right corker of a title as well.


We're getting along in years
Not so much in person
But honey, dry your tears
It'll only take five more beers
To cut the tension in the air between us, so
We're coming along just fine

You've got a long, long list
And I my long, long ladder
But I've got two strong fists
For such a foolish songstress
And you stare with those idle eyes
But there's nothing to see here--
Move it along

Or prove me wrong
Make all my best nightmares come true
For all the shit I get from you
You're not giving me much to work with
Or am I doing it wrong?
I don't do much
I think too much
And you taint everything you touch
And I started out far from perfect

So sing me a song
And if you're going somewhere with this
Bring me along

You've forgotten I'm a idiot
And I just don't understand
It's a burden and a pity but it's true
And from where I'm sitting
This is getting out of hand
But I am willing to take it much further than you

And I've got thick, thick skin
Your weaponry is useless
So you can see what a pickle you're in
The flood slows to a trickle
I win again and retain my title of grand champion
Which I've held for a long, long time

And then the unpleasantness begins
You act and I feel foolish
The butterflies and shaking shins
The feeling of taking it on the chin
The baroque blow-by-blow
And the roccoco afterglow
I've seen it all
So I don't mind

Yeah, I'm doing fine
It's all the same old song and dance
You can pout and cast a longing glance
But you can't dissuade me
So give me a sign
That there's a part of your pure heart
That can finish what you start
C'mon, draw your sword and slay me

Or sing me a song
And when it reaches its crescendo
Ring the alarm

Bring it on
And if I'm not content to let go
String me along


from Yes Boss, released June 9, 2008
(c) Graham Smith, Thayer McClanahan, Ryan Smith, Mike Fadem


all rights reserved



Kleenex Girl Wonder New York, New York

A prolific songwriter, a cracking tight independent indie rock band for live entertainment, and a fine art parody magazine about what computers think about human thoughts about their fine art

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