Posted on 03/09/2012 7:27:08 PM PST by reed13k
Jon and Vangelis
From the Album “Fiends of Mr Cairo”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJzahwl9BRI&feature=related
What is the genre?
Soory - that should be Friends of Mr. Cairo (not fiends)
That definitely needs to be in this thread. Amos Milburn also did a lot of good drinking songs.
That wasn’t it BUT you gave me the artist the one I was looking for is ‘Life in the slaw lane’ by Kip Addotta. Free Republic rules again! FReepers Rule! Whoo Hooo! Finally! Thank you!
Yeah, I hadn’t heard that one before, but I noticed it a couple minutes later. Glad to help.
Yep thanks again
Dude, you’re something. Have you written a book?
I’ve actually written dozens of articles for school textbooks, but not on the subject of music.
We differ, as far as taste, but then, any two people do. Still you seem to have encyclopedic knowledge of it, and that’s what I admire.
Here’s a question for you (not a challenge): Do you remember Bobby Scott (hint: of Columbia Records)?
Yeah, he doesn’t get any recognition any more, but I love his stuff. One of the all-time great blues piano players too, he created a certain style of playing slow blues that most piano players after him copied.
I have to go return some videotapes.
Don’t stare at it...eat it.
Al...you smell like shit!
Get a job Al!
I’m into murders and executions...
I had forgotten about Genesis so thanks for pointing it out. I love Phil Collins too, but my point was that just because you were a singer or actor etc., your political views are not that relevant unless you are still in the political scene and have a working knowledge of current events. Wack-A-Mole pop-up attention-getters are irrelevant to the issue.
If Gabriel doesn’t want his song used by Rush, so be it. However, I had a hard time remembering what he sang until this FR article. Sledgehammer was an interesting song but I don’t rank it up with any of the betters songs of that era.
Does anyone remember the words to Tom Waite’s song about “dancing on the table?” Again, a nice song but it’s way back on the jukebox list.
I had to explain to my granddaughter that her tshirt which said the “Bird is the word” came from a song by the Trashmen back in the 60’s, if I remember correctly. She had no idea that the song existed. She’s of the “Angry Birds” generation so I had to teach her a little music history.
Amazing how many songs you can remember and forget after 56 years. Genesis I remember; Gabriel, not so much.
“Sususudio”
My thoughts exactly.
It was Cucumber the first; summer was over.
I had just spinached a long day and I was busheled.
I’m the kinda guy that works hard for his celery and I don’t mind telling you I was feeling a bit wilted.
But I didn’t carrot all. ‘Cause, otherwise, things were vine.
I try never to disparagus and I don’t sweat the truffles.
I’m outstanding in my field and I know something good will turnip eventually.
A bunch of things were going grape, and soon, I’d be top banana.
At least, that’s my peeling.
But that’s enough corn; lend me your ear and lettuce continue:
After dressing, I stalked on over to the grain station.
I got there just in lime to catch the nine-elemon as it plowed toward the core of Appleton,
a lentil more than a melon-and-a-half Yeast of Cloveland.
CHORUS
Life in the slaw lane.
They say plants can’t feel no pain.
Life in the slaw lane.
I’ve got news for you:
They’re just as frail as you.
No one got off at Zucchini, so we continued on a rutaBaga.
Passing my usual stop, I got avoCado.
I hailed a passing Yellow Cabbage and told the driver to cart me off to Broccolyn.
I was going to meet my brother across from the eggplant where he had a job at the Saffron station pumpkin gas.
As soon as I saw his face, I knew he was in a yam.
He told me his wife had been raisin cane. Her name was Peaches:
a soiled but radishing beauty with HUGE goards.
My brother had always been a chestnut, but I could neve figured out why she picked him.
He was a skinny little string bean who had always suffered from cerebral parsley.
It was in our roots.
Sure, we had tried to weed it out, but the problem still romained.
He was used to having a tough row to how, but it irrigated me to see Artichoke,
and it bothered my brother to see his marriage going to seed.
CHORUS
Like most mapled couples, they had a lot of grilling to do.
Sure, they’d sown their wild oats, but just barley if you peas.
Finally, Peaches had given him an ultomato. She said, “I’m hip to your chive,
and you don’t stop smoking that herb, I’m gonna leaf ya for Basil, ya fruit!”
He said he didn’t realize it had kumquat so far.
Onion other hand, even though Peaches could be the pits, I knew she’d never call the fuzz.
CHORUS
So I said, “Hay, we’re not farm from the Mushroom! Let’s walk over.”
He said, “That’s a very rice place. That’s the same little bar where alfalfa my wife!”
When we got there, I pulled up a cherry and tried to produce small talk.
I told him I haven’t seen Olive; not since I shelled off for a trip to Macadamia when I told her, “We cantaloupe.”
The time just wasn’t ripe.
She knew what I mint.
When we left the Mushroom, we were pretty well-juiced.
I told Arti to say hello to the boysenBerry and that I’d orange to see him another thyme.
Well, it all came out in the morning peppers:
Arti caught Peaches that night with Basil, and Arti beat Basil bad,
leaving him with two beautiful acres.
Peaches? She was found in the garden; she’d been pruned.
CHORUS
Well, my little story is okra now.
Maybe it’s small potatoes. Me? Idaho.
My name? Wheat. My friends call me “Kernel”.
And that’s life in the slaw lane.
Thank you so mulch.
CHORUS
It’s a garden out there!
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