(Brooklyn’s inimitable Chris D. Butler recorded this and guided me through a simple piano part (I played piano!) and quasi-mastered the track “in-board” for me, begging me to get it done right – then I ineptly and jarringly substituted one word of revised, (bedroom-sung) lyrics because I can’t be both inaccurate and rude about the working class without losing all sense of myself. Sorry, Chris (and listeners), and thank you, Chris!!)
Rule by a fool isn’t cool, to be sure He couldn’t even say “nuclear” He talked like (and, well, okay, murdered) the poor Without ever enduring their fate Rule by the rulers as cool as to be That’s what we call “meritocracy” By ANYONE OTHER THAN YOU till I see Your embarrassment redden to hate I see your embarrassment redden to hate And now I’m in a
Blue Blue State I’m in a blue Blue State Without your love I am utterly blue What in the world do you want me to do no don’t answer that, it’s okay, really, no wait
I’m in a blue state
Hand in your land to a banker or king If you want it all squandered on gambling The banditry generally stand to the bling At an inverse proportional rate So swaddled in twaddle and pablum and puns In bubbles to match the financial ones With our knolwedge we play “Keep away” from the Huns From the barbarians at the gate And now there are barbarians at the gate Outside of my
Blue Blue state I’m in a blue Blue state Without your love I may be turning blue What in the world do you want me to do no no it’s okay, hang on, no really no wait:
Whether it’s breadth of the wallet or head Is how the “ocracy”‘s “merited” And which it’d be best to inherit instead To be master of everyone’s fate: Make of the hats or what’s under the hats? Plutocrats or Technocrats There was another word ended with that It was hang on, no it’s okay, really, no wait!
“Liberal” as literally “fit to be free” Rituals of sensitivity Tell us who’s meant in our presence to speak Or our young men and women to date So every four years we find out who prefers Their CEOs to their managers I guess we’re okay till the next one occurs and it’s “Darling, don’t say it’s too late” And it well might be “Darling, don’t say it’s too late” For me and my
Blue Blue state I’m in a blue Blue state
Okay: Your tolerance even for intellect falls The more the goddamned intellectuals Treat whether the unlettered Or poor should be culls As the meaning of all the debate
Forever is gonna take me to the stars. Forever is gonna wake me when the car’s arrived and started braking, every drive the court of a king. The lever with which I’ll terraform the world, no not this one you’d wanna share’ll be, from where I’m standing, Forever It’s where I’m from. I’LL RETURN TO KINGDOM COME COME COME COME COME While we burn I’m syncing Up with the quintillions coming Not eight bil with which I’m slumming Who come to nothing anyway So it had to be today It had to be today
Forever is gonna grab you when you fall “The Devil, You say, “there’s no invisible”, no hand on which I’m countin throwing my friend off the mountain The level you need to be deplatformed to, the not-quite-working class for you ‘cos, from the way it’s trending Forever is no place for scum: I’M THE KING OF KINGDOM COME COME COME COME COME My distinction is in all the pomp and the pageantry that an undiscovered country has for them as won’t de- lay So it had to be today AFTER ALL AFTER ALL ALL! ALL!! ALL.!!!
WHATEVER Is gonna keep me from the fires Forever is gonna sweep away the buyer’s remorse after the bubble, and the poor so deplorable INDIFFER- ENCE is what there is FOREVER of with HATE contemptible as LOVE from both their way of ending There never has been, in sum ANYWHERE BUT KINGDOM COME COME COME COME COME I can bear being and fending off the uninvited better than to serve outside it where the night’d never stay so it had to be today it had to be today. AFTER ALL … It had to be today.
That girl I gave my chauffeur (That girl I’m holding down) – She knows my game’s not over: You know I own this town. You don’t say “Lay hands off her:” You sigh and go to bed. It’s complicated, it’s complicated, it’s complicated The way you tolerate it
Those times I sicced my pitbull Upon those playground kids – “Gee I’m so sorry it pulled free: Don’t make a case of it.” You say “It’s not so simple: They’re always playing dead. It’s complicated. It’s complicated, it’s complicated!” the way you tolerate it:
“Some girls are not so decent! Shoot daggers from their eyes! It’s just a ‘he said, she said,” She should have to compromise, Or there can be no reset: Unlock the cellar door… Stop tearing off’ The _______ That We Can’t Find A Partner For.
That girl I gave my chauffeur Keeps Trying to Scratch his Face!!! Before that, it was “Oh, for Pete’s sake, won’t you clean the place.” But mostly it’s a “go” for That little thing you said: “It’s complicated.” “It’s complicated.” “It’s complicated.”
Your bill and someone paid it: Making your “we did” “they did” is Complicated.
Remember when they wouldn’t be spying, shutting down precrime with their prescience? Were we so evidently resigned, ready to see mi- croaggressions as no better than the military kind? Remember peacetime? – See above. Who wrote the ten Amendments to the Ten Commandments of Love?
Did unacknowledged legislators pray to a Hey Jude- iciary: “Is it okay how the Excec-u- tioner is now the judge and jury? If you’re worried you can leave poll queries at usa.gov – Who wrote the ten Amendments to the Ten Commandments of Love?
Commandment One, you’ll find no greater love before Me; Two: your TLDR convictions; Three: you’ll let you and your community be entertaining fictions; Four, Five: You will rest as you did with your mom and your dad the Queen and the King: All the rest: you will never murder our love – or anybody much, not while I’m [loo]king.
Did manufacturers of bromides manage our broken magna cartas saying “manumission was a thrill ride buddy but home is where the hardest and the most important part is, where it’s priorities come to shove.” Commandments of … Commandments of…
The hotter things are getting for us, blood’ll run more as Gordon Gecko’s – does Narcissus vanish in this puddle if there’ll be no more echoes as we heckle from the sofas, helplessly hope for Gorbachev – Who wrote the ten amendments to the Ten Commandments of Love? the Ten Commandments of Love? the Ten Commandments of Love?
My mom chose not to see the doctor: She swore she’d take a nap instead. My mom was stubborn, there’s nobody could have talked her Out of dying in bed. Our next decision would’ve shocked her, – Like either ought to Have won – But we’re calling it: No need to chart the speed we’re falling at: Decree or not their deed appalling that Move on Cthulhu Fhtagn
Our next decision who to war on – And how much more it’s gonna take? There’s only so much 911, and CPR, and Pleading loved ones awake Then days into life after Karin, Instead of Russia Iran. We’re calling it There’s only so old that we’re all gonna get What could have sold this as enthralling yet, Her son? Cthulhu Fhtagn
At last alone with her decision Determined drowning into sleep Long-contemplated lapse from our religion of “beep beep beep beep” &c.
Four score and something years are plenty Like any here will live that long If I’m still singing this long past two thousand twenty Then I’m possibly wrong Try telling your average cognoscenti They’re the deplorable one But we’re calling it What’s done is done and not for bawling at With everyone convinced it’s all been said And done Cthulhu, Chtulhu Fhtagn
Please little monkey, put down the gray banana: you found the gun key – Heaven has dropped this manna – you like your fun, keep letting what’s curious in a monkey have its head: Planet of the Dead Planet of the Dead
Alien races, they all avoid our planet – thinking it tasteless to come and do more than scan it, checking our faces, re-check their case list when a- rriving where it said “Planet of the Dead” “Planet of the Dead”
Were they mistaken? When they could see our planet surviving Reagan, somehow escaping Kenned -y and each time shaken – never again to do it: Somehow the safe end ending in our face each time we blew it –
Please little Monkey – put down the gray banana, a few more months please – another Age of Man, a- nother century, one precious year and then a- nother till you’re fed – another till you’re fed – another till you’re fed – please, Planet of the Dead
Now the Troglodytes return to the foundation And the gotta-be-rights concerned with nothing so much as miscegenation Between that nation And themselves And perturbations In the bedrock that noone delves Like the Troglodytes
Some of the foreigners like that fundamentalism And we have got an Enlightenment they can see is better yeah, but so far it isn’t Between those prisoners In their bays And the decision “Rob or bomb them right back to the days Of the Troglodytes”
Cos “we’ve gotta be fightin’ ’em there or be fightin’ ’em here” The very thought that we’re writing their recruitment flyers For them – faster than they can disappear And could be trading brawn for brains Might just require associating with the indigenous strains
So the Troglodytes are following a vision We maybe oughtta invite them into a light we’d share with them yeah but that’d mean religion And individua lism balks It will be stygian It will be stygian It will be dark In the place one finally talks to the Troglodytes
Slide guitar (and sound board): the magnificent Chris Butler