Friday, July 14, 2006
Please tell me the piano has been drinking, not me...
The piano has been drinking,
my necktie is asleep,
and the combo went back to New York,
the jukebox has to take a leak.
So Tom Waits is coming to Detroit next month.
Said roar, roar, the thunder and the roar
Son of a bitch is never coming back here no more
The moon in the window and a bird on the pole
We can always find a millionaire to shovel all the coal.
Tom fucking Waits! This is a guy who doesn't tour. He hasn't been here in something like 20 years.
I don't wanna have to shout it out.
I don't want my hair to fall out.
I don't wanna be filled with doubt.
I don't wanna be a good boy scout.
I don't wanna have to learn to count.
I don't wanna have the biggest amount.
I don't wanna grow up.
The tickets went on sale today at 10 am.
I will leave behind all of my clothes I wore when i was with you,
all I need's my railroad boots and my leather jacket,
as i say goodbye to Ruby's arms, although my heart is breaking,
i will steal away out through your blinds, for soon you will be waking.
I logged onto Ticketmaster, and got a pair of balcony tickets. So I called Nicole and told her. She said, "buy them," and rightly so.
And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailor,
and the old men in wheelchairs know,
that Mathilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred
and she follows wherever you may go
waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda, you'll go waltzing Mathilda with me...
I tried to buy them, and Ticketmaster crashed.
So give it up and throw me down a couple of quid.
Everybody wants to see The Eyeball Kid.
So I tried again. They were sold out.
Tain't the mince meat filagree
And it ain't the turkey neck stew
And it ain't them bruleed okra seeds,
though she made them especially for you
Worse won a prize for her bottom black pie,
the beans got to thrown to the dogs
Jaheseus Christ I can always make room when they're cookin' up a Filipino Box Spring Hog.
I tried again, just in case. I'd already told Nicole we had them, how could I tell her that I lost these tickets to a chance-in-a-lifetime show?
I got the powder but not the gun.
I got the dog but not the bun.
I got the clouds but not the sky.
I got the stripes but not the tie.
But hey I'm big in Japan.
When I tried again, I got eighth row. Right down in front.
The world is not my home,
I'm just a passin thru.
Come on up to the house.
Jesus. I'll be able to see the sweat on his whiskey glass.
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While I'm jealous of your seat, I'll be there and I don't care about much of anything else.
I hate you both... not really, but envy's coiling in my gut like a snake...
I'm glad for you all, but please don't mind if I hope one of you is stricken ill before the show...
Can I have the ticket if that's so...of course I'm poorer than dirt.
I'm with Stray Thoughts, sinking into a stinking pit of hot, molten envy.
My only option would be to sit at home and listen to Rain Dogs (cassette!) on my vintage Walkman -- the one that squeeks as much as it whirs.
Fuckity-fuck, you're one lucky duck!
After much f*ucking around with Ticketbastard at 10:00:03 a.m., and two crashes (one @ 3rd row faaar right & one @ upper balcony)....I got perfect box seats, right center. I nearly peed myself with excitement.
While I probably won't be able to see the beads on the whiskey glass, I very well might be able to sneak my OWN in...
Woo Hoo! Awesome.
And suddenly our Wiggles tickets don't seem so cool.
Stray Thoughts is poorer than dirt? Yowza, could he be any sexier?
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