Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Jackson, Jackson

Oh, Trish Blankenship, you ruled my beat off dreams of 1988 with your pink panty fantasies, and not these punch clock nightmares. Your cheerleader hair smelled like lilacs in 1980 when the moon was full and the grass was high and the lightning bugs flew softly across the York meadow. Where are you now my love? My beauty. My damp thigh lover? Bring me home to your sweaty memory.
Drove 1974 vespa ciao over downed trees in distant forests with no florescent lights. You say that it is irresponsible to lose your job over the tight fabrication of meadowland madness but I say that scorpion bowl wisdom. "my cat has claws" "You have many talents" "House" "674391" is the madness and what you don't see is the culmination of the haunted house that is our sweaty town.

The Florescent lights have sucked my soul through my lungs and now I'm sweating my heart through my forehead. bring peace to the lovers of the land. the scorpion bowl is the depth of jackson's heart and his sweaty love is the end of all of our persuasion.

JAckson jackson, where did your goat go?
jackson jackson, where did your goat go?

he jumped the fence, and he crossed the field
he jumped the fence and he crossed the field.

Jackson, Jackson,. where did your goat go?
jackson, jackson, where did your goat go?

he crossed the field and he
he climbed the mountain
he crossed the field and he climbed the mountain.

I listened to the video and it wasn't bad. I'm not sure what is hard about a I/ii/IV/V progression except I was under the influence of scorpion and did not explain it.
D / e minor/ G / A7

where did your goat go?
it's a prayer for a goat.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.