amongst books

amongst books

Monday, June 30, 2008

because sometimes you have to write a bad, bad parody song

Me and D'Arcy McGee

Busted flat in Lincoln Fields near the OC Transpo station,
Feelin’ nearly jaded as my jeans.
D’Arcy thumbed a hybrid down just before it rained,
Took us all the way out to Orleans.
I pulled my Ottawa Citizen out of my fancy E-bay Prada
And was turning pages while D’Arcy spoke his peace
With them windshield wipers squeaking grime and
D’Arcy’s honest words from lies, debunking every myth
That driver knew.

Freedom’s just another word for another head to lose,
And nothin ain’t worth nothin but it’s free,
And I felt kinda uneasy, lord, when D’Arcy spoke his peace,
And buddy, that was good enough for me,
Good enough for me and my D’Arcy McGee.

From the tech mines of Kanata to the Golden Triangle sun,
D’Arcy spoke of his last walk on Sparks
Keeping to what he believed through all Whelan had done
And every night his tale chilled me to the bone.
Then somewhere near Slater, lord, I let him slip away,
He was lookin’ for revenge I hope he’ll find,
Well I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday,
Holdin’ D’Arcy’s headless body close to mine.

Freedom’s just another word for another head to lose,
And nothin’ left was all he left to me,
Feelin’ uneasy was easy, lord, after D’Arcy spoke his peace,
And buddy, that was good enough for me.
Good enough for me and D’Arcy McGee.

[the real deal]

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