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THE
DADUKOS
Of All the Charlie Browns in the World |
Thy sweetness moves us more than eloquence, and music we choose; joy be the consequence. A song celebrating all that is tartan, textured and well tanned. Inspired by Aeschylus' Eumenides and a girl who sat beside me in Dr. Roberts' CHAUCER class. There are reasons that most of us were not born a Lord Byron or a lesser Keats. We strive for Shakespearean, but then swiftly resolve ourselves to finding satisfaction with one single step above Hop on Pop. And then, in so achieving, we rightfully rejoice! . . . . so begs an incidental interrogative: When the hell did the divorce proceedings begin between ourselves from our own bloody native language?? There’s obviously been a 2nd proposal of connubial contracting – a marriage between an expiration of the King’s English and the Queen's disinclination to use it. As for the title of the song . . . T’was Christmastime and the world was filled with a grand liberality toward their brethren in spirit. In my arms there was a guitar, in my mind there was a melody, and in my line of sight there was a television set featuring a particular televised Christmas special. Guess the title and I’ll send you a prize quicker than a kiss to a blind monkey’s bum! |
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