My Ride's

I've got a bitter pot of je ne sais quoi
Guess what--I'm stirring it with a monkey's paw
Since I saw you coming out of my barber's shop
In that skimpy little halter top

Did you light the candles? Did you put on "Kind of Blue?"
Did you use that Ivy League voodoo on him, too?
He thinks he'll be alright but he doesn't know for sure
Like every other unindicted coconspirator

Mata Hari had a house in France
Where she worked on all her secret plans
Men were falling for her sight unseen
She was a genius

There's a a face in every window of the Songwriters' Neighborhood
Everybody's your best friend when you're doing well--I mean good
The poet who lived next door when you were young and poor
Grew up to be a backstabbing entrepreneur

Albert Einstein was a ladies' man
While he was working on his universal plan
He was making out like Charlie Sheen
He was a genius

When you dropped me and you staked your claim
On a V.I.P. who could make your name
You latched on to him and I became
A minor inconvenience
Your protégé don't care about art
I'm the one who always told you you were smart
You broke my heart into smithereens
And that took genius

You and the barber make a handsome pair
Guess what--I never liked the way he cut your hair
I didn't like the way he turned your head
But there's nothing I can do or say I haven't done or said

Everybody needs a place to stand
And a method for their schemes and scams
If I could only get my record clean
I'd be a genius

My baby is a basket case
A bipolar mama in leather and lace
Face like an angel--she's a perfect waste
My baby is a basket case

Dracula's daughter, Calamity Jane
Smoke on the water, water on the brain
She's pretty as a picture--and totally crazed
My baby is a basket case

She's gonna make a madman outta me
She's gonna make a madman outta me

She's manic-depressive and schizoid, too
The friskiest psycho that I ever knew
We're paranoid lovers lost in space
My baby is a basket case

My baby's gonna celebrate
I'm being dragged through the nuthouse gates
Got my straitjacket on and I'm taking her place
My baby is a basket case

She finally made a madman outta me
She finally made a madman outta me
My baby made a madman outta me
She finally made a madman outta me

I was staying at the Marriott
With Jesus and John Wayne
I was waiting for a chariot
They were waiting for a train
The sky was full of carrion
"I'll take the mazuma"
Said Jesus to Marion
"That's the 3:10 to Yuma
My ride's here..."

The Houston sky was changeless
We galloped through bluebonnets
I was wrestling with an angel
You were working on a sonnet
You said, "I believe the seraphim
Will gather up my pinto
And carry us away, Jim
Across the San Jacinto
My ride's here..."

Shelley and Keats were out in the street
And even Lord Byron was leaving for Greece
While back at the Hilton, last but not least
Milton was holding his sides
Saying, "You bravos had better be
ready to fight
Or we'll never get out of East Texas tonight
The trail is long and the river is wide
And my ride's here"

I was staying at the Westin
I was playing to a draw
When in walked Charlton Heston
With the Tablets of the Law
He said, "It's still the Greatest Story"
I said, "Man, I'd like to stay
But I'm bound for glory
I'm on my way
My ride's here..."

Pour leur plaire aux femmes
Dites donc
Dites-moi Madame
Qu'ai-je donc
Perfides ou sincères
C'est selon
Quand faut s'en défaire
C'est coton

Avec une gueule pareille
Nom de nom
N' me manqu' aux oreilles
Des pompons
Et si je marchais à
Croupetons
J'aurais tout du pauvre A-
liboron

Laissez-moi
Laissez-moi tranquille
Laissez-moi
Laissez-moi
Laissez-moi tranquille
Laissez-moi

Allez sans esclandre
Mes chatons
Allez vous faire pendre
Allez donc
Ailleurs qu'à mon gilet
À quoi bon
Je n' suis pas le gibet
D' Montfaucon

Laissez-moi
Laissez-moi tranquille
Laissez-moi
Laissez-moi
Laissez-moi tranquille
Laissez-moi

He was born in Big Beaver by the borderline
He started playing hockey by the time he was nine
His dad took the hose and froze the back yard
And Little Buddy dreamed he was Rocket Richard
He grew up big and he grew up tough
He saw himself scoring for the Wings or Canucks
But he wasn't that good with a puck

Buddy's real talent was beating people up
His heart wasn't in it but the crowd ate it up
Through pee-wee's and juniors, midgets and mites
He must have racked up more than six hundred fights
A scout from the flames came down from Saskatoon
Said, "There's always room on our team for a goon
Son, we've always got room for a goon"

There were Swedes to the left of him
Russians to the right
A Czech at the blue line looking for a fight
Brains over brawn--that might work for you
But what's a Canadian farm boy to do
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do
But what's a Canadian farm boy to do
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do

Hit somebody! was what the crowd roared
When Buddy the goon came over the boards
"Coach," he'd say, "I wanna score goals"
The coach said, "Buddy, remember your role
The fast guys get paid, they shoot, they score
Protect them, Buddy, that's what you're here for

Protection is what you're here for
Protection--it's the stars that score
Protection--kick somebody's ass
Protection--don't put the biscuit in the basket just
Hit some, Buddy! it rang in his ears
Blood on the ice ran down through the years
The king of the goons with a box for a throne
A thousand stitches and broken bones
He never lost a fight on his icy patrol
But deep inside, Buddy only dreamed of a goal
He just wanted one damn goal

There were Swedes at the the blue line
Finns at the red
A Russian with a stick heading straight for his head
Brains over brawn--that might work for you
But what's a Canadian farm boy to do
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do
But what's a Canadian farm boy to do
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do

In his final season, on his final night
Buddy and a Finn goon were pegged for a fight
Thirty seconds left, the puck took a roll
And suddenly Buddy had a shot on goal

The goalie committed, Buddy picked his spot
Twenty years of waiting went into that shot
The fans jumped up, the Finn jumped too
And coldcocked Buddy on his follow through
The big man crumbled but he felt all right
'Cause the last thing he saw
was the flashing red light
He saw that heavenly light

There were Swedes to the left of him
Russians to the right
A Czech at the blue line looking for a fight
Take care of your teeth--that might work for you
But what's a Canadian farm boy to do
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do
But what's a Canadian farm boy to do
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do