Ta Da

A month of sickness songs. There are enough out there that I probably could do another one. I won't.

Damn, this sitting at home is getting to be a drag.

6 thoughts on “Ta Da

    1. cleek Post author

      and if i just start posting the stuff you’ve come up with, we could probably keep this rolling all summer.

  1. russell

    Zevon “Don’t Let Us Get Sick”. Or “My Shit’s Fucked Up”.

    Blues standard “Going Down Slow” aka “I’ve Had My Fun”, you could probably do a couple of werks of just versions of that.

    But let somebody else do it, you’ve probably had enough of it.

    1. John Thullen

      Well, going forward from this catastrophe, there will be no end of plague-themed pop and rock music, right?

      Boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, boy gives girl Covid-19, girl’s mother finds out boy took girl to a restaurant serving bat soup, grounds girl from seeing boy, girl sneaks out of the house leaving a note to parents that she will always be having what he’s having because … love .. and they spend their honeymoon at Joe Exotic’s new wet market for animal lovers on the Oklahoma prairie, girl leaves boy for another dentally-challenged guy who flings animal carcasses and expired serve-by-this-date pork shops from Walmart into the tiger cages ….. really, it’s just another in a long-line of variations on Romeo Juliet from follow troubadours Ricky Nelson, Lennon and McCartney, Iggy Pop, Kurt Cobain, Fiona Apple, and whomever wrote “Love Stinks”.

      There will 50 songs on the radio called “Social Distancing”.

      I’ll wager, as we speak, there are several newly formed garage bands consisting of 15-year-olds sitting around trying to think up names for their band and the drummer (probably a Chinese -America to give everyone an edgy kick in the teeth) in the band, who usually keeps to himself in these discussions, pipes up Ringo-wise with “How ’bout Wet Market” and we’ll be on our way to the latest of new waves ….. Pandemic Rock.

      Once they’ve made it, natch, Howard Stern will have them on and ask them how they came up with the name of their group, and they’ll shrug and say, hey, it was just what was going on at the time. Coulda been anything. We didn’t have time for a market survey.

      Their big hit will be played, without their permission, as the theme song at the Inauguration of Donald Trump’ fourth term in office in January 1929.

      A comedic pundit on a late show will ask: “So when irony died, did they embalm it or cremate it, and where can I pay my respects?”

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