And I was lookin' for a place to get myself into some cold.
To slake the thirst feelin' that was eatin' at my soul.
And find some wifi for my new macbook.
Well my thirsty wanted whisky; but my hungry needed beans,
But it'd been of month of paydays since I'd heard an eagle scream.
So with a stomach full of empty and a pocket full of dreams,
I left my pride and stepped inside a bar.
(Actually, I guess you'd call it one a them CA-fes:
Cigarette smoke to the ceilin'... mozos workin' the floor... too much lighting.)
I saw that there was just one old man a sittin in a nook.
And in the mirror I could see him checkin' me and my macbook.
An' he turned and said: "Venga, joven", and let us take a look."
I said: "I'm dry." He bought me a beer.
(He nodded at my laptop and said, "It's a tough life, ain't it?" I just looked at him.
He said, "You ain't makin' any money, are you?" I said: "You've been readin' my email."
He just smiled and said: "Let me see that notebook... I got something you oughta read."
Then he laid it on me...)
♪♫ "If you waste your time a-talkin' to the people who don't listen,
"To the things that you are sayin', who do you think's gonna hear.
"And if you should die explainin' how the things that they complain about,
"Are things they could be changin', who do you think's gonna care?"♪♫ ♪♫ There were other lonely bloggers in a world turned deaf and blind,
Who were crucified for what they tried to show.
And their blogposts have been scattered by the swirling winds of time.
'Cause the truth remains that no-one wants to know.♪♫ Well, the old man was a stranger, but I'd read his blog before,
Back when Windows had me locked out on the wrong side of the door.
When no-one stood behind me but my shadow on the floor,
And lonesome was more than a state of mind.
(You see, the devil haunts a hungry man. If you don't wanna join him...you got to beat him.
I ain't sayin' I beat the devil, but I drank his beer for nothin'... then I stole his post.)
♪♫ And you still can read me writin' to the people who don't listen,
To the things that I am sayin', prayin' someone's gonna hear.
And I guess I'll die explaining how the things that they complain about,
Are things they could be changin', hopin' someone's gonna care.♪♫ ♪♫ I was born a lonely blogger and I'm bound to die the same,
But I've got to feed the hunger in my soul.
And if I never make a nickle, I won't never die ashamed.
'Cause I don't believe that no-one wants to know.♪♫ If you would prefer to send a check by mail, please send your contribution to ...
Please make
all checks
payable to: "Alicia Blumencweig"
All
contributions are greatly appreciated.
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