It’s been a bit of a while since I have posted one of my lyrics. So, what the hey. “Paint Your Wagon” is a fav of mine. So, what the hey. I was thinking it needed a parody of its own. Instead of two prospectors showing up in a gold mining town, “Wash Your Wagon” could have two guys who want to start laundromats in the town. They’re competing for business. So here’s the song, “Laundrin’ Star”. (See the lyric below Lee Marvin.)
To be sung to the tune of Wandrin’ Star from “Paint Your Wagon”.
I was born under a laundrin’ star
I was born under a laundrin’ star
Soap is made for washing, scrubbing is made to clean
I’ve never seen a sight that didn’t look better when it’s keen
I was born under a laundrin’ star
Mud can make you dirty, and the sun can bake you dry
Soap can burn your eyes, but only dirty makes you cry
Clothes are made for washing, for dreams of getting clean
Which with any luck you’ll get to bathe again
I was born under a laundrin’ star
I was born under a laundrin’ star
Do I know where hell is, hell is in the mud
Heaven’s goodbye to dirt, it’s time for a scrub
I was born under a laundrin’ star
A laundrin’ laundrin’ star
Mud can make you dirty and the sun can bake you dry
Soap can burn your eyes, but only dirty make you cry
Clothes are made for washing, for dreams of getting clean
Which with any luck you’ll get to bathe again
I was born under a laundrin’ star
I was born under a laundrin’ star
When I get to heaven, throw me in a tub
Or I’ll begin to roam, and soon you’ll know I’ll be in the mud
I was born under a laundrin’ star
A laundrin’ star
Once a week on Friday, Uncle Bardie celebrates the creativity in others by shining a Spotlight on a movie, a song or a creator. This week’s Spotlight Creator is Gordon Lightfoot:
It was late 1969 and I was at the Air Force Base Exchange. I found myself flipping through the records when I chanced upon an album called “Sunday Concert”. In those days, I had gotten into the habit of buying albums based on the cover art. The cover on the album was simple. It was a side view of Gordon Lightfoot on stage. It was a live album.
I liked the cover but I wasn’t sure who this Gordon Lightfoot was. Seems the name had come up before. Didn’t he write a Peter, Paul and Mary tune, “Early Morning Rain”? I checked out the songs. They had interesting titles and it looked like this Lightfoot guy was a folk singer.
This was in the days before Pandora and Spotify. If no one you knew had heard an artist, you took your chances. So I took my chances. Man, am I glad. I loved this Lightfoot and his “Sunday Concert”. Every song was a gem. Little did I realize that this was the last album he was to do for United Artist. His next album, “Sit Down, Young Stranger”, was on the Reprise label and it was a gem too. Had a big hit on it. “If you could read my mind”.
Gordon Lightfoot was something. He wrote great songs. He had a great voice. And he looked like what you would expect a troubadour to look. Over the years, I bought album after album of his as they were released. Twice I saw him in concert. And he’s still out there on the road, doing what a troubadour does.
In his honor, I wrote this lyric:
The ballading man Spanish guitars play a South-of-the-Border song On the stage the man sings out loud and clear Of a land made great by sweat and by blood, A rose in the wilderness of every man’s fear.
The songs the ways of the past almost forgotten: Of love’s wisdom, of life, glory and death, Of battles raging and courageous men, Conquistadors, el dorado tales of fabulous wealth.
Children, gather ’round and hear a ballading man Warm as a winter fire by a family hearth Wild as mountain flowers in early spring, A natural theology of every man’s worth.
If you like to eat, and you like to eat good
C’mon down and get yourself a bite
Of the best darn food in the neighborhood
Open six of the seven both day and night.
A wisp of a smell, the aroma grows
As you drive your car to the way down there
Where the food is great, a delight for the nose.
A darn good odor, it fills the air.
Have a burger and fries, they’re the best
With onions and ‘maters and lettuce too.
So um um good, you’ll puff out your chest.
You’ll snap your fingers and tap your shoe.
Have a steak and have it rare
Right off the grill and on your plate.
It’s made just right, grilled with care.
The best darn steak you ever ate.
If you want your sushi sushitized,
If you want your venison venisonized,
If you want your fish without their eyes,
Come to the place with the blue ribbon prize.
So c’mon down and feed yourself,
All you gals and all you fellows,
‘Cause Sam’s the cook, Ella the chef
Of the diner they call the Sam ‘N’ Ella.
