The long and winding road That leads to your door Will never disappear I've seen that road before It always leads me here Lead me to you door
The wild and windy night That the rain washed away Has left a pool of tears Crying for the day Why leave me standing here Let me know the way
Many times I've been alone And many times I've cried Any way you'll never know The many ways I've tried
But still they lead me back To the long winding road You left me standing here A long long time ago Don't leave me waiting here Lead me to your door
But still they lead me back To the long winding road You left me standing here A long long time ago Dont leave me waiting here Lead me to your door Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
It was just after dark when the truck started down the hill that leads into Scranton Pennsylvania. Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Carrying thirty thousand pounds (hit it Big John) of bananas.
He was a young driver, just out on his second job. And he was carrying the next day's tasty fruits for everyone in that coal-scarred city where children play without despair in backyard slag-piles and folks manage to eat each day about thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes, just about thirty thousand pounds (scream it again, John) .
He passed a sign that he should have seen, saying "shift to low gear, a fifty dollar fine my friend." He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breathed woman who was waiting at the journey's end. He started down the two mile drop, the curving road that wound from the top of the hill. He was pushing on through the shortening miles that ran down to the depot. Just a few more miles to go, then he'd go home and have her ease his long, cramped day away. and the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
He was picking speed as the city spread its twinkling lights below him. But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts of the nights delights went through him. His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down. But the pedal floored easy without a sound. He said "Christ!" It was funny how he had named the only man who could save him now. He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide, riding on his fear-hunched back was every one of those yellow green I'm telling you thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
He barely made the sweeping curve that led into the steepest grade. And he missed the thankful passing bus at ninety miles an hour. And he said "G-d, make it a dream!" as he rode his last ride down. And he said "G-d, make it a dream!" as he rode his last ride down. And he sideswiped nineteen neat parked cars, clipped off thirteen telephone poles, hit two houses, bruised eight trees, and Blue-Crossed seven people. it was then he lost his head, not to mention an arm or two before he stopped. And he slid for four hundred yards along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania. All those thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
You know the man who told me about it on the bus, as it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania, he shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head, and he said (and this is exactly what he said) "Boy that sure must've been something. Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas. Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas. Of bananas. Just bananas. Thirty thousand pounds. of Bananas. not no driver now. Just bananas!"
Is that it??? Harry Chapin??? That's what I thought of at least. I know it look nothing like Pensy, but what can I say? C:P
Just outside of Johnson city on a dark and twisting road In a Kenworth 18 wheeler with a heavy shifting load He was pushing through to Bingamton though the hour was getting late Buys his finest sons a mission to the pharmacies upstate He was on a holy mission, there were men who couldn’t wait It was 20,000 pounds of viagra He clocked 700 miles since he climbed into the rig Just another 25 or so would finish up that gig But the trailer hit an oil slick and down the hill did fly Till it landed at the bottom in the towns water supply It was instant rigamortis what a hard way die Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water All over Johnson city people rising with the dawn They drank their morning coffee, took their showers watered lawns And who could have predicted all the changes up ahead? Men were getting up for work and women back to bed So many called in sick you would have thought a virus spread Down at the courthouse coffee shop stared in disbelief As a pack of thirsty lawyers started filling out their briefs But at the local college young men appeared much smarter No chomosomal mystery they simply studied harder Now water on the rocks is the latest party starter Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water The Johnson city firemen they cursed their reched luck They could not get their firehoses wound back on the truck Sprikling holy water at a funeral father Ryan said… I know I’ve saved your souls but I’ve never raised the dead Would a couple stong men help me now close the casket lid? Old man Weisse just took the shower of his life Then he marched into the kitchen and he called out to his wife She knew something was up as he stood naked at the table Holding two cups of coffee and a half a dozen bagels It had been at least a decade since the last time he was able Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water Believers seeking miracles the pilgrims came in hordes The waters of viagra grew more popular than Lordes The clergy quoted scripture but they found it hard to sell Those who chose to be anointed were pointed straight to hell Despite the dire warning the crowds began to swell Some hardened politicians came into town one day With their permits and their pipelines pumped the waters all away From the heart of Johnson city came rose the mournful cry of men But the women knew another truck was commin’ through again Don’t worry there’s a truck next week, we’ll spread the oil again Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water
12 comments:
The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear
I've seen that road before
It always leads me here
Lead me to you door
The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day
Why leave me standing here
Let me know the way
Many times I've been alone
And many times I've cried
Any way you'll never know
The many ways I've tried
But still they lead me back
To the long winding road
You left me standing here
A long long time ago
Don't leave me waiting here
Lead me to your door
But still they lead me back
To the long winding road
You left me standing here
A long long time ago
Dont leave me waiting here
Lead me to your door
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(u)
yep...since you're on the Beatles..that was what I was gonna say too.
(Long and Winding Road was the theme for my High School Prom...a long...LONG...time ago in a galaxy far far away...)
I guessed that same. IMMEDIATELY, when I saw the photo I starting singing (in my head, of course) The Long And Winding Road....
:-)
(we've all guessed correctly, didn't we??)
It was just after dark when the truck started down
the hill that leads into Scranton Pennsylvania.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds (hit it Big John) of bananas.
He was a young driver,
just out on his second job.
And he was carrying the next day's tasty fruits
for everyone in that coal-scarred city
where children play without despair
in backyard slag-piles and folks manage to eat each day
about thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, just about thirty thousand pounds (scream it again, John) .
He passed a sign that he should have seen,
saying "shift to low gear, a fifty dollar fine my friend."
He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breathed woman
who was waiting at the journey's end.
He started down the two mile drop,
the curving road that wound from the top of the hill.
He was pushing on through the shortening miles that ran down to the depot.
Just a few more miles to go,
then he'd go home and have her ease his long, cramped day away.
and the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
He was picking speed as the city spread its twinkling lights below him.
But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts of the nights
delights went through him.
His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down.
But the pedal floored easy without a sound.
He said "Christ!"
It was funny how he had named the only man who could save him now.
He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide,
riding on his fear-hunched back
was every one of those yellow green
I'm telling you thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
He barely made the sweeping curve that led into the steepest grade.
And he missed the thankful passing bus at ninety miles an hour.
And he said "G-d, make it a dream!"
as he rode his last ride down.
And he said "G-d, make it a dream!"
as he rode his last ride down.
And he sideswiped nineteen neat parked cars,
clipped off thirteen telephone poles,
hit two houses, bruised eight trees,
and Blue-Crossed seven people.
it was then he lost his head,
not to mention an arm or two before he stopped.
And he slid for four hundred yards
along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania.
All those thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
You know the man who told me about it on the bus,
as it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania,
he shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head,
and he said (and this is exactly what he said)
"Boy that sure must've been something.
Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas.
Of bananas. Just bananas. Thirty thousand pounds.
of Bananas. not no driver now. Just bananas!"
Is that it??? Harry Chapin??? That's what I thought of at least. I know it look nothing like Pensy, but what can I say? C:P
Insy weeny tiny little polka dot bikini that she wore for the first time today perhaps??
pxx
There’s Viagra In the Water
(Country Western Feel)
Just outside of Johnson city on a dark and twisting road
In a Kenworth 18 wheeler with a heavy shifting load
He was pushing through to Bingamton though the hour was getting late
Buys his finest sons a mission to the pharmacies upstate
He was on a holy mission, there were men who couldn’t wait
It was 20,000 pounds of viagra
He clocked 700 miles since he climbed into the rig
Just another 25 or so would finish up that gig
But the trailer hit an oil slick and down the hill did fly
Till it landed at the bottom in the towns water supply
It was instant rigamortis what a hard way die
Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water
All over Johnson city people rising with the dawn
They drank their morning coffee, took their showers watered lawns
And who could have predicted all the changes up ahead?
Men were getting up for work and women back to bed
So many called in sick you would have thought a virus spread
Down at the courthouse coffee shop stared in disbelief
As a pack of thirsty lawyers started filling out their briefs
But at the local college young men appeared much smarter
No chomosomal mystery they simply studied harder
Now water on the rocks is the latest party starter
Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water
The Johnson city firemen they cursed their reched luck
They could not get their firehoses wound back on the truck
Sprikling holy water at a funeral father Ryan said…
I know I’ve saved your souls but I’ve never raised the dead
Would a couple stong men help me now close the casket lid?
Old man Weisse just took the shower of his life
Then he marched into the kitchen and he called out to his wife
She knew something was up as he stood naked at the table
Holding two cups of coffee and a half a dozen bagels
It had been at least a decade since the last time he was able
Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water
Believers seeking miracles the pilgrims came in hordes
The waters of viagra grew more popular than Lordes
The clergy quoted scripture but they found it hard to sell
Those who chose to be anointed were pointed straight to hell
Despite the dire warning the crowds began to swell
Some hardened politicians came into town one day
With their permits and their pipelines pumped the waters all away
From the heart of Johnson city came rose the mournful cry of men
But the women knew another truck was commin’ through again
Don’t worry there’s a truck next week, we’ll spread the oil again
Save your sons, shield your daughters there’s viagra in the water
oh ruby THAT was great!!!
The blue ridge mountains of Virginia?
*chuckling*
Viagra in the water. LOL
I'm gonna haffta find that one and have a listen....
oh, this is so funny!
(get The Brit to do an impression of Laurel and Hardy singing Blue Ridge mountains to you, I betcha he can)
*waves*
hi!
:-)
I quite liked Craig's bananas, but I'm not sure about the smell. . .
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