September 26 - "Instrumental" (plus a bonus track!) "Beheaded"

Steve: You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 1031. (tests out harmonica) I’m just getting a new…I said I’d try and change it up with a different harmonica. I think this one’s “D”. But I don’t know if I’ve got it in the holder right. I’ve got gas today, so be careful.

Mr. Shovel: It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?

Steve: Huh? I haven’t farted on the air in a while.

Mr. Shovel: Yeah...about two minutes ago.

Steve: I just farted in Steele’s office (Indie Program Director Michael Steele). Nice. It just went on, on, on. It was one of them, it was one of them magma ones.

Mr. Shovel: I’m surprised you had anything left over for the one you just did in here.

Steve: (innocently) Oh, did I?

Mr. Shovel: (laughs)

Steve: Oh. No, I think there’s many more. Hold on a second. What’s going on, Shovel?

Mr. Shovel: We have tickets to Frampton to give away.

Steve: I heard Bush, kind of in the background, but Bush and some bloke from Afganistan was talking this morning for about twenty minutes, live. Do you know what that was about?

Mr. Shovel: No, but I’m sure it was not about anything that was actually happening.

Steve: Did you know that gas prices went down? You noticed?

Mr. Shovel: Um hm. A little bit.

Steve: I noticed that it cost twenty-six bucks to fill up my Prius. Normally it’s thirty. So that was good.

Mr. Shovel: By all means, you should shift your vote into the Republican column, then.

Steve: Oh, I know what I wanted…someone told me that Clinton ripped a new um, thing…bum-bum with that geezer on the Fox…did you see that?

Mr. Shovel: Um hm.

Steve: I wish I would have seen that. Was it, was it good?

Mr. Shovel: It was, but they just ended up making him look like a fool anyways, for being upset, “Oh, look at him. Look at him. Look at how upset he is”

Steve: Making who look like a fool?

Mr. Shovel: Clinton.

Steve: Really? I don’t think he come across like that, though. From what I…I didn’t see it, from what I…oh, well. You can’t win, can ya? Don’t matter what you do. (checks tuning on guitar) That’s sounds about…perfect. Just like the day it was made. Perfecto. (does a little la la warm up, blows into harmonica) What key is this in? Let me try and figure out. I’m into doing songs lately, I don’t know why. (blows harmonica) Oh, that ain’t right, is it? Oh, it’s “C”. (begins to play guitar and blow a tune on harmonica for a while, then stops) I don’t know what I’m singing, though. Got any ideas? Maybe I’ll just do instrumental. (continues to play)

(starts to sing)

Instrumental…(the "instrumental" has lyrics now. Mr. Shovel is heard laughing in the background)

Steve: (stops singing and playing) I can’t hear meself. What’s going on here? It’s all low and dodgy. Nothing’s happening. No echo or…the echo’s on strike or something? (starts song over)

Instrumental
Sentimental
Experimental
your life away

I am a test tube
Test tube, baby
Just finding my way
I like the sound of no words on this song

It’s better than words
They’re only words
and I like it
Yes I like it this way

Silence is golden
I’m going to send you to Coventry (?)
Did I mention that silence is golden
You’ve been sent
you’ve been sent to Coventry

I like it better with no words on this song
I like it better this way
I like it better with no words on this song
It’s more effective that way

Instrumental
Accidently
couldn’t write any words today
Instrumental
in the cathedral
of silence

It’s better off with no words on this song
I like it better this way
It’s much more fun
when you don’t have to
remember

I could never be in a play
with loads of lyrics
and cues and positions
and lights and action
and nervous stage fright

Instrumental...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

From September 25th, a little medieval ditty by Sire

Be-headed


As I was walking through the village green
I saw bundles of hay
rolling down the cobblestones
I saw the huts were burning
And the men on their horses were waving their swords

I must run to the hills and get in the bushes
I must run and be a big coward
I’m not brave with swords
I leave it to the gruff men
I don’t want to be-headed

I saw some children get their arms cut off
And some women were getting ‘airy-aped
I think I knew one of the maidens
Better her than me

So I ran to the hills
cos I’m a coward
I don’t want them big grisly men
looking at me

I feel for the victims in the village
But you won’t find me
Because don’t want to be-headed
I want to see my head one more day
Where it should be on my shoulders
Looking out at thee