Gone are the days when my brain was young and gay
Gone are corn pops of the swimming pools away
Gone to the sniff the scent of all the young girls I know
I hear those Bland Lives voices calling, “Old Bland Joe”
I’m thinking I’m stinking
But my brain’s imploding slow
I hear those Bland Lives voices calling, “Old Bland Joe
I’m coming home (I’m coming home)
Oh-oh my head is bending low
I hear those gentle voices calling, “Old Bland Joe”
Old Bland Joe, Old Bland Joe, Old Bland Joe
Why do I speak when I forget just where I am?
Why do I shout “I NEED SOME FRESH DEPENDS!”
Grieving for a brain now departed long ago
I hear their Bland Lives voices calling, “Old Bland Joe”
Where are all those I molested happy and free?
The children so dear that I held upon my knee?
Gone to the sewer where my brain has long’d to go
I hear those Bland Lives voices calling, “Old Bland Joe Joe”
Gerard Van der Leun
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Someone is a poet
they just don’t know it
but their speech
sure does show it.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
It’s a crying shame
Everything said is true
Joe is slow and old
But he’s leading the polls
He’ll soon have to debate
Then his lead will evaporate
Looks like Max Headroom
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Max_Headroom
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old black Joes still picking cotton for some ribbons and bows
He’s going to sniff your hair and lick your toes
Everybody knows
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
This one has a good beat; you can dance to it
If it weren’t for Blather Mouth Joe
I’d have been POTUS; Twenty Two Oh
Where did you come from; why wont you go
Where are you coming from
Blather Mouth Joe
Wait, I aint anonymous; I have a name. Just Callmelennie
I’z comin’, I’z comin’
With my prostate hangin’ low.
I hear disgusted voices howling,
“Oh, HELL no!”
This is so sad. My father died at the beginning of this year at the age of 93. He had dementia. We could see it coming on and rapidly in the last 5 years of his life. The erosion of his mind.
He knew it was happening to himself too. Until he no longer knew anything. We could see the fear and the tears in his eyes. The same fearful and lost look that Joe Biden has in these clips.
What is happening here is nothing less than Elder Abuse.
I remember learning all those folk songs, like “Old Black Joe”, in country school back in the 1950s. “Camptown Races,” “Billy Boy,” ‘I’ve Been Workin’ on the Railroad” and lots more. In a school roomful of kids from 5-14, I doubt any of us had ever laid eyes on a person of color. My first glimpse of the black world came in the late 1950s when I would go with my mother on the train to Sioux City. We stayed in some kind of apartment for a few days while she kept doctors’ appointments. Left to myself, I’d wander the streets and go mostly into book stores & restaurants. Saw a ton of black people, except they were “Negroes” then. Even though my parents referred to them as “darkies”, and every black cat on the farm was dubbed “n***er”, I instinctively knew NOT to say that.
All that being said, the author of the clever concept lyrics needs a little work on getting words to match up with music . . . . .