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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com
Saturday, October 16, 2004
CHISELED
Yesterday, stressed and distracted, driving to a mid-day meeting, channel surfing, something on the Classic Country AM station, God that sounds sad, switch to something else, something else, something else -- nothing. Back to Classic Country, same depressing song, well, at least it’s something, something emotional, not really listening, pre-occupied, till the very last lines,
You don’t know about lonely
Till it’s Chiseled in Stone
Thinking, “chiseled in stone, that’s an allusion to the 10 Commandments, right?” Then, immediately, “No! It’s a gravestone!”
No wonder it sounded so god-forsaken sad. Damn.
Yesterday, stressed and distracted, driving to a mid-day meeting, channel surfing, something on the Classic Country AM station, God that sounds sad, switch to something else, something else, something else -- nothing. Back to Classic Country, same depressing song, well, at least it’s something, something emotional, not really listening, pre-occupied, till the very last lines,
You don’t know about lonely
Till it’s Chiseled in Stone
Thinking, “chiseled in stone, that’s an allusion to the 10 Commandments, right?” Then, immediately, “No! It’s a gravestone!”
No wonder it sounded so god-forsaken sad. Damn.
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