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  • Paul Davidson

I Can Write A Song About Anything

For as long as I have been alive, I have been graced with a very unique talent.

If you and I were riding around in the car one afternoon, and you saw a man lying down next to a bus stop who was eating a huge burrito, and if you turned to me and asked me to sing the first few verses of a brand-new song I had just written about said man and the burrito — I would have no problem obliging.

He’s a man without family, he’s a man on the run, but give him a huge cheese burrito, and get ready for fun.

Because when Mr. Fred Miller, gets a hold of some cheese, he’s a man without reason, and he sure likes to please.

Chorus He’s a big man, burrito guy, with no home base, sometimes he’ll cry. But he’s a big man, pintos and guac, he’s not bound by chains, or a kryptonite lock.

We could stop at a park and play croquet and you might turn to me after you got beaten badly, sipping your iced coffee and wonder aloud about the true popularity of croquet, to which I might sing back…

Cro-quet! Cro-quet! The master blaster of fannasta o’ tasta! Cro-quet!

Cro-quet! Cro-quet! A wooden mallet, on a grass-covered palate, watch the balls hit the funnel, through the wirey air tunnel!

But when the sun begins to set, the rain clouds come, the grass gets wet, but you haven’t even won the game yet…

Cro-quet!

There’s no rhyme or reason. There is no pause in my words. The music emerges from my throat as quickly as you throw out a phrase. You could easily just say, “Hey, there’s that billboard for that movie I wanted to see!” and I would waste no time in singing you the song…

She looked up at the billboard, her desires coming fast, it was a movie she had missed yet, it would not be her last.

And as the car sped past the corner, and the image disappeared, you could see inside her eyes now, as the car, it swerved — she steered.

Chorus She was, desperate to see it. She was, desperate to go. She was a big fan of Jude Law, that is true, I should know.

But when she got into the theater, and the lights went low then black, her cries of pain and suffering, well, she couldn’t take them back.

She was a… Bad movie chooser, and sucker to the hype, a bad movie chooser, she won’t put up a fight…

She was a bad movie chooser, be it Jude or Bruce or Tom, she would see almost any movie, like I’ve told you in this song.

Really, the talent is there, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It pops up at the most inopportune times. You say a phrase, and I waste no time.

I have to live with it, and so I will. But maybe I should take a pill.

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