The Corycian Cave is just deserted by a means to an exemplify

Melaina did say to Kleodora and, not least, Corycia
that the Cave was attracting far too many gawkers.
How could they keep up their work with a militia
of sightseers pointing everywhere, those small talkers?

So a radical plan with the help of the three muses
and nine but ’twas Clio who saw that packed arthropodas
was the answer with viri like tiny time bomb fuses!
So quarantine the cave was their operandi modus.

So now the quiet reigns yet again almost to Delphi
and the ideas flow again to amuse and to, perhaps, edify.

Advertisements

Long Long Way

How can I refrain, eh?

It’s a long long way
to make in just one gray day
so I’ll back away.


I’ve always liked Ian Thomas’ song ‘Long Long Way‘ from the 1974 album of the same name. But the refrain, an example of the past from the 1920’s, strikes me as too repetitive. A new example is needed. So I set out to do just that.
Here’s the original lyric.

Well we’ve come a long long way,
Look at everything we know
We’re getting smarter everyday,
Ah but where’s it gonna go
For all the words that go by,
I’ve got a feeling inside
That after it’s all said and done
Though we’ve come a long long way
This old world’s not much better than it was
Oh it’s just like the twenties, machine guns were plenty
Everyday you’d get shot up all the whisky’d get bought up
We’d be dancing the night through, just waiting until
The joke’s on you, ah then what do you do
Model T’s and Chevies just loaded with heavies
Shining faces like morning roses, aglow with their noses
Pressed on your window, just waiting to shine
Your concrete shoes, to the piano roll blues
We’re flying space ships round the stars
Getting faster by the hour
Pretty soon we’ll be on Mars
Build another Ivory tower
through all the praise that you borrow
There’s still hunger and sorrow and after it’s all said and done
Though we’ve come a long long way
This old world’s not much better than it was
Oh it’s just like the twenties, machine guns were plenty
Everyday you’d get shot up all the whisky’d get bought up
We’d be dancing the night through, just waiting until
The joke’s on you, ah then what do you do
Oh
Model T’s and Chevies just loaded with heavies
Shining faces like morning roses, aglow with their noses
Pressed on your window, just waiting to shine
Your concrete shoes, to the piano roll blues

So my version would update the refrain the second time through to the sixties and I’d switch the piano for a more 60’s era synth.

Hey it’s just like the sixties, with free love aplenty
Everyday you’d join sit ins with ponchos, flowers and big grins.
We’d be burning our draft cards, and shaming the man
Then his boot’s on you, so what can do you do?

Bikers and Chargers packin’ cruisin’ teenagers
Hippies with long flowing hair, women going bra bare
Filling up that Haight, with headbands outta sight,
those gogo boots, dance the moog grassroots


With admiration and apologies to Ian Thomas!