Doin' It With My Boots On

I've typed four different beginnings to this entry and realized that I need to visit bars all across the country on St. Patrick's Day if I want to get data to back up my theories. So where do I start next year?

Oooh, I just realized that I've been whistling the wrong lyrics to "You're So Vain" for about a decade now. How did "Go by" suddenly become "gavotte?" And "Halfway cocked" become "apricot?" Funny when things you know become things you never knew.

I guess this is the cross-eyed bear that you gave to me... you oughtta know.

Ah, Madalena, you overstimate
Your charms, for your arms are not
As tempting as you thought
In the city of never settling for what you want

Come with me to the bench on the hill
Where the fog rolls in and the cars on the freeway
Disappear and still you hear the screams of the dreams
Being born, which sound like the screams of the dreams
That were doomed from the start

The nightmares are so quiet you’d think they’d gone
And they had until now but they’ve won
And you won’t let them go so easily this time
They’re gonna hold on this time

Go to sleep Madalena, they ride
For you, they died for you
Close your pretty eyes and let them in
Let’s not play your game again

Wake up, Madalena, they ride
From here, I died right here
You fought them off
I couldn’t fight them off

Friday night

Uno, dos, tres, quatro.

I just wanted to write that here before I forgot. On a music video. IN SPANISH.