Tuesday, April 20, 2004

Red Raven - kewl name

Watched "Family Plots" last night. Not a fan of reality TV, but this is a family I can relate to! I would love to start a mortuary specializing in nontraditional burial (at sea, sky, in cars, burial of pets etc.) I would also like to write a book about different ways people deal with the dead in different cultures (for instance, some Australian aboriginal people place the remains in large hollow wooden tubes that have been decorated. They don't tend the graves and let the earth reclaim them.)

One of those bizare coincidences, I picked up a Nevada Barr book on CD (pretty good one - Blood Lure, and I almost figured it out!) on a whim. I like lady-something-detective stories (lady chef, lady ranger, lady zoo marketing specialists!) Lo and behold, whilst my semi-weekly peek at YERF has revealed a drawing "Inspired by Nevada Barr's 'Track of the Cat.' " Hmm... sounds good.

I would love to put my blog into Livejournal (if for no other reason than the fact that they have a goat mascot!!) but I can't register - they say every single word I pick as a password isn't in the dictonary. Arg....

Oh, in case you are wondering why I am getting progressivly (or posessivly) drunk on coffee on a Tuesday afternoon, playing on the internet far far away from my work duties, I am schedualed to work SHEEP DAY and had to take off a few hours this week. Whoopie!!

And here (finally!) are the lyrics to "Black Eyed Dog." I have also included a bonus song. Whoopie again!!!

Black eyed dog he called at my door
The balck eyed dog he called for more

A black eyed dog he knew my name
A black eyed dog he knew my name
A black eyed dog
A black eyed dog

I'm growing old and I wanna go home, I'm growing old and I dont wanna know
I'm growing old and I wanna go home

Black eyed dog he called at my door
The balck eyed dog he called for more

The Rebel Jesus
by Jackson Browne (Covered by 7 Nations)

The streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season
And the merchants' windows are all bright
With the faces of the children
And the families hurrying to their homes
As the sky darkens and freezes
Will be gathering around their hearths and tables
Giving thanks for God's graces
And the birth of the rebel Jesus

They call him by the "Prince Of Peace"
And they call him by "The Saviour"
And they pray to him upon the sea
And in every bold endeavour
And they fill his churches with their pride and gold
As their faith in him increases
But they've turned the nature that I worship in
From a temple to a robber's den
In the words of the rebel Jesus

We guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions
And once a year when Christmas comes
We give to our relations
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should sieze us
But if anyone of us should interfere
In the business of why there are poor
They get the same as the rebel Jesus

But pardon me if I have seemed
To take the tone of judgement
For I've no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment
In a life of hardship and of earthly toil
There's a need for anything that frees us
So I bid you pleasure and I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan
On the side of the rebel Jesus

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