A new song that just erupted from the depths of my whatever: The Buddhist Talkin' Blues For The New Millenium by Art Thieme -- August 9, 2000 -- 11:45 in the morning.

If you wanna vote for Bush and don't really want to do it,
Grease your vote in mutton suet,
Slide into Nader land,
And play right into George Bush's hand.
Your vote will fly away easy.
And the oval office stays sleazy.

Remember back in '63,
They gunned down Jack and we got LBJ,
We all thought we had an o.k. guy,
'Til Viet Nam showed us why,
He was bloodthirsty bum.
Just like the rest.
Didn't care about our lives at all.

You think ya got a good one in and a bad one out,
You put your foot in your mouth and you shake it all about,
You do the Hokey Pokey 'til the cows come home,
And the bottom line remains that the cows are home.
And you are rollin' in it.
'Cause you made your bed in a cow pasture.

So here's what to do for a good guy to be your prez,
Just close both eyes and pick the one that'll do more good,
For the powerless people in the neighborhood.
What you get is still up in the air,
But at least you put in your two cents.
In a fairly decent system.

Now some folks say while they analyze our Eagle,
That if votes could change anything, they'd be illegal,
And that's truth -- one by one,
But taken together they can get a job done.
Might be the wrong job.
Or a hand job,
But at least someone'll be happy.
And get a good night's sleep,
For the next four years.
Maybe eight !

'Cause a vote ain't much but it's all we've got,
To fight the corporate money grubbing crooks,
Who seem to get more and more and more,
While we, by the millions, join the ranks of the poor.

We could turn into animals like old Ted Kazinsky,
Or take our anger and bomb Oklahoma City,
Or teach our kids to shoot their kindergarten pals,
And show 'em how to pray to guns like they were gods themselves.
Yeah, whatever we want to do,
God is on our side.
And you'll have to pry Him from my cold, dead fingers!

So what's the answer to my diatribe?
"Those're Blowin' In The Wind'," said Bobby the scribe.
Ain't no answers that I can see,
Other 'an lean toward the good and do your best.
It don't rhyme at all,
But that's O.K.
Love to all,
Old Art Thieme

(END OF MY "BUDDHIST TALKIN BLUES FOR THE NEW MILLENIUM"-----by Art Thieme----August 9th, 2000 -- 11:30 in the morning. Central daylight time.)