On a greyhound bus,
Lord I’m traveling this morning
I’m going to Shreveport and on down to New Orleans
Been driving these highways,
Been doing things my way
It’s been making me lonesome, on’ry, and mean
“Kathy,” I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh,
“Michigan seems like a dream to me now,
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw;
I’ve gone to look for America.”
I loved a girl in Saginaw, Michigan
The daughter of a wealthy, wealthy man
But he called me that son of a Saginaw fisherman
And not good enough to claim his daughter’s hand
We’re goin’ to Michigan,
To see the sweetest gal in Kalamazoo,
A B C D E F G H I got a gal in Kalamazoo …
I feel uptight on a Saturday night
Nine o’ clock, the radio’s the only light
I hear my song and it pulls me through
Comes on strong, tells me what I got to do
I got to
Get up
Everybody’s gonna move their feet
Get down
Everybody’s gonna leave their seat
You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City
Oh, don’t give us none of your aggravation,
We had it with your discipline.
Oh, Saturday night’s alright for fighting,
Get a little action in.
Come Saturday morning,
I’m goin’ away with my friend,
We’ll Saturday-laugh more than half of the day…
Oh, I hear laughter in the rain,
Walking hand in hand with the one I love.
Oh, how I love the rainy days and the happy way I feel inside…
(Aside to Beck: Do you know the film that “Come Saturday Morning” comes from?)
(To Spoons: The Sterile Cuckoo, my association with song was I played it in a piano recital as a young girl)
Do you like Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain?
I saw her sitting in the rain
Raindrops falling on her
She didn’t seem to care
She sat there and smiled at me
Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain,
Telling me just what a fool I’ve been,
I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain,
And let me be alone again.
But the fool on the hill,
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head,
See the world spinning around…
Everybody plays the fool, sometime,
There’s no exception to the rule,
Listen, baby, it may be factual, may be cruel,
I ain’t lyin’, everybody plays the fool.
You gotta be
Cruel to be kind
In the right measure
Cruel to be kind
It’s a very good sign.
Someday I’ll be living in a big old city
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean
It’s survival in the city
When you live from day to day
City streets don’t have much pity
When you’re down, that’s where you’ll stay
In the city, oh, oh.
In the city
A boy is born in hard time Mississippi
Surrounded by four walls that ain’t so pretty
His parents give him love and affection
To keep him strong moving in the right direction
Living just enough, just enough for the city
As the snow flies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin’
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto (in the ghetto)
Morning has broken like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.
Praise for the singing,
Praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing, fresh from the world.
Oh what a beautiful morning,
Oh, what a beautiful day,
I’ve got a beautiful feeling,
Ever’ things goin’ my way…