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Alright, then, I'll Go to Hell

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  • Alright, then, I'll Go to Hell

    Spare me the good intentions of my betters,
    The ones who want what’s best for me.
    Shut up, they explained, we know just what to do,
    And, no, you aren’t allowed to disagree.
    Take my money, soul, and children, push me out of the way;
    I’m just too dumb and backward to be free.

    Now someday I’ll have to explain to a curious sprout
    How I came to follow this particular route.
    Well, first I had a thirst for a taste of something stout,
    But the barman says we’re in the middle of a drought.
    If I can’t get a drink sometime today,
    I know for sure there’ll be hell to pay.
    I wander down the street. I start to scream and shout.
    Things have gotten too weird, without any doubt,
    Like in Alfred Jarry’s play that freaked everybody out
    Where the king’s a fat puppet but he’s got a lot of clout.
    I wander some more, trying to find my own way.
    I’d rather be lost than have to do what they say.

    I’ll live my own kind of weird, and I’ll die that way, too.
    But not by myself. I want to die weird with you.
    And if we go to hell, at least we’ll go together.
    If the company feels right, I don’t care about the weather.

    The good people avoid us like some kind of disease.
    We’re irregular elements; everyone agrees.
    Like two unrelated harmonies in different keys,
    We can try to make it work but there’s no guarantees.
    I don’t care how it sounds, as long as we’re free
    To be as stupid and nasty as we want to be.
    I’m just a dirty old man made of bologna and cheese
    Who loves a pretty Russian pagan that dances on her knees.
    I like her braids and red dress. I don’t like her fees.
    But she likes the way I dance and lets me do what I please.
    I love you, Vesna; I hope you can see
    How happy I’d be if you were the death of me.

    If I’m going to go to hell, I don’t want to go alone.
    Arm-in-arm with you I’ll face any unknown.
    I’m not scared of hell; I don’t care about the weather.
    I’ll take on any kind of trouble as long as we’re together.

    How I wound up on the ground I can’t quite recall,
    But as long as I’m here I guess I’ll go for a crawl
    To see what I can see through the crack in my wall,
    To check up on the others who missed their windfall.
    Bertha was out there for a while trying to be a country rocker.
    She was doing pretty well, had her own stalker.
    Now she’s on the couch just dying to tell it all,
    Painting pictures with words in her warbling drawl.
    She paints the give and the take. She paints the rise and the fall.
    She says she hates to rob Peter but she’s got to pay Paul.
    She’s got a bad memory of a naughty sleepwalker,
    Not much to look at but a damn good talker.

    I say there’s nowhere, heaven or earth, I wouldn’t go with you,
    So if you’re going to go to hell I guess I want to go there, too.
    If we’re going to go to hell at least we’ll go together.
    If the company’s just right who cares about the weather.

    I stopped being an I one day, and now am just an Are
    Who goes as far as he can go. Sometimes I go too far.
    But there’s a little bit of fun left in my Mason jar
    That just might help get me to the next bar.
    I don’t know what I’ll do then; I don’t have a plan.
    I don’t know what I’m doing now, whatever I still can.
    I have no idea how things got so bizarre,
    And I can’t even remember how I got this new scar.
    But right now through the wall I hear another cheap guitar
    Being played by some nobody who could’ve been a star.
    By the end of the night she might have a new fan,
    And some other time I’ll tell you sprouts what it’s like to be this man.

    Maybe I’ll wind up in hell; maybe that’s the way this chapter ends.
    But if hell is where I’m going I’ll see all my stupid friends.
    I’m sure that we’ll get used to it; I don’t care about the weather
    Because even though we’ll be in hell at least we’ll be together.

  • #2
    A perspective I'd not considered, I'll admit, but again, honesty pushes to the fore.