Saturday, February 14, 2009

Springsteen Superbowl Sunday ~ Feb 1, 2009

Springsteen Superbowl Sunday
February 1, 2009


Dominion is no longer
Mainly because of the meat
With a steady ring, cash registers bring
Vegetarians to Metro on Superbowl Springsteen
"7-layer Mexican dip, that's it!
Yes, I must have it!"
Bumping into Kirsh out on the street
"long time no see!
you’re a social worker with a degree?
f**k, you rock Amy!"
Carrying purple tortilla chips with the dip
I still need cans of Creemore, dammit!
Today it's about the half-time show
So from a subway station, I cellphone
"Graydon isn't drunk yet, is he?
At the other end, he said he'd come get me"
In a brown van, a bald-headed mate
"I'm mad at you," to Jeff I say
After all, it was my birthday that day!"
I rarely leave the downtown core
But now I'm driven north of Bloor
"are they paying you to write?", asks he
"are they paying you to sing?", asks me
Despite the pay, we do it anyway!
Graydon is charming, funny and cranky
I'm glad we're still friends, frankly
Arriving at Merchant's, a bachelor zone
Is it on the bed, where the coats go?
I can't believe I'm not feeling the smoke
Hyde and Eric from That 70s Show
Are Graydon and Merchant from Scarborough
With a bottomless bottle of Baileys
We first met back in the nineteen eighties
A soundtrack by Terence Trent D'Arby
Played the Superbowl at the Dixon house party
High on mushrooms, weed and red wine
My livingroom had bleachers and a forty yard line
"who could turn the world on with her smile?
who could take a nothing day
and suddenly make it seem worthwhile?"
The Mary Tyler Moore theme made us laugh till we cried
And the guitar cat singing it, was fit to be tied
He just didn't understand, we were all so fried!
"don't ever change", Graydon flatters me
But I think he's drunk, not to take seriously
He's a father now, can you believe?
A beautiful baby girl, framed atop the tv
"Jeff, I really didn't know you always wanted to be"
Merchant rolls a joint on a Doors music book
"hey, did you give me this?", causing me to look
Merchant's my lunch date at the Berkeley Cafe
Two times per week, forty minutes a day
A treasured friend, he puts up with me
Like the roadrunner, he honks a great BEEP!
On the coffee table, a baby guitar sits
In it's own stand, a novelty lit
"Chris, I must have this!"
Suddenly a sharp edge does prick
From a retro vinyl chair where I sit
"Dammit, Merchant ... can you fix it?!"
The Pittsburg Steelers are massive men
Even compared to ... "who's the other team again?"
Merchant and I try, but we hog the dip
When Graydon goes to Broadview without it
"The Boss will rock the show, ya know
I can’t wait, how much f**king longer to go?!"
The surround sound Superbowl is freaking me out
Startling me that I turn about
The door to the hallway, a waft of roast beef
Graydon returns carrying a bag of green leaves
Knuckles collide for mixed nuts in a tub
Aren’t Superbowl snacks what we all really love?
Merchant serves gnocchi swimming in sauce
"Mmmm... this is good but, I want The Boss!"
Lakeport Pilsner, the boys do drink
My Creemore cans will wait, I think
The mind wanders back to the sands of Kew Beach
When Factory Girl caused my bare feet to leap
Jeff sang with dreadlocks, Chris strummed the Stones
In a bathing suit towel, I'm no longer alone
Friends a long time, with gaps imbetween
"Nice to reminisce, but I want Springsteen!"
A box of cigarettes with a flip-top lid
The pack of DK's has a Canadian flag on it
Football players have left the screen
The half-time show by billions, will be seen
“Step back from the wings and the guacamole!"
“It's Bruce Springsteen, finally!"
The Boss and the Big Man are silhouette
"Tenth Avenue Freeze-out? Holy shit!"
My knees firmly planted in front of the screen
I think I may scream, like I'm sixteen
Across the stage, a rocker to and fro
Bruce leaps atop the black piano
A leaning back bend from a microphone stand
He has the crowd in the palm of his hand
"oh no, watch out... he too's on his knees!"
Sliding toward the camera at record speed
Merchant on the couch, Graydon on the chair
Half-time in Florida, why aren't we there?!
With pumping fists, Born to Run is it
"you just can't get better rock and roll than this!"
With spinning arm over guitar strings, very funny
Bruce Springsteen is Pete Townsend, suddenly
The E Street Band f**king rocks, ain't no lie
Born to Run, the greatest youth anthem of all time
The new song, Working on a Dream is backed
By a hugh choir, the Mrs, and Stevie Van Zant
Clarence Clemons, "where'd ya get that hat?"
Incredibly cool in black, the Big Man on sax
"Paul Shaffer on keys? No, it can't be!"
Because Shaffer don’t live on E Street
But of course, it’s a bald-headed Roy Bittan
I can't help but think of the missing Dan
“he could throw that "hail mary" by you
make you look like a fool"
Glory Days! Oh this is so cool!
A referee gives the signal, "no overtime!"
But the horn section's up front, forming a line
Around his waist, the guitar is spinning
Like a hula-hoop, Bruce, ya gotta be kidding!
"I'm going to Disneyland!", Bruce shouts to his fans
The best 12 minutes on a Sunday I’ve ever had, man!
“The Concert for Kampuchea, Jeff?”, it’s been a long time
“With a red cover and Robert Plant, that record’s mine!”
"Stunning", he tells me just three times
Graydon, your mama raised you fine
Chivalry’s not dead
A perfect gentleman, Jeff says
I’m twenty pounds heavier with beer, chips and dip
F**k, why‘d I smoke those joints? God, dammit!
Merchant, tomorrow I will definitely phone
To see how you’re doing, following the anal probe
Thanks for sharing the dip and the Superbowl show
But now, I really, really must go
Heading westbound, in a cab flying high
"it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive"