Today is Saturday, the 22nd of June 2019.
Kylie is calling from Colorado.
The gig in Springfield, Colorado last night was a disaster, Kylie says. It was hell or high water.
What happened, I ask. And I think you are using 'hell or high water' in a wrong way. I fact it is informal used to say that something will definitely happen or be done even though other events or situations might make it difficult like 'I will be there on time, come hell or high water'.
Do you think this is the right time to be a smart-ass, Kylie asks.
Am I allowed to take off this poncho now, the llama asks.
Why is the llama wearing a poncho, I ask.
Yeah, answer that question, you queen of stereotypes, the llama grumbles.
The mayor opened the Town Hall around 8.00 p.m., Kylie says, but the only paying visitor that came was Martha, an elderly librarian from Prichett on the route 160. She tried to dance during the first fifteen minutes of our concert and than fell asleep.
Does not sound funny, I say.
I always told you I cannot sing, Kylie says, and I do not play any instruments.
No musician can these days, I say, and they fill the greatest stadions. Try it with a great lightshow next time. What did you do in the first fifteen minutes of that gig?
I tried a little folk music, Kylie said. Like Joan Baez or Lonely Mitchell.
This land is your land;
this land is my land
from California to the New York Island…
Sounds…, I say.
Terrible, the llama shouts in the background.
Than, Kylie continues, the llama made its grand entrance with poncho, sombrero and the only instrument the stage saw that night.
What instrument, I ask.
Panpipe, Kylie says.
Stereotypes, the llama shouts out, this girl is full of stereotypes.
The panpipes are gone, Kylie says. The llama ate them. As I said it was a disaster. But the mayor and the librarian went home early, together and after the major gave us the keys to the Town Hall to lock up the door after ourselves.
They are engaged now, the llama shouts. And they will marry next month. And those panpipes tastes like toothpicks.
Time to make some good weather, I think, may come what may or hell or high water.
Hey, remember, I say, only six states to go.
Ah, bite me, Kylie says and hangs up.
And Michael David Rosenberg sings...
ReplyDeleteWas it the trick of the light?
Or a shot in the dark?
Was it hell or high water that broke our hearts?
Was it something I said?
Or just a cruel twist of fate?
Was it hell or high water
Is it too late?
Oh, is it too late?
Man, all my life I've been
Searching for someone
To show me how it feels to be loved
And how to love somebody back
And after stumbling through the years
I thought I found you, just to see you fading out into the night
Was it the trick of the light?
Or a shot in the dark?
Was it hell or high water that broke her hearts?
Was it something you said?
Or just a cruel twist of fate?
Was it hell or high water
And is it too late?
See, all my life I've been
Silently reaching for
A hand to hold, to warm the colder
Sparkle lights, to guide me through, alright?
And after stumbling through the years
I thought I found you, just to see you fading out into the night
Was it the trick of the light?
Or a shot in the dark?
Was it hell or high water
That broke our hearts?
Was it something we did?
Or just a cruel twist of fate?
Was it hell or high water
And is it too late?
Was it a knife in my back?
Or a fork in the road?
Was it hell or high water that left us alone?
Is it really game over?
Is it really checkmate?
Was it hell or high water and is it too late?
Oh, is it too late?
Was it the trick of the light?
Or a shot in the dark?
Was it hell or high water that broke her heart?
Passenger - Hell or High Water