Throb

Pheasant Plucker

I'm a mother pheasant plucker.
I pluck mother pheasants.
I'm the pleasantest mother pheasant plucker,
That ever plucked a mother pheasant.
Actually, ...
I'm Not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's son.
But I'll stay and pluck the pheasants
Till the pheasant plucking 's done!

Like this

Ray LaMontagne
Shelter
Tabbed by Dave Hamilton

Chords - ( ) are optional, < > are hammered-on occasionally

----C--F/D--G--Cadd9/B--Am--E7--F---Bb--D#---

Intro - [C] [F/D] [G] [C] [Cadd9/B] [Am] [E7] [F] [C] [G] X2

[C]I guess you [F/D]don't need it [G]
I guess you don't [C]want me [Cadd9/B]to repeat it [Am]
But everything I [E7]have to give I'll [F]give to you [C] [G]
[C]It's not [F/D]like we planned it [G]
You tried to stay, [C]but you [Cadd9/B]could not stand it [Am]
To see me shut down [E7]slow
As though it was an [F]easy thing to do [C]
[G]Listen when

[C]All of this around[F] us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do[C] [G]
[C]You will [E]shelter me [F]my love[C] [G]
[C]And I [F\D]will [G]shelter yo[F]u
I will shel[C]ter you [F/D]
[G] [C] [Cadd9/B] [Am] [E7] [F] [C] [G]

[C]I left [F/D]you heartbroken,
[G]but not until [C]those very [Cadd9/B]words were spoken[Am]
Has anybody [E7]ever made such a [F]fool out of you [C] [G]
[C]It's hard [F/D]to believe it [G]
Even as my [C]eyes [Cadd9/B]do see it [Am]
The very things that [E7]make you live are [F]killing you [C]
[G]Listen when

[C]All of this around[F] us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do[C] Hey[G]
[C]you will [E]shelter me [F]my love [C] [G]
[C]I [Bb]will [F]shelter you [D#]
I will [C]shelter you [Bb]
I will [F]shelter you [D#]
I will [C]shelter you [Bb]
I will [F]shelter you [D#]
[C] [F/D] [G] [C] [Cadd9/B] [Am] [E7] [F] [C]

[G]Listen When
[C]All of this around[F] us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do[C] Hey[G]
[C]you will [E]shelter me [F]my love [C] [G]
[C]I [Bb]will [F]shelter you [C]
If you [F]shelter me too[C]
I will [F]shelter [C]you
I will [F]shelter [C]you

An Affirmation of Cluelessness

An Affirmation of cluelessness - a found chunk of writing by a wonderfully interesting man who works where I do:

I am the son of one of you people, I married one of you people, I've fathered one of you people. All of my neices are you people, as is my daugher-in-law. I am friends with many of you people. But I still, after all these years, haven't a clue about how you people operate

Funeral Blues

George shares with me one of our friend Jen's favorite poems. Holy shit. It follows:

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

- W. H. Auden