Sorry Day in Aggieland

I remember College Station
In the big Hurricane
We knew that when it reached us
We might get some rain

Wasn’t that a sorry day (a sorry day)
A sorry day (a sorry day)
A sorry day great God that morning
When the Aggie’s all got wet.

The gas, it all was rationed
The people screamed in fear
Refugees from Houston
Had bought up all the beer.

Wasn’t that a sorry day….

The post office was closed down
We couldn’t get our mail
The golf course was pelted
With golf balls the size of hail

Wasn’t that a sorry day….

Pools of water gathered
On low spots of the earth
The stoners broke for Austin
And the straights ran to Fort Worth

Wasn’t that a sorry day….

The taxi wouldn’t move
And all the Aggie’s moaned
The rain had gotten bad enough
That football was postponed

Wasn’t that a sorry day….

Hey, you got a band?

We’re looking for some bands to help us engage in some viral marketing .  Are you in a band?  Do you have a friend who is in one?  Post a link to your music here, or else send it to Kit at dreamcafe dot com, and we’ll give it a listen.  Ideally this should involve good publicity both for our project and any bands we end up working with.

Thanks.

New song lyrics, waiting for a setting.

…or some other song it can be sung to. Anyway, *ahem* here’s my latest chart-buster:

My TV is on the food channel
Looking for new things to eat.
But when that music starts
It goes straight to my heart
Which stirs, shakes, and then skips a beat.
The palms of my hands become moist
I reach for fresh pepper to grate
I set the oven on kill
And hold myself still
As my soul starts to salivate
Chorus:

I want to have Alton Brown’s baby
Just cuz I love how he cooks.
We’d make a child, in the end
That’s a fabulous blend
Of his talent, along with his looks.

My eyes remain glued to the TV
In rapture, I don’t even blink.
Each kitchen applience
With gastronomical science
(Everything but the kitchen sink)
Is grist for a splendid concoction.
If I can’t cook it, it isn’t his fault.
I’m in love with his eyes
His shoulders, his thighs
His voice and his kosher salt.
Repeat chorus

Cats Laughing

Will Shetterly has been putting some old Cats Laughing tunes online.  I miss that band the way you miss a lover you’ve never gotten over.  I’ve been listening to the downloads, and I’m agreeably disappointed to find that my drumming didn’t suck as much as I thought it did at the time.  Emma and Lojo sing like, well, like really good singers.