Ballad of the Bootleg
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Lyrics
We didn't think about it much
Just knew we had to do it
The last recording we tried so hard
We barely made it through it
The touring never ended
Left us bankrupt and bereft
We got back to Seattle
And I smashed up what was left
We had to go back to the egg
Save us from ambition
No songs, no plans, no purpose
We were simply going fishing
Not everyone could understand
Including those involved
We lost one finger off our hand
One less to smash the wall
We convened on Sunday morning
And commenced upon a case
Jim on rock and roll guitar
So I propped up the bass
We did Sugar Shag of Go-Go's
The Old Fruit Basket Blues
Got some barking from the neighbors
There's no other Sunday blues
Ted wrote a song on 39
Going down the block for beer
We wrote a song on 40
That no one ever needs to hear
Aaron Mockin brought some weed
And reinforcements for the fridge
But he never thought to tell us
He'd jump off the Aurora Bridge
Bruno kept the tape a-rolling
Despite wine and Joey Klein
When he roped us round the 414
It was gorilla time
We made a song about Chris Mars
I don't remember singing
Unlike the Mastered Auden
No heaving on the ceiling
We played until the tape ran out
The little Chuck still twisted
When Ted and I woke on the floor
Jim had gone a-missing
We listened back weeks later
Even though we were afraid
Mixed our pumping breath it up
And that's how pure gold is made