A Simple Desultory Philippic
(How I Was Lyndon Johnsoned Into Submission)
Words & music bu Paul Simon 1965
|G |Bb |
I was Union Jacked, Kerouac'd
C |Eb |
John Birched, stopped and searched
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Rolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blind
|G |Bb |
I've been Ayn Randed, nearly branded
C |Eb |
Communist 'cos I'm lefthanded:
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That's the hand they use, well, never mind!
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I've been Walt Disneyed, Dis Disleyed
C |Eb |
John Lennoned, Krishna Menoned
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Walter Brennan punched out Cassius Clay
|G |Bb
I've heard the truth from Lenny Bruce
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and all my wealth won't buy me health
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So I smoke a pint of tea a day
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I knew a man his brain so small,
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He couldn't think of nothin' at all.
|C
He's not the same as you and me.
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He doesn't dig poetry. He's so unhip that
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When you say Dylan, he thinks you're talkin' about Dylan Thomas,
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Whoever he is.
|F |G |
The man ain't got no culture,
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But its alright, Ma,
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It's just sumpthin' I learned over in England.
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I've been James Joyced, Rolls Royced
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Mick Jaggered, silver daggered
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Andy Warhol won't you please come home?
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I've been mother, fathered, aunt and uncled
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Tom Wilsoned, Art Garfunkled
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Barry Kornfeld's mother's on the phone
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When in London, do as I do
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Find yourself a friendly haiku
G |D |G |
Go to sleep for ten or fifteen years
