My head hurts... now yours can too.

I've been fighting a headache for the last 24 hours. I don't want to take ibuprofen (since there's a slim chance I could be medicating for two...) so i'm taking tylenol which doesn't really do much for me. So i'm a bit too tired to whip up a brand new entry.

But anonymous mom's post about the song her 3 1/2 year old daughter made up reminded me of my "youther years" when my friend and I used to write some twisted little dittys. Something about having a mental hospital in a nearby town must've inspired us. I shared them with my doctor once. He said "Uh, yeah, that's a pretty good sign that something wasn't quite right." Here's two of my favorites. Just imagine the words ccompanied by a cheap 1980's electronic keyboard.

Back to Bellevue
It was nice for a while
But all told it’s not our style.
We missed you, old Bellevue
We may roam but we are home.

We went so far
But we missed our bars.
Out there we cursed,
Behind we’d left our nurse.

We will never leave.
The world’s our pet peeve.
We’ll stay here all our years,
Drugged with you in old Bellevue.

The tale was told,
Our lives would fold.
They’d make us pay;
A life in the subway.

It was nice for a while
But all told it’s not our style.
We missed you, old Bellevue.
We may roam but we are home.

We’ll sleep well in our cell
Next to you in old Bellevue.


Playing in My Padded Cell
All the nurses wonder ‘bout me
They all wonder what I’m doing
Why is it they can’t see
That I’m where I want to be

Playing in my padded cell

They can’t seem to understand it
Why I stay here all the day
I like to have mental fits
They’ll grab the first aid kits

Playing in my padded cell

Doctors can’t make my brain work
They have tried and tried and tried
It may be just some dumb quirk
Now they say I’m just a jerk

I think we wrote these when we were twelve or thirteen years old. Far too young to be able to spell prescient...