THE CURTAIN'S COMING DOWN

(A remnant from my drinking Days )



The Kudzoo's creepin' over Georgia,

The bamboo's shootin' up in Maine

And up in the Adirondacks

They're cussin' the acid rain;

And the Killer Bees are swarmin'

On up from Mexico

And ol' Algor says the globe is warmin'

Ever where you go.

Now if you believe these direful signs

Put forth on CNN

Better chug that brew in front of you

This world is like to end

Yes drink that brew before you

And buy the house a round;

There's no use tryin' to keep from dyin'

The curtain's comin' down. 



And the drought is scorching up the corn crops,

El Nino's bringin' endless rains,

The fire ants are burnin' up Texans

And the grasshoppers are chewing' up the grain

The ozone layer's a'thinnin'

And got a great big hole

It's down to the final innin'

'Bout ever where you go.

So chug that brew before you

And buy the house a round;

No use tryin' to keep from dyin'

The curtain's comin' down



And the garbage is fillin' up the landfills

The oil slicks are mucking' up the coasts

And plutonium pollution 'round Chernoble

Is turnin' the Ukrainians to toast,

Huge forest fires are blazin'

From Oregon to Bainf to Yellowstone,

Disaster's a' waitin' to consume you

'Bout any old where you're goin'



So chug that brew before you

And put away that frown,

There's no amount of worry

Gonna turn this thing around

Might as well have yourself a party

And let your sorrows drown

Ain't no use your tryin' to keep from dyin'

The curtain's comin' down.



Oh the narks chasing rings in Nicaragua

Don't seem to have much hope

And a lot of young kids are shunning agua

And are 'doin' booze and dope;

Priests dressed like sheep are groping kids

And preachers chasin' whores

And senators are linin' up

Outside the call girls' doors.

 

So better drink that wine before you

Repent and seek the Lord

Black clouds are loomin' o'er you,

While the organ plays dark chords

Repent and eat that wafer

And get down on your knees,

There's no place else much safer,

Forgive us, Jesus, Please?


Begun in 1988, found buried in a folder and reworked some in 2007.

Gene Pinkney 3/20/08

 


This song, as it were, was toyed with back in 1988 when I was visiting my English teaching mentor, Rufus Bellamy at his boathouse in Castine, Maine. The same exact boathouse famed poet, Robert Lowell was renting when he committed suicide years earlier. The evil omens looming back then seem tame compared with the terrifying news casts of these last days, however. The last verse was tacked on from a Christian perspective I didn't have back in 88. I hope the brew before all of us, will continue to be communion wine. For we are living in the 'perilous times' referenced in II Timothy chapter three.(KJV)