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Pastimes : Deadheads -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: JakeStraw who wrote (3632)	6/4/1998 12:26:00 PM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 49844

Well I had an old dog and his name was Blue Yes, I had an old dog and his name was Blue Well I had an old dog and his name was Blue Bet ya five dollars he's a good dog too Old Blue chased a possum up a holler (hollow) limb Blue chased a possum up a holler limb Blue chased a possum up a holler limb The possum growled, Blue whined at him Bye bye Blue You good dog you Bye bye Blue You good dog you When old Blue died he died so hard He shook the ground in my back yard We lowered him down with a golden chain And every link we called his name Bye bye Blue You good dog you Bye bye Blue You good dog you My old Blue he was a good old hound You'd hear him hollering miles around When I get to Heaven first thing I'll do I'll grab my horn and call for Blue Bye bye Blue You good dog you Bye bye Blue You good dog you Traditional, Arranged and Adapted by Roger McGuinn

To: JakeStraw who wrote (3632)	6/6/1998 11:28:00 AM
From: Raymond James Norris	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 49844

I'm still trying to figure out why and what you meant by your "Arabian Wind" poem. I think it was distasteful and insulting. Using stereotypes and singing of blood and murder only exhibits what little knowledge you have on the subject. I would like to not see posts of that nature. Ray

To: JakeStraw who wrote (3632)	6/7/1998 8:21:00 PM
From: AugustWest	Respond to of 49844

SAINT STEPHEN Saint Stephen with a rose In and out of the garden he goes Country garland in the wind and the rain Wherever he goes the people all complain Stephen prosper in his time Well he may and he may decline Did it matter? Does it now? Stephen would answer if he only knew how Wishing well with a golden bell Bucket hanging clear to Hell Hell halfway 'twixt now and then Stephen fill it up and lower down and lower down again Ladyfinger dipped in moonlight Writing "what for?" across the morning sky Sunlight splatters dawn with answers Darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned Several seasons with their treasons Wrap the babe in scarlet covers, call it your own Did he doubt or did he try? Answers aplenty in the bye and bye Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills One man gathers what another man spills Saint Stephen will remain All he's lost he shall regain Seashore washed in the suds and the foam Been here so long he's got to calling it home Fortune come a crawling, Calliope woman Spinning that curious sense of your own Can you answer? Yes I can But what would be the answer to the answer man? High green chilly winds and windy vines in loops around the twisted shafts of lavender, they're crawling to the sun Underfoot the ground is patched with climbing arms of ivy wrapped around the manzanita, stark and shiny in the breeze Wonder who will water all the children of the garden when they sigh about the barren lack of rain and droop so hungry 'neath the sky? William Tell has stretched his bow till it won't stretch no furthermore and/or it may require a change that hasn't come before. -Hunter