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Barth

Dusseldorf

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Listening to Joni Mitchell's "Blue" for the umpteenth time last night, I wondered whether the "redneck" from "the Grecian isle" has ever met the clown whose nose was "red-do" or the dwarf with "bad breath and a very good tan."

After all the redneck "did the goat dance very well [and] gave me back my smile" and the clown or dwarf helped the narrator to remember "how to laugh / And I never, ever forget it again."

I shudder to think about how I would have grown up without Joni and am so grateful to have Regina pick up the slack today.

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Listening to Joni Mitchell's "Blue" for the umpteenth time last night, I wondered whether the "redneck" from "the Grecian isle" has ever met the clown whose nose was "red-do" or the dwarf with "bad breath and a very good tan."

After all the redneck "did the goat dance very well [and] gave me back my smile" and the clown or dwarf helped the narrator to remember "how to laugh / And I never, ever forget it again."

I shudder to think about how I would have grown up without Joni and am so grateful to have Regina pick up the slack today.

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(Thought I'd just post the lyrics)

In Dusseldorf I met a clown

His nose, it was red

In Gelterkinden I forgot to frown

Then remembered again

In Paris I saw a big fish

Swimming slow in the Siene

It made me hopeful that someday our water

Would be breathable again...

In Frankfurt I heard eins zwei drei

Counting cookies and no one was shot

In Berlin stopped by the Polizei

For drunk driving and everyone smiled

In Prague I knew I'd been a witch

Burnt alive, a pyre of Soviet kitsch

It made me miss my Moscow muttdom

It made me miss my New York nothing...

In Montpelier I stayed in a chateau

A boy climbed into my bed and he knew no boundaries

In Amsterdam I got quite crazy

It might have been all the tulips and canals

Or it might have been all that hash, and in

Barcelon, buenos dias, chocolato, le Picasso

And in Brussels, clean-cut hostel

And in London, me and the French existentialists...

In Corsica I floated away, all the way to Marseilles

I should have held an after party for all the thoughts I didn't say

In Dusseldorf I met a dwarf

With bad breath and a really good tan

In Gelterkinden I remembered how to laugh

And I never ever forgot it again

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OK. I'll bite:

Here are the lyrics from Joni Mitchell's california to which I was referring:

quote:
I met a redneck on a Grecian isle

Who did the goat dance very well

He gave me back my smile

But he kept my camera to sell

Oh the rogue, the red red rogue

He cooked good omelettes and stews

And I might have stayed on with him there

But my heart cried out for you, California

and of course, this is the same song where Joni sings about

quote:
Sitting in a park in Paris, France

Reading the news and it sure looks bad

in a story which our beloved Regina has updated:

quote:
joseph and mary are so sad

sitting in a park in paris, france reading the news and it sure looks bad

a pile of empty postcards on their laps

nothing bright to write and nothing good to send

Really, really, really. Regina is a gift to those of us who have missed our does of Joni wisdom for so many years.

quote:
Originally posted by Reginaoverdose:

(Thought I'd just post the lyrics)

In Dusseldorf I met a clown

His nose, it was red

In Gelterkinden I forgot to frown

Then remembered again

In Paris I saw a big fish

Swimming slow in the Siene

It made me hopeful that someday our water

Would be breathable again...

In Frankfurt I heard eins zwei drei

Counting cookies and no one was shot

In Berlin stopped by the Polizei

For drunk driving and everyone smiled

In Prague I knew I'd been a witch

Burnt alive, a pyre of Soviet kitsch

It made me miss my Moscow muttdom

It made me miss my New York nothing...

In Montpelier I stayed in a chateau

A boy climbed into my bed and he knew no boundaries

In Amsterdam I got quite crazy

It might have been all the tulips and canals

Or it might have been all that hash, and in

Barcelon, buenos dias, chocolato, le Picasso

And in Brussels, clean-cut hostel

And in London, me and the French existentialists...

In Corsica I floated away, all the way to Marseilles

I should have held an after party for all the thoughts I didn't say

In Dusseldorf I met a dwarf

With bad breath and a really good tan

In Gelterkinden I remembered how to laugh

And I never ever forgot it again

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