When I visited my friend Maureen in Arizona, we were waxing nostalgic and listening to some of the music we loved in college. She put Concrete Blonde's greatest hits CD in her car's player and we were tooling around town singing along. One of my favories, "Tomorrow Wendy" came on and I mentioned to her that she should make sure this song is played at my funeral. Then the bridge came:
"I told the priest,
don't count on any second coming.
God got His ass kicked
the first time He came down here slumming.
He had the balls to come
the gall to die
and then forgive us.
No I don't wonder why
I wonder what He thought it would get us."
Hmm, maybe not the best thing to play at a funeral of someone's whose family is still essentially Catholic.
In the words of Bill Lumberg, "Yeahh, that'd be great."
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