So I had a stroke of genius (or maybe just a stroke) yesterday while dancing with my rake on the lawn. A whole new set of lyrics to the main song of the stage play Camelot somehow emerged from the tunnel. And even though I'm no Alan J Lerner when it comes writing, I'm pretty pleased with my satirical words to the song.
If you are much younger than I you might have a tough time remembering the play much less the song. But almost everyone knows about King Arthur and the story of the perfect kingdom which wasn't so perfect. It was adapted from T H White's novel "The Once and Future King." And the analogy to our current situation is pretty hard to miss.
If you forget the melody (or have it mixed up with a Pink Floyd hit) you can watch this short YouTube version to refresh your memory. It may seem corny to you, but a good can of corny might be just what we need in these times we are trying to forget even as they are occurring.
While doing a little background research on my creative urges I came across several others who had the same stroke symptoms as I had and even before mine. So it's not so original after all, but I like mine best. (which, I'm sure isn't much of a shocker) It seems a radio personality named Rusty Humphries did a different version a while back. You can check his out here. I also found a reference to the term "Obamalot" on the website of the Illinois Review by a writer named Mark Rhodes. Kudos to both of them.
In any case, here is my version. I hope you get a chuckle from it because you probably won't be chuckling if our "Once King" is also our "Future King."
Spoken:
Each evening, from December to December,
Before you drift to sleep upon your cot,
Think back on all the tales that you remember
Of Obamalot.
Ask every person if he's heard the story,
And tell it strong and clear if he has not,
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory
Called Obamalot.
To the tune of "Camelot": Lyrics by Grant Davies
The budget must be postponed until next year!
A law was made a recent moon ago here:
The citizens shall not determine their own lot.
And there's a legal limit to their rights here
in Obamalot.
Next year's taxes are unknown until December
but payable "ape" fifteenth right on the dot.
By order, all over "250" pay more here,
And by a lot.
Obamalot! Obamalot!
I know it sounds a bit bizarre.
But in Obamalot, Obamalot
That's how conditions are.
Bad banks may never fail because of bailout.
The cars we build may never disappear.
In short, there's simply not
A more pathetic spot
For happily-self deluding than here
In Obam-a-lot.
Obamalot! Obamalot!
I know it gives a person pause,
But in Obamalot, Obamalot
Those are the legal laws.
The funds will always slush upon the chosen.
The jobs we had may never reappear.
In short there's simply not, a more delusional spot,
For happily-ever-aftering than here
in Obam-a-lot.
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