I Wore Red To Target

I wore red to Target
Not the best idea
I wore red to Target
And everybody near
Asked me “do you work here?”
Said “can you help me miss?”
Come on don’t you know
I can’t take much more of this

Guess I was asking for it
Cause look what I started
Had it coming to me when
I wore red to Target

Tried hiding in the bathroom
I thought that would be safer
‘Til someone said “hey miss
We’re out of toilet paper!”
If one more person bugs me
I swear I’ll flip my lid
This woman came up to me
And that’s just what she did

Guess I was asking for it
Cause look what I started
Had it coming to me when
I wore red to Target

I could have gone to another market
I could have worn blue or green
But I had to go to Target tell me what did it mean
Did it mean did it mean
Did it mean did it mean

I made up some fake discounts
I gave her wrong directions
I told her there were frying pans
In the electronics section
Then I felt so much better
And everything was fine
Until when I discovered
I was in back of her on line

Guess I was asking for it
Cause look what I started
Had it coming to me when
I wore red to Target

This is another poem that I published many moons ago but added some lyrics to make it in to a song. It also happens to be the first recorded CheeseBergens song that my 9 year old daughter sings. Let me know what you think.

Also, the music is free to listen to, but if anyone is so inclined to make a donation, all funds will be given to the Ovation Music Fund, a nonprofit dedicated to helping underserved kids pay for music school tuitions.

http://ovationmusicfund.org/

Rock From Behind the Scenes to Center Stage

I think on every music scene there is one person that everyone is going to meet sooner or later, and Bruce Duff happens to be that person. It probably all owes to the fact that he is not only in several bands but has also worked in just about every capacity possible behind the music scene as well. Interested? You can read more about Bruce here.

duff

The Plight of Snowball: A Dog Lost In A Cat’s Body

Snowball wouldn’t bat at socks
Or deign to use the litter box
She’d no use for that feline stuff
Tried making her meow a ruff

Her mother neared end of her whits
And wished her dear would only quit
But it was neither whim nor hobby
A canine in a feline’s body

And though her mom would fret and kvetch
Snowball brought a stick to fetch
Preferred to chase round the mailman
Then digging through a garbage can

She rather liked to chew one bones
Which beefed up her testosterone
But the elusive canine copy
Never did her ears go floppy

Nor could she seek an operation
To change the outcome of gestation
But other cats, Snowball they feared
And dogs, well they just found her weird

And rolled their eyes as they walked past
So poor Snowball was an outcast
And so a loner til that day
When all alone Snowball did play

Until the day she ran across
A cow who was born as a horse.

Driving With My Blinker On Again

Driving in my car in the middle of the day
Hoping that I’m able to remember my way
I start and stop can’t recall is it left or right
So I pull the switch and there goes on my signal light

Chorus:

I’m driving with my blinker on again
You never know how this will end
Will I make a right or left or even turn you’ll never guess
I’m driving with my blinker on again

Well at one point I’m sure I did intend to turn
Now you’re asking me where my driving I did learn
Well I’m pretty sure it was the school for the crazy
Directionally challenged and curmudgeonly old ladies

Chorus

Bridge:

You were getting pretty hopeful down on Ave B
But now that we’re on M you’ve nearly given up on me
That light is winking at you and it’s driving you insane
You’d try to get around me too bad it’s a single lane

Well it’s finally time to lose me at any cost
Might go mile out or you could end up getting lost
Try to turn right but suddenly out of the blue
I decide to make that right, right in front of you

Chorus

Not as rock themed…but possibly another for the AOL!

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To The Young, Dark Lord On His 14th Birthday

The fire’s burning bright
And the air is blowing cold
The robed one speaks in tongues
A vision to behold

He holds the knife above
And still the flames do smolder
And taps it on each side
Of the young one’s shoulder

The blood begins to pour
And so awash with sins
For midnight strikes the hour,
The ritual begins

The music beckons low
The chanting starts once more
For the young dark lord
Who now reaches ten and four

And so the door flies open,
And so the music ceases
For the dramatic entrance
Of she on high, the priestess

Mother of all evil
And of the chosen one
In haste she breaks the chalice
And kneels before her son

But he just rolls his eyes
Says “Don’t know why you make
Such a big freakin’ deal
Let’s just cut the stupid cake!”

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#mommyanddaddystillworshipsatan

Happy Birthday to my son Jesse Bergen!

 

And sorry for the shameless self promotion, but I see no better media attachment than that of our family band’s video for Mommy and Daddy Worship Satan. For those who didn’t see it yet, enjoy!