|
I posted this on another thread. I was actually going to record it some day, if I ever got around to it (maybe TFT will do it). For now, just think up your own blues background, and imagine you're Ted Kennedy stuck in an airport somewhere with some pea-brained uniform asking you why you're a bad American, and sing away.........
THE TALKIN' T S A BLUES (by li'l ol' me)
I booked a little trip to the Florida Keys A week of sun and a light sea breeze Grabbed the wife and the luggage, we were on our way But we didn’t reckon with the T S A!
Made the check-in counter in plenty of time, Proceeded to the security line, Took off my belt, took off my shoes, And then I learned to sing the T S A blues.
They said I’m on a no-fly list I must be a famous terrorist Osama must be my best pal, And I was a Qaeda, ‘cause my name was Al.
They made me spit into a cup, And that cleared the confusion up, They couldn’t match my D N A, So, “good bye sir, and have a nice day!”
We left to go and catch our plane, Whispered these guys are insane A uniform stopped us, hands on hips Said, “We heard that! We read your lips!” They called me bad, they called me wicked, Demanded to know if I had liquid. I said, “just five quarts of blood.” “That’s over the limit, you’re busted, Bud!”
Now my poor wife began to cry, She wondered if we’d ever fly. A grim-faced man came up and said, “We have to check. Remove your head.”
I yelled that my head was not removable. They said they’d let it go if that was provable. My wife said, “This has gone too far, “Forget the flight, let’s get the car.”
We got our stuff, and drove back home, Said, “this looks good, no need to roam!” Home, sweet home, and you know, what’s more, No one felt us up on the way to the door.
They say their motives have the utmost purity, And the whole routine is for our security, But as long as I am free to choose, Well, someone tell United the news: That’s the last time I’ll sing the T S A blues!
|