Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Occupational Shanty

Someone there is whose last name is Cone-Miller, a product of parents who early adopted the hyphenated family surname. Well, I got to thinking, and when I was all done with that, I wrote her whole family a theme song for the profession they invented but have yet to pursue. You may sing this to the tune of any simpleminded sea shanty you may know.
    The Cone-Miller Song

    I’m a miller of cones, a singer of songs,
    A tiller of teetering trees
    I’m a killer of clones, a dinger of dongs,
    A spiller of ballwaxy bees.

    For ‘tis cones that I mill and
    Blood that I spill and
    Places I just will not leave.

    My pulse it don't run when I pick up a gun
    But for dozens of of ladies who grieve,
    I am the killer of sheep and the spiller of sleep
    And a good goddamn miller of cones.
Perhaps this will even inspire the non-cone-millers among you to lay down your arms and pick up your legs.

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