Leaving Home and Exploring the World

I was the middle child, but I was the last one to leave the nest.  One day I was smoking some hash oil and I spilled it on my draft card, so I decided to smoke it because that stuff was expensive.  Hey the draft card was already ruined, so why should I waste this concentrated cannabis extract.  I didn’t need the draft card any more, as the Vietnam war ended on April 30, 1975.  My dad smelled something burning coming from my room, so he banged on the door to my door and told me to let him in, as I had it locked.  He said that there was no need to lock any doors in his house.

I had just taken a big hit on my pipe and I was still coughing out smoke, so I told my dad to be cool for a minute while I opened up a window.  When he came in, he me asked me if I was smoking drugs and I denied it, but he knew better and he told me to get out.  It was time for me to be on my own, as my parents were cramping my style.  I rented a room in a boarding house and it was a nasty place to live in as it was up on the second floor and I had to share a bathroom with five other tenants.  My younger brother was living on the front porch of his girlfriend’s house and every night he would sneak up to her room to sleep with her, but she made him leave before the morning rolled around.  He was tired of this and he suggested that we get a place together.

We rented out a basement apartment that had an open concept, as the only place with any privacy was in the bathroom. We had to walk two blocks to do our laundry, but all of our friends would come around to party and that was cool, well at least for a while.  One night I brought a girl over to my apartment when my brother was out with his girl.  We were getting intimate when a bunch of my friends knocked on the door and I just ignored them, because I was getting busy with the girl.  They were persistent and they came around to the side window and I told Jenny to be quiet, so they would go away.  Eventually that worked and Jenny and I got back to the business at hand.

Spent time feelin’ inferior standing’ in front of my mirror
Combed my hair in a thousand ways, but I came out lookin’ just the same
Daddy said, son, you better see the world
I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave
But remember one thing, don’t lose your head to a woman that’ll spend your bread
So I got out

Paris was a place you could hide away, if you felt you didn’t fit in
French police wouldn’t give me no peace, they claimed I was a nasty person
Down along the left bank, minding my own
Was knocked down by a human stampede
Got arrested for inciting a peaceful riot, when all I wanted was a cup of tea
I was accused

I moved on
Down in Rome I wasn’t getting enough
Of the things that keep a young man alive
My body stunk, but I kept my funk at a time when I was right out of luck
Getting desperate, indeed I was looking like a tourist attraction
Oh, my dear, I better get out of here for the vatican don’t give no sanction
I wasn’t ready for that, no, no

I moved right out east, yeah
On the peking ferry I was feeling merry, sailing on my way back here
I fell in love with a slant-eyed lady by the light of an eastern moon
Shanghai lil never used the pill, she claimed that it just ain’t natural
She took me up on deck and bit my neck
Oh, people, I was glad I found her
Oh, yeah, I was glad I found here

I firmly believed that I didn’t need anyone but me
I sincerely thought I was so complete
Look how wrong you can be
The women I’ve known I wouldn’t let tie my shoe
They wouldn’t give you the time of day
But the slant-eyed lady knocked me off my feet
God, I was glad I found her

And if they had the words I could tell to you
To help you on your way down the road
I couldn’t quote you no dickens, shelley or keats
‘Cause it’s all been said before
Make the best out of the bad, just laugh it off
You didn’t have to come here anyway, so remember

Every picture tells a story don’t it?
Every picture tells a story don’t it?
Every picture tells a story don’t it?
Every picture tells a story don’t it?
Every picture tells a story don’t it?
Every picture tells a story don’t it?

Written for Teresa Grabs Music Monday where today she asks us to create a story from a song title and I went with Rod Stewart.

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