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Collage: "Pretty"

Artist:Gordon Bok  Album:In Concert 

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sung: Lord, lord, lord, ain't it pretty today? With the sky all quilted over like a mattress, soft and gray See every twig and pebble on the islands up the bay And the wind away Hey, hey, hey, pretty today spoken: Hey Pete, you on this one? Yeah, it's me. I been hauling over here under the Blockhouse all morning. Look, is that you in there by the Sears bell? I thought that looked like you. Uh, you've been kind of stationary in there For awhile. Is everything alright? Aw, that's a bummer. I guess you've, uh, changed your filters and bled her Out and checked the aircleaner, like-a-that? Well, good enough, I guess. Look, I think I'll go over by Turtle Head. I've got three strings over there. I get a crack at them, maybe I can catch up with myself this week. So, I'll be right around, if there's anything I've got that you need, you Will let me know, won't ya? Okay, good enough then. I'll be right on this channel, anyway. sung: Poor old boats They're nothing but a flaming construct of the mind Nothing but a pile of man-made notions Steel and plastic, spells and potions They've got nothing to do with the ocean or the wind Nothing to do with the water or the wind Damned old things They're nothing but a flaming construct of the mind Nothing but a flaming fabrication Some damned human machination And we wonder why they won't keep running on their own Wonder why they won't keep


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