Speak Clearly

Speak Clearly

 

Sundays, thinking you should eat more fish than you do.

Me think conversations sometimes feel just like they used to.

Mondays, when you dress, it’s a nice way to wake.

Don’t open your mail; wash your hands a lot, OK?

You think that logic’s a little fuzzy;

me think if I could touch you, baby, what a wonderful world it would be.

 

So, if I get your number right on the first try

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

If I get your number right, and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

 

Tuesday’s child’s a devil in a smokestack, grinning.

He don’t kill you — it ain’t luck, he’s just beginning.

Every day you live is a day when you grow stronger;

but every day you live, you learn, is a day when he might hurt you.

 

Wednesdays, I’d rest. Wednesdays I had off.

Now, Wednesdays, I work harder than ever since the devil won the toss.

Wednesdays, I press court since the devil won the toss.

 

So, if I get your number right and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

If I get your number right, and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

 

Thursdays run red. The oceans fill with blood.

God gave man missiles, and they flew, and it was good.

You want to see freedom, try a mixed neighborhood on Friday.

You want to see slaves, try six o’clock on any American highway.

The engineers have four wheels and the cotton fields just turned to SUVs;

they’re littered with spreadsheets, littered with memos,

and they’re littered with gold teeth.

 

So, if I get your number right and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

beep beep beep beep beep beep

If I get your number right, and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

 

“Saturday,” says NORAD, “we all pay our dues.”

Matthew Broderick’s in the bombardier’s seat; he don’t wear no shoes.

We’re all eating Whoppers. WOPRs ain’t food.

Me, I’m in the cockpit with the tombstone blues;

thinking, man, if I could touch you, what a wonderful world;

if I could taste you, paste you, waste you, make you, face you, baste you, erase you, erase you,

what a wonderful world.

 

If I get your number right and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

beep beep beep beep

If I get your number right, and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly

I’ll speak clearly

If I get your number right, and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly 

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

If I get your number right, and it’s still the first try

I’ll speak clearly at the beep

 

(Life Underwater Music, 2002)

James O'Brien