Craven's Got the Glums - A Repost with Audio

https://soundcloud.com/hudsonmoon/a-case-of-the-glums“

I got a case of the glums. It’s enough to make a guy wonder why he was ever put on this spinning ball of crazies in the first place. In the second place I wonder if in the first place He didn’t have a bigger plan for me other than putting me behind this desk in an office full of empty file cabinets, cockroaches and phones that ain’t ringing on account of I ain’t paid the bill quite yet. 

Like maybe on the day He was handing out a baby's future assignments to the angel who’s job it was to look after the new guy on the planet, I ended up with an angel from the bottom of the angel heap. You know, like when they put a certain kid in back of the schoolroom on account of he’s a troublemaker and a bit of a dope and he’s always the one that don’t get called on to clean the chalk board and clap the erasers, or even get to hold the flag during the Pledge of Allegiance on account of the last time they let him do it he dropped the flag and Sister Mary Magan let out a scream and told him that ol’ Abe Lincoln would come crawling out of his grave and choke him in his sleep if he ever so much as looked at another flag again.

"Geez, you’d have thought the stars and stripes were hand-knitted by the big man himself the way people carry on about it. But like I was saying, maybe I got an angel like that. Who, instead of handing me my assignment to grow up and be a hot-shot detective with a babe on each arm and a smoking gun in every pocket, I ended with the guy who’s always dropping the flag, or sometimes wetting his pants every time Sister Mary Megan swished past him with that big oak pointer of hers that didn’t tickle too much when you done something to make the veins in her forehead pop out all red, white and blue all over. 

“Or, maybe I got no angel at all. Maybe on the day I was born they were all out of angels, or my angel was out to lunch, and I got left to fend for myself without no guiding light to point me in the right direction. Wouldn't that be my luck? Me, having the dream, but ain't able to live it yet, 'cause the dream’s still up there in the clouds with all them other dreams that ain't coming true for folks. 

"I look up and watch them clouds everyday, Betty, and you know what I see? I see that angel of mine. The one who never showed up at my door. And you know what he's doing? He's living my dream! Like he's trying it on for size before he decides he wants me to have it. Sometimes I see him up there in his big fluffy fedora, leaping from cloud to cloud in pursuit of fluffy gun-totin’ elephants.

“Other times he’s blowing suds off a big glass of foamy cream ale, smoking a big stogie and puffing out little fluffy bunny rabbits jumping through smoke rings. Ah, don’t give me that look. I see what I see. And it's fluffy illusions every time!

You know, Betty, I’m feeling better already. Let’s go for a walk in the park. I hear it's a fine and cloudy day.”

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