the word free on an old snow-covered chevy malibu meatmachine: cog in a steak

Miss B.


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performers: Geoff Chirgwin, everything (vocals, guitars, bass guitar, drums, synthesizer sequencing)
duration: 5 min 12 sec
pages of score: 39
recorded at: Charlie's Cabin Studios, Mount Desert Island, Maine
mixed at: Hancock Place Studios, Cambridge, Massachusetts
Broad Marsh River Studios, Wareham, Massachuset
mastered at: Broad Marsh River Studios, Wareham, Massachusetts
lyric:
Miss B.'s personal hygiene
wasn't quite up to par
to the standards of the
Western medical establishment

Miss B. lived just upstairs from me,
you know she never was a wife
She hadn't really cared too much for
men for a long time now, any way

Her old man would only let her move out
if she got herself knocked up
so, you know that's exactly what she did

At just sixteen
three or four times was all it took
and none of them were as
painful as it had been When
Uncle Joe had gotten her
alone a few years earlier

She had to put the kid up for adoption
soon after it was born
'cause she didn't have the money to
feed and clothe the kid, any way

Well, that was many years ago,
the kid's probably dead or
gone to college by now but
it sure got her out of the house

Out on her own she's managed to
support her self over the years
with a whole slew of different jobs

She's now got a job down at the
local state college branch where
she often gets taunted and teased

Mainly it's because of her lifestyle but
she had to keep the job in spite of this;
it gave her somethin' to do
and she needed to pay the rent, any way

She did long for some kind of love
in this wasteland of aluminum siding
and open roads, home-welded gun racks,
four-door cabs and her tired conscience

She longs for some companionship but
she dislikes nearly all people likes this
rural life OK cause she can keep to herself

but I was an exception
she seemed to trust me for some reason
Some times she'd knock at my front door

It was always after she came home from work
I'd usually go outside on our shared porch
to chat with her because the intense smell
was just too much, any way

I don't reckon she bathes much more
than there are weeks on a calendar
From what I gather her sisters have tried to
stage a few of those interventions
over the years

But she wasn't really mentally ill
well no more than the rest of us.
I've been keeping track of her in my diary

I figure I'll be the only one who can say
anything personal about her at her funeral:

'Just the other day
I got a letter regarding sadness,
but it turns out it was misaddressed'
'I don't need comisery
when I can do it on my own;
The feelings of one are easy to suppress'
'I don't have the patience,
so let's just watch TV

'And one day I will become an ancress,
Or I'll be on TV or become Earl's Duchess,
Or win the lottery,
Or voice my desperation,
Or eat like a queen,
if only just for one day.'
All songs written, arranged, produced, mixed, and mastered by Geoff Chirgwin All material (C) and (P) 2002 Geoff Chirgwin.  All for-profit rights reserved.
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