The (ahem) music from two houses over started up again last night, shortly after eleven, and continued intermittently until well after I quit reading at one and turned out my light. In honour of the sheer obnoxious volume and lack of musical skill shown by my neighbours, I’ve written my own protest song.
I borrowed the tune from Mr. Neil Young’s “Ohio,” largely because it seems to be the favourite lamb to slaughter over there. You can listen to it here if you need to refresh your memory.
If you want to sing along, which I highly recommend for full effect, try this instrumental version. Also, this dude really knows his way around a guitar.
One-thirty but someone’s drumming,
too hot to close windows now.
This summer I hear them thumping,
those twits from two doors down.
Guess they just don’t get it.
Their fleeting concept of tune
tortures the whole freaking street.
Could they be deaf hippies?
Don’t think they’re improving soon,
simply can’t maintain a beat.
Seems they just don’t get it,
guess they’re incredibly drunk.
Should have shut up long ago.
Could I just hurl something?
Got lots of dog turds to chuck,
Not a big distance to throw.
One-forty that sound keeps coming,
I think I might go insane.
It’s late but those twits keep thumping,
I lie in bed in pain.
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