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    "The Sandpiper and the Crocodile"genre: New Country
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    This is a breezy country-sounding song with a strong chorus. Featuring harmonica and fiddle accompaniment.
    MP3.com CD: Decalogue - buy it!buy it!
    CD: Decalogue   Label: CD on Demand

    Story Behind the Song
    This was the first song that I wrote that I ever considered to be worth keeping. It came to me as I was walking alone at 12,000 feet in the Rocky Mountains. I had just hitch-hiked from the East Coast of the USA to Aspen, Colorado and the last lift I had accepted was from a character called David in a Pontiac sports car. He had been discharged from the Marines (for dealing cocaine) and was on his way from Chicago back to his sweetheart in San Diego. He had a photograph of the girl in his wallet. She was blonde and fat and looked like she enjoyed sex.
    One of the first things he asked was whether I had any marijuana. No, I didnt; but a previous lift earlier on that day had been from a Dead-Head who had offered me some LSD. It had seemed churlish not to accept. After all, was I not following in the footsteps of Jack Kerouac, Ken Kesey and Hunter S. Thompson? I told David so and he said thatll do and when I held out the two cardboard squares he took one and popped it into his mouth. The gap between my own pitiful sense of inadequacy and my American literary heroes was yawning. I tore the remainding tab in half, swallowed one half and threw the other out the window. David looked disgusted.
    We passed through Kansas that night - about 600 miles. All around us across that vast plain lightning lit up the sky echoing the lightning flashes in my mind. We had taken another hitcher on board, also an ex-serviceman. They told me that the flashes were from nuclear testing. I think I believed them.
    Although in possession of a $10,000 car, it soon became apparent that David had no money for petrol. Perhaps that was why he was picking up hitch-hikers. I asked him how he intended to travel 3,000 miles without any money and he said he had tools. I presumed, naturally enough, that he was a tradesman and would either sell his tools or use them to obtain work. But no, the tools were for breaking into cars parked in motel car-parks off Interstate 70. Only foreign cars - my friend was a true patriot. I expect I was an accessory to the crime of lifting radio/cassettes, radar detectors and other valuables from the snoozing motel-dwellers cars, but if it had come to it I would have pled inexperience. Perhaps I would have got off with it. I did plead with David not to commit these crimes and as the night wore on he seemed to lose interest. I think we only did about six cars all in all. I started paying for petrol with my travelers cheques.
    We dropped our friend off at Denver and started the ascent into the Rockies. At some point shortly before dawn I took over the driving while David slept curled up on the leather covered front seat in his tee shirt and bermuda shorts. The sunrise was spectacular. When we reached my destination, I poked him, he grunted, I got my stuff out, he said goodbye and drove away. I dont know whether he ever got to San Diego.

    Lyrics
    Oh you were only seventeen when you first hit our town
    With your rucksack on your back and your honey-roast legs so brown
    I took you home and I fell in love with your blue-eyed innocent charm
    Those blue eyes filled with tears when they saw the needle marks in your arm

    So darling I'll respect your innocence if you'll accept my lies
    And I you stay I might get happy, and you just might get wise

    Well you were born one sunny morn in the middle of July
    Your father gave you everything, he didn't want his little girl to cry
    Protected from experience, you never come up against pain
    When the seed was sowed you hit the road, you want to drive yourself insane

    So darling I'll respect your innocence if you'll accept my lies
    And I you stay I might get happy, and you just might get wise

    On my child-bed my mother said why couldn't you've been still-born
    I just can't feed another mouth, with grief I feel so torn
    I learned to rob, I learned to kill, I learned to smother woe
    I got a headful, kid, but I keep it hid, you could help those feelings flow

    So darling I'll respect your innocence if you'll accept my lies
    And I you stay I might get happy, and you just might get wise

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