Hey, you, what's new? I hope you've all been fine and well. No upsets? No disasters? No tornadoes, floods, unexpected sinkholes, avalanches, mudslides? I hope not, I really do. So, anyway, now it's time for more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, goof around with the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.
This week's song, chosen at random from my vast Babelfishing files, is Wilson Pickett's classic song "Mustang Sally" (listen to the song here -- and admit it, you sing along with the "Ride, Sally, Ride" refrain, don't you?). Enjoy.
Crying Eyes Research
Mustang Sally, I think the best.
But the Lord cannot afford myself.
Some of the few things.
I'm in my house.
I said, Hear it!
If you want to ride around Sally
(Psalm Sally rye dollars),
Bill. You must ask him.
One morning, yet.
Wow. Crying Eyes Research,
I said, It looked like!
And buy a new typical horse field.
But now, women,
do not give up.
This mass tartar Sally, now, baby.
Oh, for god's sake!
I think the best that you can search for field horses.
I do not! Oh, for god's sake!
Listening to it, it will run through the city.
Sound of wailing!
So feet up on the floor, was the United States,
So, what can I say?
However, the "milk" can.
After all these years, some walking
if you want to run around.