Saturday, September 22, 2007

I Lost My Camera At The Lakeside Lounge

Tandy was playing at 11 PM --
An eight-song set that really rocked the place.
I took some pictures with my Powershot.
I used the flash so I could catch Mike’s face.

I put the camera in my shoulderbag,
Said hi to Mike and then hi to Nicole, an’
When I went back to get my bag I found
My little Powershot had just been stolen.


I asked the waitress if she saw it on the floor.
She had an earring like a lavaliere.
She said, “Call back tomorrow after four.
Don’t get your hopes up, though. Another beer?”

I asked the bartender if it had been turned in.
He said “This bar don’t have no lost and found.
What people lose here they must find within.”
I said, “That’s great, Confucius –- one more round.”


Chief Sitting Bull knew Annie Oakley well --
He called her Little Sure Shot,
She called him Little John.
Not half a minute past their last farewell,
The Chief cried, “Oh, my Little Sure Shot’s gone!”

Oh, my little sure shot’s gone!
Somebody stole it --
Some little scrounge --
I lost my camera at the Lakeside Lounge.


You never say a thing is mine for now –-
You always say it’s mine forevermore.
So says the autumn leaf about the bough;
So says the gun about the .44.

Sometimes you never get to say goodbye.
Sometimes they leave you for a scalawag.
Sometimes they vanish in the dead of night.
Sometimes they’re stolen from your shoulderbag.


I’ve had that camera five or six years now --
I took a lot of sunsets,
I never took a dawn.
I used to think it was the cat’s miaow,
But now, my little sure shot’s gone.

Oh, my little sure shot’s gone!
Somebody stole it --
Some little scrounge --
I lost my camera at the Lakeside Lounge.

9/22/07 Matthew Wells

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