Ewoks Behind You

Now I got a friend, he’ll go into a bar,
and pick up any girl he wants.
Well, not really a friend, but I work on his car,
and he did let me tag along once.
I watched him play his bait, and I got his technique
down to a pretty fine hone.
And just you wait’ll I get into town next week,
I’m gonna see if it works on Joan.

You talk to the ladies like this, is what you do.

I’ve only known you for a little while,
but I feel we’ve made us a connection.
You got such pretty hair and a funny little smile
and a damn good sense of direction.
You know where you been, you know where you are,
and you know where you wanna go.
But for all that knowing and all that going,
there’s still one thing you don’t know.
There’s ewoks behind you.
Don’t turn and look because they don’t like that.
But there’s ewoks behind you.
You know, you oughta look before you sit where a ewok sat.

Uh-huh, ewoks, all right. Wearing purple naugahyde jumpsuits.
Nike shoes.

Yeah, I saw ‘em behind you when you first came in,
they probably follow you everywhere.
That’s the way they do, and anyplace you been,
they likely left some reminders back there.
They’re nasty little boogers, cute and fat and fuzzy,
but they smell like horny old goats.
And give ‘em a little beer and get ‘em a little buzzy,
they can be downright insufferable poets.

Yeah, they like to rhyme words together
and tangle up ambiguities.

So look out now, ‘cause there’s ewoks all ‘round you.
There’s one in the corner smokin’ a big cigar.
They’ll just keep on comin’ now that they found you,
and ain’t gonna stop ‘til they take over this bar.
You know, once a bunch of ewoks gets in a joint,
they wanna show off what’s under their kilts.
And when they all start to singin’ and dancin’ en pointe,
well, you just wanna be somewhere else.

Maybe you better come with me, hon.
I’ll shake those little fuzzballs for you.

First just lemme introduce myself,
I’m a man of stealth and grace.
I know all about goblins and dwarfs and elfs,
and I know a back door outta this place.
We’ll just slip out there, then I’ll mark a secret sign
on the top of the door with my pen.
By the time they figure it out, we’ll be on county road nine,
and headed on up to my den.

Where we can do a little magic thing,
a ewok exorcism.
Helps if you take your clothes off.

So don’t you worry, babe, ain’t no ewoks behind us.
They can’t follow me on these old country lanes.
No, ain’t not a ewok nowhere around us.
Say, did you, uh, ever try anything with those Velcro chains?

Lemme hear you say “Gunda!”
Je parle Ewok, non?

Ewoks Behind You

smitisan

Trussvillle, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

Pome I wrote back a couple years ago, writing some music for it now.

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