A few friends of mine in college played in a band called Frog Pyle.
Early one Sunday morning, one of the band members, Brian, came by my apartment. We woke me up, put a pot of coffee on, and lit a joint. He brought over an acoustic guitar, and talked me into pulling out my four-track tape recorder (that dates me, I know). He’d been working on a song, and wanted me to record it.
It was a great song, Ridin’ the Dog, a song about traveling by Greyhound bus. We sat down to record, and the first take he lay down was excellent. I’ll still blame it on his waking me so early, but I blew the recording, probably the best rendition of Ridin’ the Dog ever (etched in my mind). Brian was pissed, but we tried a second time, and got a decent take of the song.
Unfortunately, years later and I can no longer find the recording. To make sure Ridin’ the Dog isn’t lost entirely, I’m going to do my best to transcribe the lyrics here:
Leave the driving to us/Take a trip on a bus/Learn the day of the land….Take the time out to meet/A bunch of losers like you/See the miles retreat….
Stop in each one horse town/Taste convenience store food/You won’t be able to sleep/So it’s no use being rude/To the man on your left with the uncontrollable cough….Rediscover your faith as you pray to get off….
Dog dog I’m ridin’ the dog the dog dog I’m ridin’ the dog the dog the dog dog ridin’ the dog I’m ridin’ the dog (the chorus was of indeterminate length)
It’s too damn expensive to fly/Somethin’ breaks down/And you hit the ground and you die./There ain’t so such thing as first and coach class/Everyone gets the same…..
Soar back, sweaty ass….Soar back, sweaty ass….Soar back, sweaty ass (the refrain could go on and on)
It’s not much, I know, but it is a memory worth saving.