Pickin Neath The Marilyn Monroe Moon Poem by Paul Henry Dallaire

I wrote this song one night when I came home a little drunk to say the least. The original title was (Marilyn Monroe Moon) The television was on and an American war movie was playing and way overdramatizing the story.
for some reason I hated actors that night as I hung around with a few of them where we would take in a bar or two on the Quebec side of Ottawa Ontario Canada.
I think most of them are lazy and full of shit and in real life we put too much emphasis on what they say and especially their friggin politics and so on...Bla bla bla... Oh, did I forget to mention I was recently seperated from my wife and in the middle of a breakdown Mmmm.


Pickin neath the Marilyn Monroe moon

Last night when I scrambled home neath the moonlight
Down the hall through the walls a new born baby cried
The sirens outside make me wish to be sober
For I feel a new song buildin deep in my heart

Marilyn Monroe moon shines bright through my window
I turn off the T.V. and I turn out the light
She knows my love has gone to another
Cry me a river you cool summer rain

Dinosaur people sing about love
Karaoke cowboy got a notch on his gun
How men dance alone to the beat of the drummer
It's a new do si do and it's Saturday night (Hee Haw)

Chorus:
Sing me a song of my beautiful brown eyes
The one that I lost to the Tennessee Waltz
America bleeds for that chuckwagon cowboy
Pickin his guitar neath the Marilyn Monroe moon

Verse:
Goddamn the pushman Lord I've had enough
Script call for actors who lie like rug
Cop killers hijackers make people cry
Like the sound of a train whistle moanin goodbye

So by the light of the moon this song I did write
Cause I've been riding shotgun since the year of fifty five
Outside lookin is the story of my life
Newfoundland screech makes it all feel allright (Strong booze)

Chorus:
Sing me a song of my beautiful brown eyes
The one that I lost to the Tennessee Waltz
America bleeds for that chuckwagon cowboy
Pickin his guitar neath the Marilyn Monroe moon

Original Chorus; 1st 2 lines:

Sing me a song of my silver haired mother
Strawberries for breakfast and ice-cream in June)
America bleeds for that chuckwagon cowboy
Pickin his guitar neath the Marilyn Monroe moon

Words & Music

Paul Henry Dallaire
Paul Henry Pub.
SOCAN