A Melanoma Monday

Just having one of those days when I’d like to kick melanoma to the curb, convert The Hotel Melanoma to a maximum security psychiatric lockup facility for all of the Washington politicos who’d rather lie to the electorate to stay in office forever than actually lead and solve the nation’s problems, and go enjoy a round of incompetent three-putt golf without worrying about UV ray exposure. None of that is going to happen, but at least I can sing a little ditty to the Black Beast, to the tune of The Cars’ “You Might Think”…




You might think I'm crazy
To blog my songs ‘bout you
Maybe you think I'm plucky
To have some ‘sing’ to do
But I think that you're wild
And inside me is sun’s child
You might think I’m foolish
Or maybe I’m just blue
You might think I'm crazy
But all I want is through

You might think it's hysterical
But I’ll know when you're beat
You think you're in my boonies
And everything's so deep
But I think that you're mild
When docs flash that fragile smile
You might think it's ghoulish
What you put me through
You might think I'm lazy
But all I want is through

And it's so hard to take
There's no escape without skin scrape
You kept it going ‘til my sun fell down
You kept it going

You might think it's hilarious
The way I run you down
But somewhere sometime
When you're spurious
I'll steal black’s old crown
And I think that you're wild
And so uniquely guiled
You might think it's foolish
These fancy cures for you
You might think I'm crazy
But all I want is through