Want to do a show
That lights up your eyes
Make your ketchup flow
And your elevator rise
Whatever floats your boat
Whatever greases your pan
And if solo guitar is what starts your car
Here comes the guitar man.
I think the world of you
I wish you well
Whatever tightens your screw
Whatever rings your bell
Whatever your taste
What makes you smile a little
And if violin can make you grin
Then here is the fiddle.
Some people want a show that challenges them to think about the world
Some people want sound that bounces around so their long blonde hair gets
curled
Whatever thickens your bisque
Or answers your prayer
Downloads your disc
Loads your software
Whatever pulls your cork
Or ripens your cheese
And if solo piana peels your banana
More piano please.
I hope your needs are met
And your desires fulfilled
Whatever fires your jets
Whatever lifts your kilt
Whatever grinds your beans
Or distills your liquor
And if a dobro break can bake your cake
Well, here's a picker
Some people want a party, with the hubbub, the clamor, and the roar
Some people want the sound of the moths beating gently on the old screen
door
Whatever gives you a thrill,
Whatever makes your light shine,
That is your free will,
It's no business of mine.
Whatever chills your beer,
Whatever fills your cup.
And if a moment of silence puts your heart in the highlands,
Then I'll shut up.
Whatever swabs your decks
Whatever fills your pies
Whatever builds your pecs
Whatever shapes up your thighs
What magnetizes your strip
Whatever bales your hay
And if standup bass puts a smile on your face
Then he will stand and play.
Some people love Puccini, they could listen to his operas night
and day
Some people love hip hop and never stop with the sound
turned up all the way
Whatever tunes your lute
Or upgrades your file
Opens your chute
Or grouts your tile
Whatever presses your suit
Or brews your beer
And if a radio show can make your garden grow
Then that is why we're here.
© Garrison Keillor 2002