for audio sample click here
She taught the American Novel In the state university, She lived for four long years in the grad student hovels Writing her poetry. She drank 'til she cried 'til she hurt inside And she hated everything she saw, Out in the sticks with the small town hicks Far too far from the bright lights of Arkansas. She named her cat Eudora, She lived on coffee grounds, She dressed like Diane Keaton in a felt fedora When anyone came to town. And I fell for every word she said-- She pointed and I laughed out loud At places I knew and the people too, Too young too proud, my head too high in the clouds. Well here's to you Larissa Wherever you're about, I finally took my eyes off you I finally found you out; Well here's to you Larissa Wherever you may teach, A song you'll never hear From a place you'll never reach. She talked about William Faulkner And the gang down at LSU, She met Jimmy Carter at a potluck supper She danced with the B-52s; She did it all she knew it all And she never let up once, Far from her books from her movies and art, From the havens and haunts of the Little Rock debutantes. She got social charm from her mother Just this side of the law, She got a rag-top Caddy from her millionaire daddy And she drove down to Mardi Gras; And I remember the scene like yesterday And her words still cut like a knife, Well baby I'll be out in the real world, You'll be somebody's wife and staying in school for life. Well here's to you Larissa Wherever you're about, I finally took my eyes off you I finally found you out; Well here's to you Larissa Wherever you may teach, A song you'll never hear From a place you'll never reach.
back to Blues for the Flying Dutchman
Copyright © Thomas Anderson, Angry Young Grad Student Music