Spitball Army

utilitarianism: n. The belief that the value of a thing or an action is
determined by its utility.

You Turn Me On, I’m A Radio

If you’re driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who’s bound to love you

Oh honey you turn me on
I’m a radio
I’m a country station
I’m a little bit corny
I’m a wildwood flower
Waving for you
Broadcasting tower
Waving for you

And I’m sending you out
This signal here
I hope you can pick it up
Loud and clear
I know you don’t like weak women
You get bored so quick
And you don’t like strong women
‘Cause they’re hip to your tricks

It’s been dirty for dirty
Down the line
But you know
I come when you whistle
When you’re loving and kind

But if you’ve got too many doubts
If there’s no good reception for me
Then tune me out, ’cause honey
Who needs the static
It hurts the head
And you wind up cracking
And the day goes dismal

From “Breakfast Barney”
To the sign-off prayer
What a sorry face you get to wear
I’m going to tell you again now
If you’re still listening there

If you’re driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who’s bound to love you

If you’re lying on the beach
With the transistor going
Kick off the sandflies honey
The love’s still flowing
If your head says forget it
But your heart’s still smoking
Call me at the station
The lines are open

– song circa 1972, by Joni Mitchell

You Burn Me Up, I’m A Cigarette

You burn me up I’m a cigarette
You hold my hand I begin to sweat
You make me nervous
Ooh I’m nervous
It must be real bad karma
For this to be my dharma
With you

You burn me up I’m a cigarette
Life with you is a loser’s bet
You make me crazy
Ooh I’m going crazy
Your therapeutic antics
Well they really make me frantic
With you

Strategic interaction irreducible fraction
Terminal inaction and a bitter hostile faction
I’m getting anxious
I’m franxious
Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases
We

You burn me up I’m a cigarette
Demanding my attention which you’re not gonna get
What did the sage mean?
What had the sage seen?
Musical elation is my only consolation
Oh yeah

You burn me up I’m about to ignite
When you tell me you love me I give up this fight
I’m feeling put down my feelings shut down
I want rejuvenation from male emancipation

Strategic interaction terminal inaction
A bitter hostile faction irreducible fraction
Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases
We

– song circa 1979, by Robert Fripp and Daryl Hall