“Fly Toward the Light,” which I completed in 2004 and recorded in 2007, is a complete break from my earlier work, which shared more of the predilections of the Parnassians. In “Fly” I contrast the image of the underpaid mojados, Manuel and Nacho, with the privileged world of the chiropractor Jim, who of course represents my mother or a snake.


Fly Toward the Light
(© Jerry Crabmeat Thompson, 2004)

They were born to be chickens but they fought like the dickens
Not to end up finger lickin good
Threw their lots together like birds of feather
Fair weather and foul they stood
Doomed Darwinian pawns of planned over-consumption
Lumped together as breasts, wings and thighs
They waved their little peckers in the face of convention
Little buddy just like you and I.
2) Manuel was driving the truck that day
Su primo Nacho was riding shotgun
Never made so much money back in Chichicastenango
And tonight they were gonna have fun
When they rounded a corner,
Didn’t hear a little thump
As a cage fell off on the street
And two dazed chickens sat blinkin in the sun
With a chance to be more than just meat
Chorus: Fly toward the light
Even if your chubby wings don’t work too well
Fly toward the light
Cuz indecision is hell

3) Then a kind-hearted woman from New York City
Never seen a live chicken before
She said “Oh Jimmy, can we take them home?”
Jimmy patted her leg and said “Sure.”
Named em Paul and Rosita and they built a little pen
Where the chickens could cluck and run around
And sometimes they’d watch Pee Wee Herman cartoons,
Though the chickens couldn’t figure em out


SAD VERSE ( ADD oooos) (desc.) Jimmy was down a the chiropractic shop
And his gal was workin on her truck
When a Black Labrador with his huge appetite
Ended those chickens luck
Though they were finally devoured still their personal power
Though transitory was real (cresc.)
They never got old and they never got fried
And the dog got a damned nice meal

Chorus (con brio)