Stuart McLean is playing They Might Be Giants on The Vinyl Cafe:
I’m your only friend
I’m not your only friend
But I’m a little glowing friend
But really I’m not actually your friend
But I am
Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I’m the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
I have a secret to tell
From my electrical well
It’s a simple message and I’m leaving out the whistles and bells
So the room must listen to me
Filibuster vigilantly
My name is blue canary one note spelled l-i-t-e
My story’s infinite
Like the Longines Symphonette it doesn’t rest
There’s a picture opposite me
Of my primitive ancestry
Which stood on rocky shores and kept the beaches shipwreck free
Though I respect that a lot
I’d be fired if that were my job
After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts
Bluebird of friendliness
Like guardian angels its always near
Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I’m the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
(and while you’re at it
Keep the nightlight on inside the
Birdhouse in your soul)
And Maggie-cat is facing me, sitting in front of the monitor, trying to shoot her paw into the bowl of freshly popped popcorn on my lap when I dip my own hand into it. It’s a game for her; the popcorn rattles and she can sort of see a shadow moving through the plastic bowl. (Yes, popcorn; I’ve been up for hours. Again. Besides, corn is a cereal; it’s morning. What’s wrong with that?)