Hey, Pig.
“You know…if the ol’ Pig was as pretty as that boy right there, there’d be no safe distance! That face and my rap? My behavior would scandalize th’ gentry! Chamber o’ Commerce’d have to do somethin’! Maybe put out an official statement, I dunno.”
You’re a handsome man, Pig.
“Pull th’ other one! It plays Jingle Bells!”
Stop that.
“The ol’ Pig knows what he’s workin’ with! My daddy used t’ say: Piglet, y’ got a face like Mussolini takin’ a shit! And he was right! Coulda said it a little nicer, but right!”
Piglet?
“I was little when he said that t’ me!”
Well, he was wrong. I think you’re beautiful, buddy.
“Hold up there now, Yojimbo! The ol’ Pig might live in San Francisco, but not that part o’ San Francisco!”
Oh, knock it off. Take a compliment.
“You’re right. I’m workin’ on that very ability! Should be good at it by, oh, ’bout 1980 or so.”
You just need a little more time.
“Thass all any of us needs! Pretty soon, we all gonna be as good as we can get ourselves!”
You said it.
Oh Pig. If only you were here with me, I would let you see these three things, once more: 1) box-back knitties; 2) sweet and noble thighs,: and 3) a bo’-hawg’s eye (working undercover, of course.) The world is full of Boberts. Only one Pig.
Hmm – name another guitarist who plays like Weir. I get what you mean about “Boberts,” if by that we mean his appearance and his presentation-of-self-to-nubiles; if you’re talking about the musician, though, I strenuously disagree.
I remember that ‘cokes for the band intro’ i think before an other one in 68 but. Lord, there is a lot pre/intersong banter to keep it straight.
Seagram’s 100 Pipers
Whiskey Nobles
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEcxpfiVGks