fd70ea45   
   I had a similar casette tape I recorded off the radio.   
   The words to the original song on that broadcast are at the bottom of this   
   post, and I believe those words are by Kathleen Turner. But first I will share   
   some new tweaks I've written. I found it pretty interesting that there were   
   zero women in the wax    
   museum, so took it as my mission to even the playing field a bit. And I   
   altered a few other minor things as well:   
   --- Jenny Sapora   
      
   The Wax Museum   
   (New version with women included!)   
      
   A year out of college, she finally found work    
   At the Real-as-Life Wax Museum.   
   She’d point to the figures of history’s greats   
   And she’d tell all who came to see ’em   
   	Noon to nine in the dim museum.   
      
   Here’s Ceaser, here’s Earhart, here’s Franklin and Locke,   
   Churchill, Elizabeth, Austen, and Bach,   
   Here’s Shakespeare who said “The world is a stage.”   
   Here are knights from the Gothic Age.   
      
   They stood as if speaking, or sat looking wise    
   In their velvets, and linens, and laces.   
   She wished for a sign from their porcelein eyes   
   Or a word from their waxy faces.   
   	As she recited her phrases.   
      
   Here’s Newton, deVinci, O’Keeffe and Curie,   
   Tubman, who worked so that slaves could go free.   
   Here’s Darwin, in fashions he wore while alive.   
   He said “The fit survive.”   
      
   	Ghosts of Antiquity, this is no life for me.   
   	How can I make my own history?   
      
   At closing she hung up her renaissance frock   
   And went out where the night was clear   
   And passing a pub as she rounded the block,   
   She said, “I could use a beer.   
   	I will see if there’s life in here.”   
      
   The bartender smiled as he filled up her glass.   
   She remembered his smile from zoology class.   
   They had shared observations in earlier days,   
   So they talked while he wiped the trays.   
      
   She told him,  “I work with the glorious dead,   
   Though I don’t mean to do it forever.   
   I know they were smart. I quote them by heart,   
   But as days come and go, they never   
   	Say a single new thing that is clever.”   
      
   Here’s Lincoln, here’s Ross, MLK and Monroe,   
   Standing just as they stood a 12-month ago.   
   I think I would rather pour scotch on the rocks   
   For a fellow who breathes and talks.   
      
   Said he, “It is clear, folks are different in here.   
   Not so quiet and not so cold.   
   Still the wisest of guys have the glassiest eyes   
   And the knights are just bold.   
   	And their lines are just as old.”   
      
   Here’s your Harvey Wallbanger, your Vodka & lime.   
   Your 7 & 7 for the seventeenth time.   
   Jack Daniels, two lagers, two apricot flips--   
   I would quit, but I get good tips.   
      
   	Seekers of Revelry, it’s not enough for me   
   	I crave some sober society.   
      
   Said she, “It is late.”   Said the boy, “If you’ll wait   
   Till I’m through with these glasses and trays   
   We could go for a walk, continue our talk,   
   Maybe find some better ways   
   	To put light into our days.”   
      
   Now when they go walking out under the stars   
   They don’t quote the masters, they don’t hit the bars.   
   Though she once mentioned Marx, who said, “Workers, unite.”   
   And they found that the man was right.   
      
   	Spirits of Synchrony, Smile on them, smile on me.   
   	Long Live all lovers of liberty.   
      
      
   The Wax Museum   
   (Original version with only men in the wax museum!)   
      
   A year out of college, she finally found work    
   At the Real-as-Life wax museum.   
   She’d point to the figures of history’s greats   
   And she’d tell all who came to see ’em   
   	Noon to nine in the dim museum.   
      
   Here’s Ceser, here’s Luther, here’s Franklin and Locke,   
   Churchill, Columbus, the death mask of Bach,   
   Here’s Shakespeare who said "The world is a stage."   
   Here are knights from the Gothic Age.   
      
   They stood as if speaking, or sat looking wise    
   In their velvets, and linens, and laces.   
   She wished for a sign from their porcelein eyes   
   Or a word from their waxy faces.   
   	As she recited her phrases.   
      
   Here’s Newton, deVinci, DesCartes and de Gaulle,   
   Virgil, who taught us that love conquers all   
   Here’s Darwin, in fashions he wore while alive.   
   He said "The fit survive."   
      
   	Ghosts of Antiquity, this is no life for me.   
   How can I make my own history?   
      
   At closing she hung up her renaissance frock   
   And went out where the night was clear   
   And passing a pub as she rounded the block,   
   She said, "I could use a beer.   
   	I will see if there’s life in here."   
      
   The bartender smiled as he filled up her glass.   
   She remembered his smile from zoology class.   
   They had shared observations in earlier days,   
   So they talked while he wiped the trays.   
      
   She told him,  "I work with the glorious dead,   
   Though I don’t mean to do it forever.   
   I know they were smart. I quote them by heart,   
   But as days come and go, they never   
   	Say a single new thing that is clever."   
      
   Here’s Lenin, here’s Lincoln, here’s Ross and Monroe,   
   Standing just as they stood a 12-month ago.   
   I think I would rather pour scotch on the rocks   
   For a fellow who breathes and talks.   
      
   Said he, "It is clear, folks are different in here.   
   Not so quiet and not so cold.   
   Still the wisest of guys have the glassiest eyes   
   And the knights are just bold.   
   	And their lines are just as old.   
      
   Here’s your Harvey Wallbanger, your Vodka & lime.   
   Your 7 & 7 for the seventeenth time.   
   Jack Daniels, two lagers, two apricot flips--   
   I would quit, but I get good tips.   
      
   	That’s how it could come to be, that all who   
   		thirst should come to me.   
   	I crave some sober society.   
      
   Said she, "It is late."   Said the boy, "If you’ll wait   
   Till I’m through with these glasses ad trays   
   We could go for a walk, continue our talk,   
   Maybe find some better ways   
   	To put light into our days."   
      
   Now when they go walking out under the stars   
   They don’t quote the masters, they don’t hit the bars.   
   Though she once mentioned Marx, who said, "Workers, unite."   
   And she found that the man was right.   
      
   	Spirits of History, Smile on them, smile on me.   
   	God bless all lovers of liberty.   
      
      
   On Friday, July 23, 2010 at 6:51:11 PM UTC-7, Joseph Lockett wrote:   
   > I'm looking for the artist who performed a song my wife has on an old   
   > (redubbed) cassette tape.  It was evidently recorded from a late 80's   
   > episode of Garrison Keillor's *Prairie Home Companion*, and features a   
   > singer-songwriter who also performs (a cappella) "I Built a Better   
   > Model Than the One at Data General" and (with acoustic guitar) the   
   > "Sodium Chloride" romance song.   
   >    
   > The song in question, though, is about a young woman who works in a   
   > wax museum and a young man who works in a bar: the chorus changes each   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)