Song parody of
27-17-28
by John W. Adams
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I remember birthdays of all my childhood friends
Every Rock musician and every band they're in
Each and every player on years of Cowboy teams
Every Mav and Ranger, and Longhorn, so it seems
Ask me for a number, a telephone or door
Every date I've ever had and perfume that she wore
I can name celebrities and tell you if they're dead
But I'll be damned I can't recall a thing that you just said
It's not that I don't love you or that I just don't care
There's a lifetime of bullshit rolling 'round up there
Twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
Oh, that's just my locker combination I had in seventh grade
Zeppelin, Beatles albums, I'll list them first to last
Name you every muscle, nerve, and bone a body has
If I had two dimes to give you every time you say
I'd twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
Not that I don't love you or that I just don't care
There's a lifetime of bullshit rolling 'round up there
There's got to be cure for this, please give me one more day
Then we'll twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
I can order beer in tongues that span the entire world
Call the pitch that's coming before the baseball's hurled
Daily Will Shortz puzzles, I do in ballpoint pen
Play that Kevin Bacon game, and never let you win
It's not that I don't love you or that I just don't care
There's a lifetime of bullshit rolling 'round up there
Twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
Oh, that's just my locker combination I had in seventh grade
I remember birthdays of all my childhood friends
Every Rock musician and every band they're in
Each and every player on years of Cowboy teams
Every Mav and Ranger, and Longhorn, so it seems
Ask me for a number, a telephone or door
Every date I've ever had and perfume that she wore
I can name celebrities and tell you if they're dead
But I'll be damned I can't recall a thing that you just said
It's not that I don't love you or that I just don't care
There's a lifetime of bullshit rolling 'round up there
Twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
Oh, that's just my locker combination I had in seventh grade
Zeppelin, Beatles albums, I'll list them first to last
Name you every muscle, nerve, and bone a body has
If I had two dimes to give you every time you say
I'd twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
Not that I don't love you or that I just don't care
There's a lifetime of bullshit rolling 'round up there
There's got to be cure for this, please give me one more day
Then we'll twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
I can order beer in tongues that span the entire world
Call the pitch that's coming before the baseball's hurled
Daily Will Shortz puzzles, I do in ballpoint pen
Play that Kevin Bacon game, and never let you win
It's not that I don't love you or that I just don't care
There's a lifetime of bullshit rolling 'round up there
Twenty-seven, seventeen, turn around two-eight
Oh, that's just my locker combination I had in seventh grade
