MacJams.com - Song: Tyler O'Toole (remix of One Bad Dude) by Joanna

Tyler O'Toole (remix of One Bad Dude) by Joanna [Email]

Genre: Spoken Word-Poetry

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Description:

I loved Tiler's song "One Bad Dude". It immediately brought up wonderful mind pictures of the old west. Some songs have a narrative quality that is difficult to resist.

For fun, I decided to write the story that the song was playing out in my head. Tiler gave me permission to post my version, so here you go: a new version of "One Bad Dude" that I've retitled "Tyler O'Toole", so no one gets it mixed up with the original. Tiler's original song deserves all the kudos.

Lyrics:

It was 1852, down Tombstone way.
It was hot and cloudless, just another dusty day
I was the marm, in charge of the school
Suddenly I heard, "It's Tyler O'Toole!"

Tyler was a rugged, handsome beast
Stood 6'4", a visual feast
Shoulders so broad he could straddle a county
Too bad his death held such a high bounty

The townspeople scurried into corners and holes
Like a pack of scared gophers or desert moles
I sent the kids home. Parents wanted them near
Tyler's name alone caused that kind of fear.

I stayed behind in the shadows of the school
Wanted to get a look at Tyler O'Toole
I watched him ride in on a stallion black as coal
Saw in his eyes that killing was his goal.

Before he dismounted he scanned the town square
All appeared hidden, like no one was there
But his grey eyes alit with palpable harm
On where I was hidden. "Zat you, school marm?"

I froze, unsure whether to speak or stay mute
I stared from my shadow, hot damn, but he's cute!
Then something compelled my legs to walk
And without my control, I began to talk

"I'm the marm," I said, trying not to show fear.
He slid from his horse and drew himself near
He looked me over, from my head to my thighs
Like a man making love with only his eyes.

"Afternoon, Marm," he said, most politely
He tipped his hat and smiled ever so slightly
"Somewhere we can talk? Name's Tyler O'Toole."
I motioned him toward the now vacant school.

In my mind I saw flashes of rape and of death
I wondered if I would ever take a next breath
But he drew no weapon, made no advance
Just sat on my desk with an embarrassed glance.

"How can I help you?" I asked with false calm
I held out my hand and he kissed my damp palm.
"I need some schoolin'," he said, his voice tight
"Ain't never learned how to read or to write."

I did not laugh, or smile, or act curt.
I heard in his voice all the pain and the hurt.
"I can teach you, Mr. Tyler O'Toole.
It's what I do in this rickety old school."

"Not with the bairns," he admonished shyly
"Don't want none to know. They think of me highly."
I nodded, falling deeply into the grey of his eyes.
I felt like a child, dwarfed by his size.

"I won't say a word. My lips will be sealed."
Then I felt him approach, to his touch I did yield
"Not too sealed," he whispered, his lips touching mine
And the world swam in friction, rhythm, and rhyme.

When I emerged, I was flushed head to toe
The townspeople stared, all wanting to know.
"What happened? What happened in our town's school?"
"Your teacher got taught by Tyler O'Toole."

Hardware:

Whatever Tiler has and my Shure SM58

Software:

GarageBand

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Great story ! &mdash 06/10/05 - 01:36:09 PM

Swanny

Really wonderful Joanna !

[ Reply to This ]

Great story ! &mdash 06/11/05 - 10:09:45 AM