Well, hello fellows, my name's Evan
Eleven- Eleven- Seventy Seven
come gather round now, hear my song
i promise not to keep ya too long-
it's just sort of a short autobiographical saga
and it might educate ya, or aggravate ya, or incriminate ya
but i won't give ya no guarantees...

Well, i grew up on the Monterey Bay
and when i got the blues one day
i picked up a blues harp to see if i could hack it
soon everybody's yellin' "stop that racket!"
they plugged their ears, they rolled their eyes, they stuck out their tounges
and i said to myself, "well, if i can piss off that many people in this short a time, then music is the thing for me!"

Then i went to the University
of California at Berkeley
so i could get my college degree
but homework didn't agree with me
so i had to do somethin' else instead
i picked up the guitar lyin' on my bed
i learned some power chords-
i think i learned every Nirvana song in about an hour
maybe it was two hours

Now, if yer s'posed to be workin' and ya wanna kill time
music is the perfect crime
if they say,"hey! stop procrastinatin'"
ya can say, "no man, i'm just creatin'-
i'm writin' songs about girlfriends, current events, world history"- mostly girlfriends
or lack thereof

But i didn't really write too many songs
'til a couple of years had come and gone
and i took Professor Schultz's class-
Ecosystmology- before ya passed
ya had to do a creative project
well, what did i do? what'd ya expect?
i wrote a song
yes, a brand new, original song- i stole the melody from Woody Guthrie and i stole the words from Edward Abbey and presto! a original song- and i said to myself, "well, if writin' songs is this easy, then i should be a rock star." why not?

Now, if ya wanna be a rock star, here's the thing-
ya need somebody to hear ya sing
so i went to all the open mics
to see if there was one i liked
i sung for the hippies at Lothlorien
i sung for the punks at the Stork Club
i sung for the anarchists at Apgar parties
i called myself Little Boy Blue- and nobody laughed when i told 'em that

And one day i met Ani DiFranco
at a rally in San Francisco
i said, "i'm a singer too, ya know
it's nice to meet ya, can i give ya my demo?"
but she shook her head, she said, "no.
do it yerself man, i gotta go"
D.I.Y. or die, that's what they say
it sure seems hard if yer dyin', tho

So i thought that i could use some help
instead of doin' it all myself
and i went and tried to find a band
i met some guys, i shook some hands
and Civil Dysentery needed bass
so i practiced bass all over the place
but they picked some other guy instead of me
but boy, will they be sorry when i'm a big rock star tho- ha!

Then i needed a change of scenery
and i wanted to stick a wrench in the machinery
so i packed my bag for old New York
i figgered i might find some work
singin' in the Village like in the sixties
but these days, there's just cops and yuppies
and i did make a name for myself there- but it wasn't Little Boy Blue, it was John Doe
and as soon as i got outta jail i came straight back to California

So, then i had to try something new
and then i knew just what to do
i called a fiddler named Theo Paige
i figgered it might be all the rage
if i mixed some radical political lyrics
with some jumpin' Irish fiddle licks
and we recorded 'The Day that Bush was Shot in the Head (and Other Love Songs)' and put it out just in time for the election- or selection- or rejection of democracy- however ya wanna look at it