Eliza's songs

TRAIL ANGEL
sung to the tune of John Prine's Dear Abby

Trail Angel, Trail Angel,
I'm cold and I'm wet.
This request may be bold because
we've never met.
Would you take us home,
Where is your bathtub?
My hair needs a comb
and my face needs a scrub.
Signed, Koala.

Koala, Koala,
I'll take care of you.
No one understands why
but it is what we do.
We drive you around,
we clean and we cook.
All we ask in return:
please sign our logbook.
Signed, Trail Angel.

Trail Angel, Trail Angel,
I need a ride.
No other driver will
pull off to the side
To pick up this hiker and
drive her to the trail.
Will you tell me the truth?
Is it because I smell?
Signed, Koala.

Koala, Koala,
I will pick you up.
You look so forlorn with
your thumb sticking up.
If that's what you need
I will drive you out of town.
But would you mind rolling
the back window down?
Signed, Trail Angel.

Trail Angel, Trail Angel,
I need a hot meal.
All I had today
was a little oatmeal.
I'm a little worried
I'm getting too thin.
My pants are so loose
Two of me could fit in.
Signed, Koala.

Koala, Koala,
We will get you fed.
Would you like pasta
or lasagna instead?
We understand that
you're in a fix.
Take a seat at the table;
dinner's at six.
Signed, Trail Angel.

............................................

WE'RE NOT THE URBANITES
sung to the tune of (We're Not) The Jet Set by George Jones and Tammy Wynette

On a mountain in Stehekin
I fell in love with you.
In a desert in Wrightwood
You said you love me too.
And it was August in Olallie
When I first called you my honeybun.
Stehekin, Washington.
Wrightwood, Cali.
And Olallie, Oregon.

No, we're not the urbanites.
We're itchin' from mosquito bites.
Our champagne and caviar
is river water and a Power Bar.
You won't find the Kennedys
eating truck stop amenities.

No, we're not the urbanites.
We're itchin' from mosquito bites.
But ain't we got love?

No, we're not the city folk.
We're hikers and we're pretty broke.
Our aperitif and chocolate mousse
is dried beans with cous-cous.
And you won't find a hot shower
in a meadow full of purdy flowers.

No, we're not the city folk.
We're hikers and we're pretty broke.
But ain't we got love?