Garden Party, 1965 (a ricky nelson sort of tune)

 

Remember the sixties
Rented Marquis tent
And crystal wear
And waiting staff.
Please no blacks.
We are not avant gard
Or Liberal
We just want a big blowout that
Would do Mamma
And Daddy proud.
But then, they are gone.
And the sixties almost gone
With them.

A key was turned when JFK
GOT SHOT taking a drive
With his pretty wife in the back seat.
Soon wearing lots of his blood
On her pink outfit.
Holding his big head
And the life oozing out.
The life that had
Sustained PT109.
Just as Jimmy Dean had sung it.
Had looked down the snout 
Of Kruschev warships
Calling the bluff while the
Whole world watched and admired.
The guts of the rich Catholic
From Cape Cod and family football.

That was our Boy
Our rosy time of Camelot.
With lessening impressions of 
The muck of Guadalcanal
The detainment of Jews
In Hitler’s hostels of renown.
Or Bay of Pigs fiasco.

Then came LBJ

And stubborn resolve

A big ranch

And earlobes to match.