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Son of Obiturary

George's Second UA Recording

United Artists released two albums by two different caucasian singer-songwriters on the cusp of '71-'72. George Gerdes' "Obituary" was first released in England and unveiled with a performance by George right before a screening of UA's new Frank Zappa feature film, "200 Motels."  The other caucasian singer-songwriter did a stranger thing. He entitled his first album "Tapestry" which had just been used as the title of the biggest selling LP of all time by Carole King. This fellow's "Tapestry" was not as successful but this as well as George's "Obituary" got enough positive critical response and general "buzz" to afford the both of them support from UA for the production and release of second albums. George asked his producer Nik Venet (who had also produced The Beach Boys, Bobby Darin, John Stewart, Dory Previn, among others) if he could get all the musicians who played on Bob Dylan's "Blonde on Blonde" to be his ensemble for the follow-up to "Obituary." 

In the summer of '72, George flew to Nashville where Nik booked
Charlie McCoy, Kenny Buttrey, Henry Strzelecki, and other great Area Code 615 musicians who had indeed worked not only on that great Dylan album but many other fantastic records to boot! In less than one week, George recorded his entire 2nd UA LP, appropriately entitled "Son of Obituary" is hailed to this very day as an album "ahead of its time."  Oh yes, the other artist- the one who nicked off his first album's title from Carole King's mammoth hit, entitled his second album after one of its long narrative songs of American myth: "American Pie."  Ever heard it? The songwriter was and still is Don McLean. "And" as Paul Harvey would say, "That's the REST of the story." 
Here are some lyrics from some of the songs
on Son of Obituary.


I been shufflin' a lonesome old trail.
I'm gonna send a letter to my dog, in the mail.
Hey Packy, I'm comin' back again!

My legs tired, my feet they're a-draggin'
but I ain't a-stoppin' till I see his tail waggin'
Hey Packy! I'm comin' back again.

Well I heard the proverb tell
that a dog is a man's best friend.
Hey, there's no more detainin'
I'm walkin' it's rainin'
Packy's waitin' at the rainbow's end.

The clouds drift n' the world is so wide
that a fella feels lucky with a dog by his side.
Hey Packy! I'm comin' back again!

A two bit mutt ain't worth a dollar
but he'll be glad to see ya n' he'll come when you holler
Hey Packy! I'm comin' back again!

Yes I heard the proverb tell
that a dog is a man's best friend.
There ain't no more detainin'
I'm walkin'  it's rainin'
n' my dog'll be a-waitin', waitin' at the rainbow's end!

Some folks work hard, searchin' for somethin'
they could see so plain in their dog's tail thumpin'
Hey Packy, I'm comin' back again...

Folks wonderin' why they was born
ain't never been a-swimmin' with their dog in the mornin'
Hey Packy, I'm comin' back again.

Hey Packy! I'm comin' home!
I'm gonna scratch yer head n' feed you a bone!
Hey Packy! I'm comin' back again!


Cold Catechism Wednesday,
fall the leaves of Autumn on the ground,
the sky is turning gray.
Wrap your schoolboy shoes in rubber,
I think it's going to rain.
Yes, it's going to rain.

Cold Catechism Wednesday,
down the hall fat Salvador goes by
in bored corduroy,
hear his brand new sandal shoes'
echo rise and fall
and we're all in awe.

Cold Catechism Wednesday,
sing the sisters of Saint Pascal's angels
in the church abode.
Dress up in your Sunday best suit,
you're going to see the Lord.
Yes, you're going to see...



My best friend stabbed my in the back once,
said "Boy, it's good for you to feel
an honest end to this allowance
of saying things just aren't real."

My drunk compadre in the Kettle...
Done hitched my wagon to a star
but if it wasn't for Gene Autry,
I'd have never picked up a guitar.

Well, roll me over once Jehovah,
Honest Injun hit the dirt.
Pray tell when it'll be all over;
The truth hurts.

Just sitting in a cozy corner,
I being you, you being me...
But for the masks and chains that bind us
Lawd knows, the truth id set us free.

Roll me over once Jehovah,
An honest injun hit the dirt.
Pray tell when it'll be all over;
The truth hurts.

Well, if we could just sit and discuss things,
it just might settle up the score.
But you're so shitty and disgusting,
I ain't gonna talk to you no more.

Yeah, roll me over once, Jehovah.
Honest Injun hit the dirt.
Pray tell when it'll be all over;
The truth hurts.


Wise man believing that he knows the way.
The fool pretending that he's lost.
The loser waiting for a brighter day.
The Winner crying at the cost.

A mocker's mocking with a laughing face.
A child is playing with a toy.
The Earth is spinning full of time in space,
A pregnant lady, boy o boy...

The World is waiting for the sunrise
and I don't really know a thing...
Come to me where we can close our eyes,
I've got some pretty songs to sing.

A mother is praying for her dreadful dream,
Her son's still saying it isn't so...
Two sisters fighting in a tearful scene,
The father, silently, he knows.

The Congregation is a-waiting,
Monseignor don't know what to pray...
Come to me where we can just hold hands awhile
Before the time doth pass away.

A pretty girl is passing down the lane.
The sidewalk sparkles underneath.
A simple song is singing so sweet and plain.
My smiling lips don't show my teeth.

Some stranger's thinkin' that he knows a face.
An old lover is playin' it real coy.
The clock is ticking full of time and space.
A bouncing baby, boy oh boy!

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