The Eighth Day Was the Bad One

Dennis Hopper died on May 29, 2010. Reading a few pieces about his life, I wrote down a fantastic quote of his regarding his extremely brief and tumultuous marriage to Michelle Phillips (of the Mamas and Papas) in 1970: “Seven of those days were pretty good. The eighth day was the bad one.” Fictionalizing such a lousy yet dramatic union, I wrote this one in Round Pond on July 19 the following summer (2011) using a poppy, early Joe Jackson-type melody I had waiting to be used.

 

Looking back through the rosy gauze of nostalgia

I can see the hazy laughter and love

Strip away the veil, bring it all in focus

I’m afraid this is the way it was:

 

Seven of those days were pretty good

The eighth day was the bad one

 

I saved all our pictures, that one roll

We were pre-digital, man, we’re getting old

I’m still playing solitaire, how about you?

Most days I don’t know what to do

 

Thank you for the best week of my life, dear

No need to mention the following day

When everything fell apart in an awful instant

Who knew words held such powerful sway?

 

Seven of those days were pretty good

The eighth day was the bad one

 

I saved all our pictures, that one roll

We were pre-digital, man, we’re getting old

I’m still playing solitaire, how about you?

Most days I don’t know what to do

 

How’s this for an idea:

We go back together in time

To the night of the seventh day

Before the Corona and lime

And we skip over the nastiness

With a memory-killing kiss

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