Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack
I went out for a ride and I never went back
Like a river that don't know where it's flowing
I took a wrong turn and I just kept going
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Lay down your money and you play your part
Everybody's got a h-h-hungry heart
Oh
I met her in a Kingstown bar
We fell in love, I knew it had to end
We took what we had and we ripped it apart
Now here I am down in Kingstown again
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Lay down your money and you play your part
Everybody's got a h-h-hungry heart
La-la-la-la-la-la, oh yeah
La-la-la-la-la-la
Everybody needs a place to rest
Everybody wants to have a home
Don't make no difference what nobody says
Ain't nobody like to be alone
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Lay down your money and you play your part
Everybody's got a h-h-hungry heart
Oh yeah
(Everybody's got a hungry heart)
(Lay down your money and you play your part)
Oh yeah
(Everybody's got a hungry heart)
La-la-la-la-la-la
Ooh yeah
La-la-la-la-la-la
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Bruce Springsteen
Hungry Heart lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
d.: Thanks for filling in for The Boss, today, Ralph. But…
C.: Hey, d.c., I liked your opening of my story, but what if I start the story in the middle and then go back to the beginning?
d.: It’s always good to have an alternative beginning Cal.E., but how do you get to the end?
C.: I’ll show you, instead of telling you.
d.: Okay, shoot.
C.: “Hi, everyone. I’m here on this strange planet sitting on top of the god of this planet. What was it called? Oh, yes, a refrigerator. I know that it’s the god of this planet because the inhabitants of this planet always put sacrifices in it that they buy at some place called a “grocery store.” The most popular one is some place called “Walmart.” MY dad on this planet says that it’s Hell on earth, but my mom on this planet says that it’s a necessary evil. Fortunately for Dad, a recent outbreak of a dreaded disease has made picking up groceries outside the store popular. All he must do is type in items on my other favorite place to rest, someplace called a “keyboard.” It has a box attached to it, but I don’t pay much attention to that, because I cannot sleep on it. I know this from experience.
My mom and dad on this planet are generous people. They take in stray tiny humans and dogs and even cats and nurse them back to health so that they can go to someplace called “adoption.” I don’t know where that it, but it must be a wonderful place, because the tiny humans, cats and dogs get love and affection, and the people who adopt them get the family they’ve always wanted. Some want human babies, and others want fur babies, so everyone gets what they want. I don’t know exactly where “Adoption” is, but it must be Heaven on earth.
Anyway, I guess that your wondering why such a beautiful, intelligent creature like me hasn’t gone to Adoption yet and why I’m sitting on top of Blanco, the human god. That’s what I call our refrigerator, because it’s white and we live in the state of Texas, where Spanish is spoken regularly.
I’m sitting on Blanco because, when he’s in a good mood, he gives the humans food. Sometimes they offer it up as a burnt offering to Blanco, and sometimes the eat it, if Blanco is in a good mood. If he’s hungry though, the humans offer some of the food back to Blanco. They call these “leftovers.” Most are eaten later, but some stay in Blanco so long that he rejects them, and the humans must throw them away before Blanco gets offended by the smell. He doesn’t like the smell of leftovers that have been left in him for too long, but I like it.
That’s why I’m sitting here, waiting for Mom or Dad to come get what Blanco doesn’t want, because it’s something called “trash day.” I think it’s a high holy day for cats and dogs on this planet, because they all want to get to the wonderful smelling sacks that are put out on the street curb before the evil trash trucks come and take it away. They probably sell it at a profit after they pick it up for free, but I digress.
As I’ve said before, I didn’t come from this planet. I came from a different planet in a different galaxy. I was dazed and confused, wondering the streets of Houston when an evil person called an “animal catcher” caught me and brought me to a bad place called The Kennel. Fortunately for me, one of the nurses at The Kennel could understand me. He’s my best human friend, d.c. scot. He told me not to let anyone know that I spoke English, because the humans may want todo experiment on me and keep me in The Kennel indefinitely to do that. He said to keep quiet and he would find me a better home. His best friends are my mom and dad. When d.c. told them that there was a beautiful, intelligent cat that at The Kennel that needed a home, they decided to let their oldest sone adopt me. Big Red named me Cal.E. for my first name because I’m so intelligent. That’s short for Calculating Einstein. He was a really smart human, I suppose, but not as smart as a cat. Most cats spell their names with a “C,” but Big Red said that, since I’m a different kind of cat, he wanted to spell my last name differently.
D.: I’m sorry to cut you short, Cal.E., but we’re running out of time.
C.: Okay, d.c. tomorrow, I’ll tell our audience about my three human brothers, Big Red, Blue Eyes and Curly and my arch enemy, Buddy Bones, right here on Cal.E.’s Korner.
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