It was a day much like any other day
The day God invented Bluegrass
Except that He was in a bit of a mood
Having listened to so much Jazz.

Those mountain boys are gonna need music, too!
He proclaimed with a little sigh
When He gets like this there isn't much I can do
When He says Jump! I say How high?

He's been turning to me ever since that day
That He wrote 'Ave Maria'
I was the one who gave it to Shubert
Now the World sings its hosannah.

We both know He can't turn to Gabriel
He's just such a jerk anymore
Ever since he tangled with that bad boy Lucifer
All he speaks of is Holy War.

Against such Evil I preach non-resistance
Before such swine I say to cast pearls
I much prefer peace, love, and harmony
To bringing such misery to the world.


That's how I became God's go-to archangel
For His pet musical projects
But this time we had to pick a phenom
From pretty pitiful prospects.

We had this kid down in Mississippi
The one with a cleft in his lip
For him to introduce Bluegrass would require
Surgically removing his hip.

The Alabama guy was never sober
But we just had too much to lose
Better to save him for a style of music
Where the songs were all about booze.

We were stuck with this bore from Kentucky
Logic said that he had to be white
History shows black men create the best music
How to make them all see the light?


I could foresee a dim future for Bluegrass
Practiced largely in the hollers
Would the weed-smokin' festival dudes
Spend enough of their dollars?

Would they be like those Sixties love-in affairs
For the crunchy Birkenstock crowd
Once the hippies got ahold to this music
Would anyone else be allowed?

I saw that we needed a phenomenon
Like the guy with that loose pelvis
But given our target audience I knew
He needn't be quite so outrageous.


About time I invented that bluegrass!
God thundered at me way too loud
As I feverishly rushed to his office
I tripped and fell into a cloud.

I was struck by Divine Inspiration
Climbing out of all that white stuff
If we got a black man on the banjo
That should liven things up enough!

Of course I let God think it His idea
Taking credit is such a bore
Let's get a black man in on this thing! He boomed
That should get them shouting for more.


I called down to the personnel department
And ordered up some of that charisma
Talent plus good looks were a requirement
But, go easy on the rhumba!

They promised a return to the drawing board
They'd have to retool the factory
They assured me the guy they were conceiving
Would be the craze of the new century.


That's when those boys really got down to business
They sure outdid themselves this time
They put Elvis, Hank, and Bill Monroe to shame
You're so good you could be a crime.

With all the charm of a fallen angel
Without having taken the fall
The musical genius of Africa
Behind Black Irish eyes that enthrall.

So when you see me at your musical gigs
Swirling like some Heavenly mass
Kick ass so that you'll exonerate me for
The day God invented Bluegrass.

© 2002 by Michael J. Farrand

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