Without reason and without conviction, he walked into the garage and decided that Bob Dylan may not be as good of a songwriter as Bernie Taupin.
Digging deep, mentally flipping through the years and songs, he recounted that he had not once but five times (that he could recall) lost his voice screaming the words to Levon. That was three more times than he had lost his voice to Tonight I’ll be Staying Here With You and one of those times, he was sure that hash played a big role. Hash and bug spray.
As he got to the end of the argument that he instigated, from across the fence – the drunken neighbor’s radio played Walk on the Wild Side which immediately brought Lou Reed’s songwriting ability to mind which in turn called up David Bowie’s cover of Waiting for my Man.
The neighbor – passed out, teeth rotting with fruit flies hovering and circling above his head – feeding off the alcohol exiting – made him recall Shane McGowan and Fairy Tale of New York which always reminded him of Tom Waits for one reason or another.
As he continuously devolves, this cycle never ends … But it always begins with Bob Dylan.