← Now That's What I Call Eclectic
Pass the Raccoon
Complete fiction. It started as a pun on an old sitcom line, "pass the raccoon," which turned into driving past the raccoon, and then into a joke song about Dad in the old pickup with a grudge against squirrels. Only afterward did I realize it's also a song about family trauma getting passed down.
Dad, no! Not again!
Riding with Dad
In the old pickup truck
The man had a grudge
Against the unstruck
Pass the raccoon
We're going on home
Don't swerve the car
Leave the critter alone
He'd aim for the squirrels
Because they steal our nuts
He'd run over possums
For raccoons, lose his stuff
He'd drive over fences
He'd crash through the brush
Mailboxes were nothing
When he feels that rush
Pass the raccoon
We're going on home
Let this one live
Leave it to roam
I don't know what happened
Back in his past
That made my dad hate them
But to kill varmits
He's willing to crash
Pass the raccoon
Let's just go home
Please not again
Give back my phone
They're just woodland creatures
We'd beg and we'd plead
But Dad's eyes would narrow
And onward he'd speed
They'd not see us coming
Or at best, freeze in shock
The tires rolled over
Flat, not a squawk
Pass the raccoon
Let's just go home
Officer, please
He's in his comfort zone
Pass the raccoon
I'll drive on home
I'll come post bail
And take you back home
Driving with Dad
In the old pickup truck
I see the raccoon
Feel an urge in my gut
I try to stop it
As we drive by, succeed
Then I see dad's hand reach
From the passenger seat
Pass the raccoon
We're just going home
It's too late for that one
We'll stay on the road
Pass the raccoon
One got away
Relief, then I see
The deer now his prey