“This is a song I wrote about a friend of mine. He was a good friend but even better than how good a friend he was, he had a great basement. And he had one of these kind of basements that you could go down into, like in this one kind of mood, like in this really bad mood and then you could walk back up out of that basement in a much better mood. If you’ve ever encountered a basement like that, you’ll understand why I miss it so sorely in my life. So this is a song for Henry and his basement. But mostly his basement.”
-Introduction from a live performance on 12 Aug 2005
Henry was a high school friend back when I had no friends in school.
Our simple minds were glad to bend, just layin’ low and stayin’ cool.
When hungry we would climb the stairs to an avocado Frigidaire.
And I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
A Pioneer receiver and a Graphix bong they called ‘Big Ben.’
A big Jack Daniels mirror and some Visine to disguise our sins.
Pass the pipe and shoot the breeze, passing time with so much stoner’s ease.
And I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
His Gran Torino muscle took us highway drinking, angels near.
We’d do the twelve ounce hustle, not a single ounce of shame or fear.
In all our burnt orange glory, Lynyrd Skynyrd there to tell our story.
And I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
When we closed down the 70’s, it was with no trace of irony.
When we closed down the 70’s, there was just no other place to be.
But hungry, climbing up the stairs, to an avocado Frigidaire.
And I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
I wish I was in Henry’s basement now.
© and ℗ 2003 Marques Bovre