Greatest Songs Written While Waiting For Your Car At Jiffy Lube, #1

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Greatest Songs Written While Waiting For Your Car At Jiffy Lube, #1


The story on this song is that Robert Pollard was watching television in a Dayton area Jiffy Lube customer lounge while waiting on his car to be serviced. After a commercial break the announcer on the TV station said: "And now we return to The Days Of Our Lives." But instead of hearing The Days Of Our Lives, Bob heard The Best Of Jill Hives. And the rest as they say, is rock and roll history - well, rock and roll genius anyway.

Oh yeah - I also read somewhere that Bob said he wrote The Best Of Jill Hives in less than an hour. Apparently he knows this because the song was completed before Jiffy Lube was finished changing the oil in his car.

Alright! Let's hear it for Jiffy Muse!

But of course Bob is often full of shit. That's why we (i.e. I) love him so. For that reason, and for the dozens upon dozens of over-the-top melodic pieces of brilliance like this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SyYYyybQj0



The Best Of Jill Hives
(Robert Pollard)

Paid up weathered and type-o,
Clad in gladstone watch him go,
Swimming beneath the microscope.
Hello lonely bless the nation.
Mr. Skip to all or none,
Wooden soldiers fall upon,
Try to find what makes her tick,
While their finding out what makes them sick.

I don't know where you find your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.

Been around and left you flat,
Tragically decided that,
Every child of God's a brat,
And she's dying to escape them.
But do we really need to see,
All her punchdrunk history,
And which of it might hold the key
For the exit to her destiny.

I don't know where you find your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
Number one in all our souls,
Trifle in the crystal bowl,
Fill it up with 9 to 5,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.

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