Song of the Month (MAY 2025) - "Mister, Won't You Please Help My Pony?" by Ween
When I selected this absurdly ridiculous (but musically genius) Ween song for this month, my motivation involved finding a ditty that fully demonstrates why weird music might be the most powerful healing force of melodic fuckery. In addition to the strange lyrics from this classic tune from 1994, the vocal arrangements provide a hazy landscape that also conjures a folky-Beatles-psychedelic type of listening experience that makes me as joyous today as it did when I was a teenager masturbating to the album cover. I was going to do a quick Google search to see if there is any metaphorical symbolism within the content of this song, but I decided that I'd rather just keep it as vague as possible, since that is why I always connected so much to the song and to Ween's catalog in general. So just sit back, relax and enjoy the alternative soundscapes of one of the best bands to ever add their eccentricity and musical wizardry to the greater artistic ether. I also handled this month's Spotify playlist the same way I write the stream-of-consciousness poetry, as I simply let me mind direct me to the next song without giving it much thought. "Mister, would you please help my pony? He's over there lookin' at me He can't talk because he's a pony I think it's his lung" Ween - "Mister, Would You Please Help My Pony?" (1994)
"Why Do So Many Indie Bands Write Songs About Phantom Limbs?"
by Raymond Giuffrida (5-1-25)
Keep it real enough to bite
Real enough for flight
Real enough to rhyme
Real enough for the blind
When the hesitation stutters
Like a true stream of consciousness
Thoughts uncork your own
To own the greater source
Greedy like a pack of wolves
Lungs to breathe the last of us
Funeral-home lobotomies
Tip-toe to admit defeat
Political prostitution
Cyclical transparency
Survival of the fittest notion
Births the most pretentious potion
Ten minutes to relive the truth
Sketched within the comedy
Listening to aliens breed
To educate the blood to seep
Escape defined as victory
Life, death and security
Taxed the siren's urgency
To simulate the conversation
Keep it real enough to feast
Real enough to heat
Real enough to bathe
Real enough to beat
"Mister, Would You Please Help My Pony?" by Ween (1994)
Mister, would you please help my pony?
He's over there behind the tree
He's down in the dirt, would ya help him?
I think it's his lung
Mister would you please help my pony?
He's chewin' bark and not the leaves
He's cryin' like a baby, would you help him?
I think it's his lung
Mister, would you please help my pony?
He's down and he ain't gettin' up
He coughed up snot in the driveway
And I think his lung's fucked up
Pony, Pony, Pony
Mister, would you please help my pony?
I think it's his lung
Mister, would you please help my pony?
He's over there lookin' at me
He can't talk because he's a pony
I think it's his lung
Mister, would you please help my pony?
He's over there behind the tree
He's down in the dirt, would ya help him?
I think it's his lung