Hit Somebody!

How about song lyrics for another Sunday? This week the prompt is a song “that include the lyrics ‘cold, frozen, frigid or icy’“.

This song is Hit Somebody! (The Hockey Song) written by Warren Zevon and author Mitch Albom (Tuesdays with Morrie). The song was released on Warren’s eleventh studio album, My Ride’s Here (2002) and David Letterman gets credit for background vocals. It’s about hockey which you probably guessed from the title. It’s also a very good song which, because it’s a Warren Zevon song, is something you probably also guessed.

“I mean, come on. To me, the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is only of interest if Warren gets in.” – David Letterman

“Enjoy every sandwich.” – Warren Zevon

He was born in Big Beaver by the borderline,
he started playing hockey by the time he was nine.
His dad took the hose and froze the back yard,
and little Buddy dreamed he was Rocket Richard.
He grew up big and he grew up tough.
He saw himself scoring for the Wings or Canucks,
but he wasn’t that good with a puck.

Buddy’s real talent was beating people up,
his heart wasn’t in it but the crowd ate it up.
Through pee-wee’s and juniors and midgets and mites.
He must have racked up more than three hundred fights.
Till a scout from the flames came down from Saskatoon,
said, “There’s always room on our team for a goon.
Son, we’ve always got room for a goon”

There were Swedes to the left of him.
Russians to the right.
A Czech at the blue line looking for a fight,
Brains over brawn-that might work for you,
but what’s a Canadian farm boy to do?
(Hit somebody!)
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do?
(Hit somebody!)
But what’s a Canadian farm boy to do?
(Hit somebody!)
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do?

“Hit somebody!” was what the crowd roared
when Buddy the goon came over the boards.
“Coach,” he said, “I wanna score goals.”
The coach said, “Buddy, remember your role.
The fast guys get paid, they shoot and they score.
Protect them, Buddy, that’s what you’re here for.”

“Protection – is what you’re here for.
Protection – it’s the stars who score.
Protection – go and kick somebody’s ass.
Protection – don’t put the biscuit in the basket, just
hit some, Buddy!” It rang in his ears.
Blood on the ice ran down through the years.
The king of the goons with a box for a throne,
a thousand stitches and broken bones.
He never lost a fight on his icy patrol,
but deep inside, Buddy only dreamed of a goal.
He just wanted one damn goal.

There were Swedes at the blue line,
Finns at the red.
A Russian with a stick heading straight for his head.
Brains over brawn – that might work for you,
but what’s a Canadian farm boy to do?
(Hit somebody!)
What else can a farm boy from Canada to do?
(Hit somebody!)
But what’s a Canadian farm boy to do?
(Hit somebody!)
What else can a farm boy from Canada do?

In his final season, on his final night,
Buddy and a Finn goon were pegged for a fight.
Thirty seconds left, the puck took a roll…
and suddenly Buddy had a shot on goal.

The goalie committed, Buddy picked his spot,
twenty years of waiting went into that shot.
The fans jumped up, the Finn jumped too.
And coldcocked Buddy on his follow through.
The big man crumbled, but he felt all right,
‘cuz the last thing he saw was the flashing red light.
He saw that heavenly light.

There were Swedes to the left of him.
Russians to the right.
A Czech at the blue line looking for a fight.
Take care of your teeth – that might work for you.
But what’s a Canadian farm boy to do?
(Hit somebody!)
What else can a farm boy from Canada do?
(Hit somebody!)
What’s a Canadian farm boy to do?
(Hit somebody!)
What else can a farm boy from Canada do?
(Hit somebody!)
What’s a Canadian farm boy to do?
(Hit somebody)

What else can a farm boy from Canada do?