Mrs. Robinson’s Bassist

The thunder was only inferred on the original recording.

But the punk rock bassist makes sure you don’t miss it this time.

He puts the simple but insistent bottom at the forefront of the song.

For hours later I still can hear the thumping in my ears.

I am sure if I go back to film version, – quieter, folkier –

I will still hear this bassline.

It can’t be unheard, now.

And I think, “Well that’s not the way Benjamin would have played it”,

and Mrs. Robinson never would have hit on that guy.

I picture him as somewhat quiet like Benjamin,

But with tattoos and piercings, perhaps overgrown spiked hair,

sweating bullets at the Rat and stealing the song from the singer.

Shy, but under it all some kind of aggression that he inflicts on those poor four strings.

And I wonder if this was his peak,

And if he has since settled down in Suburbia,

Married with now already grown kids,

Balding and moving much more slowly, but happily.

But never having found that kind of reckless magic ever again.

I wonder if he looks back and says those were the days

Or if he celebrates all they came after.

And if he moved on to other ways to make thunder,

and whether he now still sweats but more sweetly.

But then I wonder if he ever picks up that bass again and plays that riff over and over again

And beats the shit out of those four strings again

And if it makes him just a little more alive.