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I heard “Lucky Man” on the radio this afternoon. It took me all the way back the mid-80s when I was dating a real prince of a guy. That song was old even then. Anyway, he told me the song was about a wealthy man who died because his ‘friends’ wouldn’t save him because they were jealous that he had so much money.

What? Even my marijuana-addled teenage brain couldn’t make that leap. That should have been a clue to me that he was just … well, crazy. Paranoid crazy. Then again, this was the guy who accused me of stealing $20 from him. I think my response was something like “You’re a drug dealer and I’ve watched you count out thousands – why would I steal $20?”  He found it later – and didn’t bother apologizing, either. Funny the things you remember.  He’s married now and he has three kids. God help us all.

See what havoc a song lyric can wreak on a beautiful summer afternoon?

A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died    <–  not about jealousy, you freak

Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was

Here’s a live version of the song.

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