This is the last gratuitous (vocal) guitar solo of the Portland Songs project, I promise.  I’ve been meaning to write a song about the Hawthorne area for a while, but what to write?  It’s such a hip district, and seems to become more and more so as the years go by.  So this week’s song, “Not Hip Enough For Hawthorne,” ended up being about exactly that phenomenon: who’s even cool enough to live on Hawthorne anymore?  Well, as the biographical third verse to this song says, it’s certainly not me.  No square-dressing a cappella geek gets to live on Hawthorne -- we just get to write songs about it!

Lyrics:

Hey there, I recognize you,

Why are you here -- you think that you’re who?

You’ve done something that you just shouldn’t do,

I don’t like finding you passing through.

Hey there, get off of my street.

I don’t like your head, I don’t like your feet.

You’re so preppy, man, and so very elite --

I don’t like people who look so darn neat.

Your car is so modern, it’s not a Volkswagen,

You don’t have a body-length tat’ of a dragon,

Your clothes are so new, no holes and no strains

And that hamburger you’re eating wasn’t made from whole grains!

I swear ’69 is when I should’ve been born.

I set urban fashion when I get up in the morn.

All you’re ever going to do is feel my scorn,

‘Cause you’re not hip enough, not hip enough for Hawthorne.

Hey there, you’re crashing my scene,

I don’t wanna cause problems, don’t wanna be mean.

I believe in peace, man, I voted for Howard Dean --

When you look up “alternative” you’re sure to find me.

Your look is too sleek, with your suit and your slacks.

Don’t you know that brown and green have become the new black?

Burning incense only makes you sneeze,

And you’re holding that bag from Mickey D’s!

The thought of eating meat just leaves me forlorn --

Just give me some soybeans, and maybe some corn.

You can’t understand, your jeans aren’t even torn

And you’re not hip enough, not hip enough for Hawthorne.

You can tell by this song that I often mourn

That my fashion’s vanilla and my hair is shorn.

I’ve been a total geek since the day I was born

And I’m not hip enough, not hip enough for Hawthorne.