Storage Space

The kids are old enough to make music choices. I told them that they had to be really careful what music they listened to because it would stick in their brains forever. To prove my point I said that I could remember songs from waaaaaaaaaay back. Songs that I listened to before anyone told me to use discretion. I told them that I bet every lyric I'd ever heard was stuck in my brain somewhere.
"Sing one, sing one!" they cried.
The first one that came to my mind out of nowhere was:
"Ooh, ooh, witchy woman, see how high she flies!"
They roared with laughter. "Do it again, Mom!"
I don't know the name of that song, or who sang it, or what it was about, but I could sing the next line:
"Ooh, ooh, witchy woman, she's got the moon in her eye-eye-eye-eyes."
They thought this was just hilarious. I didn't bother to sing the next song that popped into my head:
"Billy, don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life. Billy, don't be a hero, come back and make me your wife. And as he started to go, she said Billy, keep your head low, oh-oh. Billy, don't be a hero, come back to me."
It's sad.
And scary.
And I hope I'm not in a nursing home at 90 repeating snatches of lines like these. It's all up there. It's just that today, I can control it.