From the recording Tales

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Mark Westin: Guitars, Weissenborn, lead and background vocals
Will Bryant: Keyboards, mandolin and background vocals
Lee Falco: Drums, percussion and background vocals
Brandon Morrison: Bass and background vocals

Produced by Mark Westin with Brandon, Lee and Will
Recorded and mixed by Brandon Morrison at The Building, Marlboro, NY
Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side Music, Cornwall, NY
Written by Mark Westin
Published by Spinach World Music/BMI (c) 2023


‘Hey Tinkerbell,’ I said, ‘Why you still hanging around?
I’d think someone like you got better things to do than stay in this dead-end town.’

There was one bare bulb chasing off the gloom in that dingy little room
She was flying around throwing shadows until she set herself down on the sill

She said, ‘Tell you the truth, here’s a good place as any you’ll see.
This fairy life ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Now gimme another shot, will ya?’

I poured out a stiff one and placed it by her side
She inhaled the aroma and smiled

Then her wings started beating and she lifted straight up
Did a pirouette in midair and dove into the cup

It occurred to me then that I never had reason to think
How a pint-sized fairy would handle a life-size drink
Then I laughed ‘cause I thought, ‘But that’s Tink.’

‘Ooh, I’m gettin’ tipsy,’ she shouted to me when her nose appeared over the rim
She pushed back her whisky-soaked hair from her face and flashed me that tiny grin

‘Be careful,’ I said, ‘or I’m cutting you off,’ but that only made Tinkerbell smirk
‘I’m a fairy you asshole, you can’t fuck with me
I got spells I can throw make your dick cease to work.’

I said, ‘Look at us, Tink, in this pitiful state, I thought all fairy tales ended happy?’
‘First of all, nothing’s ended,’ said Tinkerbell, ‘yet. So enjoy where you’re at.
Now hit me again, make it snappy.’

‘You ain’t happy?’ She asked as I refilled her glass. ‘You got everything necessary.
Got a roof, got your booze, got your love for the blues
Not to mention your very own personal fairy.’

Then she’s up in the air for a brief arabesque and a nice triple backflip down
And I wondered if this was the price of her fame as I watched her splash into the brown

Then the next thing I see, she’s off blowing chunks in the sink
And I knew in that moment no one would believe me, but I’ll never care what they think
I’ll just laugh and I’ll say,’Well, that’s Tink.’