Showing posts with label song lyrics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label song lyrics. Show all posts

Monday, September 28, 2020

Songs unsung: my lyrics, all undone


The following poems started life as song lyrics: songs which for the most part never found a tune, because my collaborator Bill Prouten was (at the time, maybe he's a changed man) too scattered to turn his brilliance towards writing the music. So no Prouten-Gunning, no Gunning-Prouten, or much of anything, except these words - which tell the story of my love for him, all those years ago. 

Lyrics without tunes are a bit sad, like orphans wandering around in the wilderness. But here they are anyway, or some of them, my favorites. Bill is in another universe of time now, and has fulfilled some of his dreams, but not all. I have broken my heart wide open, and repaired it over and over again, as well as I can. I look back at a distance of some eighteen years - the age of a grown person, really - but is my love for him now grown up? It has never even grown out. 

 

  



A NEW KIND OF SONG

The stars are aligning like jewels in the sky
The world is all juicy, like cherry pie
I feel such a rapture, at last I belong
For this is a new kind of song

And the bees in the trees make a buzzy old hum
My heart is dancing to a different drum
The door is more open than ever before
And there’s more -
More joy than I’ve tasted before

My life was a planet deserted and dry
And troubles came knocking, don’t ask me why
But something is changing, it cannot be wrong
And I’m singing a new kind of song 

A song that speaks of a love that lifts me high
A song that proclaims a hope that will not die
For the tide’s rushing in, and the desert will bloom
And the saints are all chasing those prophets of doom
And the wheel is a-spinning, it pulls me along
For this is a new kind of song

And the bees in the trees make a buzzy old hum
My heart is dancing to a different drum
The door is more open than ever before
‘Cause there’s more -
More blessings than I’ve ever known before 





A SLICE OF THE PIE

You got to know
When to roll out that dough
Don’t touch it too much
And such –
Catch my eye
Get a slice of the pie

You got to know
When to pluck those cherries ripe
The big juicy type
So ripe -
Look, say hi
Get a slice of the pie

If you wanna bake
Or maybe make some good love with me
Baby, let’s try
To scramble or fry
Our destiny

You got to smell
When it’s coming so well
Come taste the sweet
It’s nearly complete -
Good enough to eat

Come and dig in
It’s a sweet kind of sin
Got to live ‘til you die
Make some love on the sly
Get a slice of the pie 



 
 
 A SONG UNSUNG
 
“I love you” can never be unsaid 
And what’s done is done -
Then why do you run
I took the greatest risk with you
One soul can take with another
Forsaking all others
So why is it all so unstrung

And a song unsung
Is no kind of song at all
The music undone
Dark horses running towards a fall
The words pulled loose like thread
Unbinding the fine tapestry
Is this hollow feeling
What it really means to be free 

Giving your all
Is such an irrational act
A pledge, and a fact
I gave you more than I had
And my heart was glad
To make the sacrifice
More than once, more than twice

And a song unsung
Is no kind of song at all
Our plans undone
Dark forces pushing us to the wall
The love pulled loose like thread
Unbinding the fine tapestry
Is this hungry feeling
What it really means to be free

Then give me slavery –
This kind of free
Is the last thing I ever
Want to be 
 




CRAZY HORSE

Oh why you running after me
When I have no strength to run
I’ve told you I’m not interested
In your kind of fun

If you don’t hold your horses
You’re going to lose this race
You must be plain addicted
To the thrill of the chase

And you’ve got to
Get down off that crazy horse
Right now before I burn
Those letters that you sent me
You know it’s not your turn

If you don’t stop we’ll soon be at
The point of no return
Get off that pony, rider
You’re smart, but you don’t learn

Oh why you keep on chasing me
When my race is almost run
Keep up the pace, and my resolve
Will quickly come undone

Don’t want to get my hopes up
I’ll get to see your face
So run right by before I go
Commit some great disgrace

And you’ve got to
Get down off that crazy horse
Right now while I return
All those presents that you sent me
This tide will never turn

If you don’t slow down to a walk
I’ll start to crash and burn
Get off your high horse, rider
You’re smart but you don’t learn
Jump off that horse and hit the dirt
You’re smart, but you don’t learn 





DAY BY DAY

Since you’ve gone
I have to take things
Day by day

Can’t make plans
Can’t see ahead to
some other way

And I know
I’m looking backwards into
yesterday
I have to take things
Day by day

Day by day
It takes a lot of work to
Get me through
And I sigh
My watercolor’s
All one shade of blue
You were joy
But now my dream has
All come untrue
I have to take things
Day by day

And why
When we were planning something
That we thought would stay
Oh why
When I revealed my soul to you
Did you decide to stray

These days
Hang long and heavy
and my heart is sore
I try
to find the sunlight
and an open door

You’ve gone
but no one else can
love you more
day by day
Because there is no other way –
I have to take things
day by day day by day 



 
DIRTY MOON

The Moon is not so very sweet
In fact it’s down and dirty
You’re sweet, but kind of salty too
Mercurial and flirty
For in the sky, I see the why
Of how our love got started

We’re moonstruck fools, don’t know the rules
Tomorrow’s all uncharted
And that ol’ Moon Man is dirty
We better wash his face
We’ll shine up all the galaxies
As if we own the place

You’ll blaze just like a shooting star
Across the midnight sky
I’ll chase you ‘round the nebulae
So far, so wide, so high

The Moon’s not so romantic
It’s a great big hunk of stone
But rock can roll, and in your soul
You hate to be alone
We’re balls of cosmic fire
Colliding in the night
A beautiful disaster
Blindsided by the light

And that ol’ Moon Man is dirty
We better wash his face
And tip the constellations
Until they fall from grace
You’ll blaze just like a shooting star
Across the midnight sky
And I’ll chase you ‘round the nebulae
Until we feel so high

We’ll both go supernova. . .
So far, so wide, so high 



 
FORGIVING

To err is human
Your sins can’t be much worse than mine
And though I’m no saint, I won’t keep score
For love is a thing divine
A part of all that’s holy
A tender mystery

Glowing through the shadows we can see
And forgiving
Is the thing that lets us start our lives anew
Releasing
The anguish and the shame that we once knew
Forgive me
And I do promise I’ll forgive you too
Then please forgive yourself
It’s the hardest and the best thing you can do

To stray is weakness
Temptation a powerful spell
And when you gave in, said yes to her
It took us straight to hell
The things I said were slashing
They cut you to the soul
There’s only one thing that will make us whole

Forgiving
Is the key to letting all this heartbreak go
For living
Takes more compassion than most people know
I love you
Embrace me and this cup will overflow
Forgiving
Is God’s own wish -

Let’s make amends, and let our feelings show

 

 
GALAXIES

When we walked at midnight
Your eyes threw back the light
I took your hand
And we rode the starry night. . .

Galaxies
Twinkling celestial, and coaxing in the dawn
Catch the purple glow before it’s gone
Galaxies
I see galaxies

The long black skirt of night-time
Blows around you like the sway of midnight trees
Stirred by soft breeze
And in your eyes reflected
A treasure-chest of jewels that could be stars
I see Jupiter I see Mars

The Twins hang cool and sparkling
In a misty pool of deep and darkening skies
My heart’s unwise
And your long shadow shelters
My darlingmost desires in reverie
(when you whisper, come with me)

The mere revere of being here
All tangled in the forest of your hair
My soul aware
The sweet shock of your laughter
Like bells that peal and wake the sleeping night
All sorrow will take flight 

And in my dreams, the firefly streams
Will trace the shining pathway of your soul
To make me whole
The future is unwritten
But something says we’re reaching for the moon
I know we’ll be there soon 




GOD AND THE DEVIL

The sun shone
For so blazing long
I almost forgot about the rain
I loved you
And it was so strong
I couldn’t remember feeling pain

But when clouds came
And the sky was dark
I couldn’t recollect the sun
Now I hang on
To that shining time
When God and the devil were one

And you were a mistake
I needed to make
A wrong turn I just had to take
A bad habit difficult to break
A road to nowhere. . .

When it’s so wrong
Yet so strong
Then reason abandons the scene
And I wasted
So much precious time
Just waiting for Fate to intervene 

When you hurt me
With your hard words
My life came completely undone
Now I hang on
To that shining time
When God and the devil were one

And you were a mistake
I just had to make
A bad road I wanted to take
A habit impossible to break
A road to nowhere
That led me somewhere
A place of heartbreak

And ache. . .


 
I CAN’T HAVE YOU

It’s sunny and fine here, I’m sipping the wine
Of far-flung places,
But in the blank spaces, still there are tracings of you.
Where we walked, and spoke to each other
You joked, and all the lies of love came true
It seems I can have everything, but I can’t have you.

I can have headaches,
I can have heartaches,
But I can’t have you.
And what good are kisses,
And smiles and near-misses,
When it all turns blue

It seems that the farther I travel
The nearer I come to you,
I can lose myself in cocktails and find myself in pain,
I can run down the drain with the rain
But I can’t have you.

I’m feeling so well here, the boys are all tanned
And the water’s fine
And when I get restless, there’s always the haze
Of another glass of wine 

And I’m sick of roses, and insincere poses
So it’s good that you’re gone
But one thing I don’t understand –
How will I go on?

For I can have headaches,
And I can have heartaches,
But I can’t have you.
It seems that I missed you
From the moment I kissed you
One and one did not make two. 

And why is it the farther I travel
The nearer I come to you
I can lose myself in cocktails and find myself in pain
I can run down the drain with the rain
But I can’t have you.

I can run down the drain with the rain
But I can’t have you. 



 
IT'S AN ART

It scares me so much to hear you tell the truth
You’re making too much sense when you say
It’s time for our goodbyes
These agonizing whys
Will only make us lose our way

When you’ve tried for all those years
And hidden all your tears
The cost is just too much to pay
I gave you so much of my time
But this poem will not rhyme
And it’s time for us to part, and seize the day. . . 

For no matter what was holding us together
The signs say we have to come apart
A will is not a way, that’s why I cannot stay
For love is not a science – it’s an art

And lately I feel like a boat that’s cast adrift
Like an angel that has only one wing
It’s a new pair of shoes
I’ve got nothing to lose
But this freedom is a lonely sort of thing

And no matter why fate tossed us together
The time has come for us to come apart
A will is not a way, that’s why I cannot stay
Though love’s an artless thing
It still is art. . .
For love is not a science – it’s an art 



LET’S JUST TALK

So much of life is taken up
With things we don’t want to do
With boredom and chores
And locked-up doors
And people that irritate you

I don’t want to chase you
Distract or embrace you
But wouldn’t it be a delight
To sit next to you
Admiring the view
And just shoot the breeze half the night

Let’s just talk
I’m tired of games and complication
Have a go
I think we’re due some
Sparkling conversation

Let’s just talk
I’m too old to tease and too wise to try
Please ignore me if I
Accidentally
Breathe a sigh

I know what you think about politics
It isn’t worth anyone’s while
I know what makes you furious
And I know what makes you smile

But I don’t know what you think of me
It’s none of my business, I know
So let’s just sit and visit a while
And take things very slow

Let’s just talk
I’m tired of all the old manipulation
I like you
You’re a source of mental stimulation
Let’s just talk
I’m too old to tease and too wise to try
Please forgive me if I
Accidentally
Breathe a sigh

 

 
ONLY A GAME

You act like you have no idea
You’ve blown my cool
Set my heart to flame
An afternoon’s amusement
A way to kill some time
To you, it’s only a game

And when I see you, how my heart howls
You don’t even hear the sound
With that smile of yours that would melt a stone
I can’t stand to have you around
You dangle my heart on a watch-chain
To please yourself
It’s cruel, this thing
And I can’t believe
How I sit here and wait
For the goddamned phone to ring

And when I see you, how my hope soars
Until it crashes in flame
You’re the devil in jeans, a demon in blue
A man with no sense of shame
Because for you, this wild thing’s
Just a game –
For you, it’s only a game.

 

 
SALTY SWEET

In blessings there are curses
So my Mama said to me
And just like that, your lucky streak
Can turn to misery

But do not be discouraged
Or lose your sense of cool
The biggest curse could be much worse
So listen to my rule:

You’ve got to take the salty with the sweet
Life is never so complete
You’re down but never out, my friend – repeat:
You’ve got to
Take the salty with the sweet.

The nasty turns of fortune
We’ll never understand
The sweetest jelly-babies
Turn to bullets in your hand

That great big fat bonanza
Is disaster in disguise
Rub the belly of the genie
And smoke gets in your eyes

So. . .you’ve. . . got. . .to. . .

Take the salty with the sweet, my friend
Life will never be complete, oh no it won’t!
You’re gone but not forgot, my friend,

Repeat:

Take the salty with the sweet.


When Pedro lost his girl friend
His burro was so sad
He wouldn’t run no more, and it
Made Pedro very mad. 

Until he hung a carrot
Before that burro’s nose
And now he runs, and when he’ll stop
Poor Pedro never knows!

Take the salty with the sweet
Life ain’t always such a treat (and here is why):
You die just as it’s getting good – repeat!:
Take the salty with the sweet!

 

 
SILLY BOY

You walked into my life
And left your footprints on my skin
I could never tell if loving you
Was joy, or sin

It seems that if I touch you, I fall right in
And so I stay away. . .

Silly boy
I never should have
Set my heart on you

You’re a dream
That has no hope of coming true
 
When you smile
The angels smile along with you
Silly boy

I thought you meant it when
You said you’d be with me a while
But staying close to someone
Is not your style
It seems I have a habit of self-denial
And so I stay away. . .

Silly boy
I never should have
Lost my mind for you
You’re a dream
That bathes my heart in shades of blue

When you smile
The angels smile along with you
Silly boy

And when you left without me
All my plans just blew away
I knew that my composure
Wouldn’t last the day
It seems it doesn’t matter if I try to pray
And so, I say:

Silly boy
You never should have
Played games with my soul
I’m a fool
Who has no hope of feeling whole
Now you’re gone
My heart’s an empty, aching hole
You stole my joy
You silly boy

Silly boy . . .




SO ADDICTIVE

I don’t know what’s worse for me
Chocolate or gin
These cravings I fight
Want to pull me right in
I’m addicted to things
That are bad for my skin
And my heart –

I don’t know why love’s
Such a powerful drug
So cunning and baffling
It pulls out the plug
And though I’m resisting
I’ve still got the bug -
Not too smart!

And you’re
So addictive
A passion I’m trying way too hard to control
So addictive
A poison invading my sanity and my soul 

So addictive
I’d better seek help for it soon
Or I’ll break
And start howling at the moon

I’m twelve steps away from you
Trying to stay
On the straight narrow path
Though I’m losing my way
And I’m striving for faith
While I’m longing to stray
To your door

I’m feeling so powerless
Knowing it’s wrong
And why is recovery
Taking so long
Who knew that a poison
Could look like a man
I adore

Because you’re
So addictive,
A cocktail so potent I dare not take one drink
So addictive
I’m too buzzed to reason or even try to think

So addictive
That soon I fear I’ll slip
And take
Just a sip

Let me raise this glass
To my lip. . .

You’re so addictive.




Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Songs of the Pogo: ALL the words!







When we originally bought this album in 1951, it came with a very classy-looking Songs of the Pogo hardcover book with all the music (written and arranged by Norman Monath) and lyrics by Walt Kelly. I also remember some lavish illustrations from the Okefenokee Swamp. Alas, all of this has been lost, at least to me. A few relatively-pristine copies of the original record are still floating around, and someone transcribed a very clean-sounding one onto a CD which also contains some very weird Walt Kelly readings. (Probably available on YouTube.) But the words are now only available through somebody-or-other's auditory transcript, and as always it's laced with mondegreens (misheard lyrics, as in "Scuse me while I kiss this guy"). I have done my best to correct these, but again, I had to rely on my ear. Potlocky was the most fiendishly difficult to decipher, and after a couple dozen listenings I gave up on a few lines and gave it my best guess. Some of these seem to venture into the land of the surreal, or fall into the category of verbal jazz. I am very sad Gershwin didn't live to see and appreciate Songs of the Pogo - somehow I think it would have delighted him.

Go Go Pogo

As Maine go oh-so Pogo-go Key Largo,
Otsego to Frisco go-to Fargo,
Okeefenokee playin'
A-possum on a Pogo
Stick around and see the show
Go over land alive-a band o' jive will blow go-Pogo
I-go you-go who-go to-go Polly-voo go,
From Caravan Diego, a-Waco and Oswego,
Tweedle-de he-go she-go we-go me-go Pogo.

Atascadero wheeler barrow, some place in Mexico
Delaware Ohio and you don't need the text to go
Wheeling, West Virginia 
With ev'rything that's in ya.
Down the line you'll see the shine
From Oregon to Caroline

Eenie meenie minie Kokomo-go Pogo.
Tishimingo, sing those lingo, whistling go.
Shamokin to Hoboken Chenango to Chicango
It's golly, I go goo-goo goin' go-go Pogo.

(musical interlude)

Atascadero wheeler barrow, some place in Mexico
Delaware Ohio and you Don't need the text to go.
Wheeling, West Virginia With ev'rything that's in ya.
Down the line you'll see the shine
From Oregon to Caroline,
Yes, eenie meenie minie Kokomo go Pogo.
Tishimingo, sing those lingo, whistling go.
Shamokin to Hoboken, Chenango to Chicango
It's golly, I go goo-goo goin' go-go Pogo!

Editor's note. I wasn't going to comment on these. Really, I wasn't, because what can you say? It's the craziest explosion of verbal popcorn I've ever seen, with twists and turns and convolutions, puns on puns. But even that doesn't begin to describe it. This particular song, sung by Walt Kelly in a gravelly voice that reminds me of my Uncle Aubrey, needs to be heard to be believed.  Can you imagine, when I was three or four or five years old, trying to decipher what this meant, and how the grownups all seemed to know already? He uses a lot of place names in this one, but gives them a twist, like "caravan Diego" (San Diego?), "Tishimingo, sing those lingo, whistling go" -wait, wait, I know who this sounds like! Gerard Manley Hopkins, with his bizarrely twisted grammar and inverted sentence structure, strange vocabulary and useage, and punnish use or abuse of similes. I especially like "Wheeling, West Virginia with everything that's in ya".

Though the album is called Songs of the Pogo, this is the only song that mentions Pogo at all, and it's nothing to do with the comic strip. It's just a form of verbal scat-singing that riffs on the sound of Pogo:  I-go-you-go-who-go-to-go-polly-voo-go. I wonder now if some of Pogo's fans were a little disappointed in this, expecting Albert the Alligator caterwauling with his ukelele.

Whence that Wince?

I was stirrin' up a stirrup cup
In a stolen sterling stein,
When I chanced upon a ladle
Who was once my Valentine.

"Oh whence that wince, my wench?" quoth I.
She blushed and said, "Oh sir,
Old daddy isn't stirrin'
Since my momma's been in stir."

This one is a masterpiece of alliteration. I had no idea then what a stirrup cup is - it took until about last Friday to find out. 

Stirrup cup: a cup of wine or other alcoholic drink offered to a person on horseback who is about to depart on a journey. 


OK, so I DIDN'T know what it meant. I thought it was just "a drink" or mulled wine or something, and let the "stirrup" part go as an obscurity. "In stir" is another archaic expression, something to do with being in jail, but I don't think the average person would know that. Nice how it fits together with "stirrup cup" - didn't even notice that until just this second.


Northern Lights


Oh, roar a roar for Nora,
Nora Alice in the night,
For she has seen Aurora
Borealis burning bright.

A furore for our Nora!
And applaud Aurora seen!
Where, throughout the Summer, has
Our Borealis been?

This is one of Kelly's more haiku-like poem/songs. Pongs? Soems? It looks simple, but just try doing it. I had a cousin Nora once, Irish, and this song reminds me of her. And that's all I can say. It's beautiful, it is. Take care of the sounds, as Lewis Carroll once said, and the sense will take care of itself. Also, I like the way Nora Alice and Borealis sort of reflect each other.


Slopposition

Oh, once the opposition was completely opposed
To all the supposition that was generally supposed
But now the superstitions that were thought to be imposed
Are seen by composition to be slightly decomposed

Kelly wordplay, not as great as some, but they can't all be Go Go Pogo, can they? There is a nice echo between the "ition" words and the "osed" words in each line. Come to that, I couldn't do it, at all.


A Song Not for Now

A song not for now you need not put stay
A tune for the was can be sung for today
The notes for the does-not will sound as the does
Today you can sing for the will-be that was.

This one is REALLY simple, but Norman Monath's tune is innocent and sweet. The arrangements in this album generally are a tad lavish, and some of them are even precious. But those were the times. There IS an innocence about Pogo the character that keeps the strip from becoming too cynical or smart-alecky. As time wore on, Kelly became more angrily political, and I think that took something away from it.


Twirl, Twirl

Twirl! Twirl! Twinkle between!

The tweezers are twist in the twittering twain.
Twirl! Twirl! Entwiningly twirl
‘Twixt twice twenty twigs passing platitudes plain.

Plunder the plover and rover rides round.

Ring all the rungs on the brassily bound,
Billy, Swirl! Swirl! Swingingly swirl!
Sweep along, swoop along, sweetly your swain.

Again, the alliteration is glitteration, but when we get to "platitudes plain", I think of it as a place, a plane, or perhaps an airborne vehicle. These things fall on the ear more than they live on the page. Anyway, I don't think a standard-issue mind could think of the line "plunder the plover and rover rides round". It might be Rover, for all I know. There IS a dog in Pogo, isn't there? (I can't get it out of my head now. Platitude's Plane.)


Parsnoops

Oh, the parsnips were snipping the snappers,
While the parsley was parcelling the peas,
And parsing a sentence from handle to hand
Was a hornet who hummed with the bees.

The turnips were passing the time of the day
In the night of the moon on the porch,
When the shape from the shadows so shortfully shrift
That the scallions were screeching the scorch!

I don't know, I don't find this one very friendly, but I don't think anyone else on the planet could have written it. The Monath tune is kind of jaggedy somehow, and I find it uncomfortable. There are moments in Kelly where I feel kind of frightened, like I'm wandering around in a mindscape that is a tad too bizarre. 


The Keen and the Quing

The Keen and the Quing were quirling at quoits,
In the meadow behind the mere.
Tho’ mainly the meadow was middled with mow,
And heretical hitherto here.

The Prince and the Princess were plaiting the plates
And prating quite primly the peer.
And that’s why the Duchess stuck ducks on the Duke
For no one was over to seer.

Now violin only with pizzicato:
Plinky, plinky, pa-lunkity plank, plank, plank
Pa-lunky, pa-lunky, plink plink plink plink plink
Arco, zoom-zoomety-zoom!
Ska-weakity, squeaky squeak-squeaky ska-weak
Con sordino squeaky ska-weak
Now sensa sordino, squeak squeak squeak sque-eeak
Now pizzicato,  plunk plunk plunk
Plunk, plunk!

This one is a favorite, perhaps my all-time favorite, not just because of the gorgeous Spoonerisms but because of the delicate violin passage at the end, with instructions from the baritone. All the instructions are technically correct, by the way - I checked with my violin teacher, who was quite impressed. We all know what pizzicato is. Arco means long, smooth bows. Con sordino means playing with a mute, sensa sordino is playing without a mute. The "squeakity squeak" is most familiar from my own musical instruction.


Man's Best Friend

What gentler heart, what nobler eye
Doth warm the winter day,
Than the true, blue orb and the oaken core
Of beloved old dog Tray?

I never knew why a dog would be called Tray. Again, the reference is obscure, an old Stephen Foster song that I had to look up: 

Old dog Tray’s ever faithful, 
Grief cannot drive him away, 
He’s gentle, he is kind; 
I’ll never, never find 
A better friend than old dog Tray. 

Tray is one of those Southern names, like Trey, sometimes used as a baby name. Has some card-playing meaning, and something to do with fives. It reminds me of other Southern names with II or III after them. Treat Williams comes to mind. Erica Jong had a wild Southern character named Dart, and another one called Trick that was probably a play on Treat. And then there's Ring. As in Lardner. Note that all of these names represent things: a tray, a treat, a dart, a trick, a ring. 


Don't Sugar Me

Oh, I may be your cup of tea,
But, baby, don’t you 'Sugar’ me!
Don’t stir me, boy, nor try to spoon,
Don’t sugar me, 'cause us is throon!

I won’t sip a lip with you, less
You want a granulated lump or two,
Just roll them eyes right out that door,
Them saucer eyes ain’t square no more.

All them things, them diamond rings,
Them stuff you promised me,
Were figments, Newton, sure as shootin’,
Shootin’ sure as A, B, see

The teapot pouts that the kettle’s blue,
It don’t work out that spar is true,
Just boil away, boy, don’t sit and brew,
Don’t sugar me, cause us is through!

This is a torch song with a twist. It has probably the greatest concentration of puns and double meanings of any of them, along with great lines like "don't 'Sugar' me, 'cause us is throon!" "Them stuff" always impressed me, along with "figments, Newton". One thing Kelly does, especially in this one, is use common phrases in strange ways: "a granulated lump or two", "roll them eyes right out that door", "boil away, boy, don't sit and brew". "Don't sugar me" is an interesting choice, because it can mean dumping sugar on/in someone or something, or being over-familiar with endearments. But he says it better.



Whither the Starling

Whither the starling and whither the crow?
And whither the weather when wither the snow?
The weaver’s wet daughter has damped the clothes
With wavelets of water left over from snowthes.
Left over from snowthes,
Left over from snowthes,
Right over and under 
And yonder she goes.

"Wavelets of water left over from snowthes." I feel like that right now. We had a record snowfall over Christmas, it's all melting now, and we're having to deal with those wavelets of water. Left over from snowthes. And there is just something wonderfully wacky about "the weaver's wet daughter".


Willow the Wasp

There were some wasps in our town
Who, with their wonderous wives,
They suckled at the bramble bush
In search of lovely lives.

And, when they saw the bush was dry,
Quick!, each and every one,
They wrapped it well in wire barb,
To shield it from the sun.

Outstanding line: "In search of lovely lives". I have long wanted to use this as the title for something. "Wire barb" used to bother me as a kid, I can't say why. In fact, I found the whole song disturbing, with its shivering minor-key strings. Of course, the term WASP had not been coined yet.


Truly True

Gamboling on the gumbo, with the gambits all in gear,
I daffed upon a dilly who would be my dolly dear,
Oh dilly, I would dally, if you’d be but truly true,
How silly, I must sally off to do my duly do.

Nice, but nothing special, except for the barbershop harmony.


Many Harry Returns

Once you were two,
Dear birthday friend,
In spite of purple weather.

But now you are three
And near the end
As we grewsome together.

How fourthful thou,
Forsooth for you,
For soon you will be more!

But – ‘fore
One can be three be two,
Before be five, be four!

Not sure if he wrote this for one of his children. Kelly did feature adorable baby animals in the strip, such as Pup Dog and the mysterious "woodchuck" Grundoon, anthropomorphized into completely human form.


Potlucky

Briskly breathing brackish brine,
Brazenly we bray,
Simmering songs of swimming swine,
Scattering Saturday,

Hearts are heavy, clubs are trump,
Diamonds are in rough
Spades are spotty, jokers jump,
Dummies are enough

Can we eggplant, can we corn,
Can we succotash?
String we strong beans for the morn
Masterful moustache.

Deathly dumplings made of mud,
Grace our festive board,
Free from auntie flees the flood
Tropical storm discord,

Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye, now,
Cup ye now an eye,
Weary deary keary cow,
Moo and kicks his pie,

The speaker spoke
the reeler wheels
A kingdom for a hum,
A rub a dub, a dub mobile
Oh rub a dub,
A dub.

This song should be illegal. "Masterful moustache" is probably the only line I can mentally process. I had to piece together various parts of this lyric which were badly mangled/mondegreened, but I am still not sure I got it quite right. This is another place where I get a little scared, for some reason. He makes language do stuff it just doesn't want to do.


The Hazy Yon

How pierceful grows the hazy yon!
How myrtle petaled thou!
For spring hath sprung the Cyclotron,
How high browse thou, brown cow?

Some group apparently recorded this fairly recently, and no one had any idea where it came from. It has a hazy harp accompaniment that slowly fades, along with the singer's voice, at the end. It may well be a play on the odd statement or question, "How now, brown cow?" - which I never understood, so. . . I'll look it up. . . 

"A nonsense phrase with no real meaning as such, although it also is sometimes used as a jovial greeting. This phrase used to be used in elocution teaching to demonstrate rounded vowel sounds. It isn't clear when it was coined or where. It was certainly known in the USA by 1942, although probably earlier. People used to pronounce this as 'high nigh brine kai'." That last bit is, of course, the Canadian pronunciation.


Lines Upon a Tranquil Brow

Have you ever while pond'ring the ways of the morn,
Thought to save just a bit, just a drop in the horn
To pour in the ev'ning or late afternoon,
Or during the night when we're shining the moon?

Have you ever cried out while counting the snow,
Or watching the tomtit warble hello...
"Break out the cigars, this life is for squirr'ls,
We're off to the drugstore to whistle at girls!"

Ah! "Drop in the horn" is another one, a very obscure, old, perhaps even Elizabethan term (Kelly having a mind for this historical Southern stuff). It means the last bit in a bottle of booze. Until I figured this out, which took only 56 years, I didn't know what "to pour in the evening" meant at all. I thought the guy was sort of pouring like vapour, like those monster creatures who waft under the crack of a door. I love that "when we're shining the moon" - sheer poetry - and the cry, "Break out the cigars! This life is for squirrels."  

BONUS. Here's a splendid Kelly site that you could easily get lost in. Great reproductions of his Sunday colour comics, along with much older stuff. Wonder where he got permission?

http://whirledofkelly.blogspot.ca/

Who Killed Cock Robin? (according to Pogo)

Friday, October 14, 2016

Diamonds and Rust: a love that lasts a lifetime





The Nobel Prize for Literature is yet another step towards immortality for Bob Dylan. The rebellious, reclusive, unpredictable artist/composer is exactly where the Nobel Prize for Literature needs to be.
His gift with words is unsurpassable. Out of my repertoire spanning 60 years, no songs have been more moving and worthy in their depth, darkness, fury, mystery, beauty, and humor than Bob’s. None has been more of a pleasure to sing. None will come again.

- Joan Baez


Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Joan Baez. She was the queen of folk music then and now. She took a liking to my songs and brought me with her to play concerts, where she had crowds of thousands of people enthralled with her beauty and voice. People would say, "What are you doing with that ragtag scrubby-looking waif?" And she'd tell everybody in no uncertain terms, "Now you better be quiet and listen to the songs." We even played a few of them together. Joan Baez is as tough-minded as they come. Loyal, free minded and fiercely independent. Nobody can tell her what to do if she doesn't want to do it. I learned a lot of things from her. A woman of devastating honesty. And for her kind of love and devotion, I could never pay that back.


- Bob Dylan


Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Blah, blah, blah: Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah





Hallelujah

Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah




You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah




So what on God's green earth could these two songs have to do with each other? One is nothing but blah-blah-blahs pasted together with the "moon-June-Saskatoon" cliches of bad love songs (and no. . . it doesn't actually have Saskatoon in it. Which makes me think of Peter Lorre in the Spike Jones version of My Old Flame: "No. . . it couldn't have been Moe. . .").

I love the Blah-Blah song, which was written by George and Ira Gershwin for a movie called Delicious in 1931.  But I am also irritated by it, mainly because nobody knows how to sing it. I've suffered through several YouTube performances, all of them awful except one (and I posted it already - I'll have to look it up). Almost everyone "blah-blahs" as if they don't remember the words. They roll their eyes and wring their hands and rack their brains and look as if they want to run offstage with embarrassment. But the joke is - and maybe people were cleverer in 1931 - THE WORDS DON'T MATTER. Nobody pays the slightest bit of attention to them. Furthermore, most love songs have crappy words anyway, so crappy they're interchangeable. There's a blueprint that most songwriters stick to, and it's tried and true, and banal and dull, and it works. 






OK then, whoof. How did I get from this blah-blah-blah thing to Leonard Cohen?

I think I am the last person on the planet who does NOT like Hallelujah. I just don't. The tune isn't. . . too. . .bad, but the lyric is a stinker. But that shouldn't be a problem, and do you know whyyy?

No one has ever noticed it.

No one has ever noticed this lyric ("it goes like this"), and I say this because people are constantly wanting to have it sung at weddings, or at confirmation services, or at baptisms. Why? Because it has the word "hallelujah" in it, probably sixteen or eighteen or twenty times.

It's not a dirty song or anything, but it's just all wrong: a typical angsty, brooding, narcissistic, self-involved, dark, vaguely profane, masturbatory Cohen thing. I'm not sure I want to hear that anywhere, let alone in church.





I read somewhere on a web site - Mormon or something - that the choir was asked by the minister to sing Hallelujah at a service. Everyone was on-board and very enthusiastic about it, because they all loved the song. They didn't have time to go over it at choir practice, but hey - they all knew the tune anyway! And they loved that chorus: Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, etc. Surely with a refrain like that, it must be a truly holy song.

Instead, it was more like: HOLY SHIT! The choir director, just as she was passing out the sheet music before the service, happened to just glance at the words, and the lines "you saw her bathing on the roof. . .she tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair. . . "

Actually, that IS pretty scriptural. Bathsheba liked to take her bath in public, especially if sexually-rampant men were watching.  And anyone familiar with scripture knows what happens next. (Adultery, anyone?). And didn't somebody get a hair cut at about that time? It was David, wasn't it? Or not. And I'm not too sure he was tied to a kitchen chair.





So they sang something else. They did Praise God From Whom All, or Blessed Be The, or I Praise Thy Whatever (or whatever they do in the Mormon church). And afterwards, everyone ran up to the choir director and said, "Awwwww. Why didn't you do Hallelujah?"

What the fuck do people think this song SAYS, anyway? True, it's sort of scriptural, but it was Samson who had the haircut, not David, losing all his strength to that wily succubus, Delilah. So scriptural accuracy is compromised, sliced and diced for his own convenience, but perhaps Cohen realized no one was going to notice it anyway. No one was going to notice any part of it except the refrain, and the word that's repeated sixeen times (or eighteen, or twenty-four, depending on how long the fade is).





I've written often about mondegreens, those misheard/mistranscribed words that swarm all over internet lyric sites. Bizarrely, the SAME mondegreens seems to be replicated over and over again, on every site. I don't know how this happens, unless there is a Badly Transcribed Song Lyric Central somewhere that has all the lyrics with all the errors, all the time.

I know they're mondegreens because I listen to the original version, with the original artist, sometimes more than one version, just to be sure.  So kids, it really ISN'T "s'cuse me while I kiss this guy". 

Hallelujah doesn't qualify as a mondegreen, at all. It's not misheard. It's an ignored lyric, or a disregarded lyric, or a lyric with an erroneous assumption attached to it that it will be a Truly Holy Song because it has the word Hallelujah repeated so many times it's like machine-gun fire. So in the church I used to go to, and suffered through (especially in the choir, which was abysmal), one woman said, "I'd really like to do the Leonard Cohen song, Hallelujah," and everyone went "ohhhh!" and "yeah!" and chimed in with enthusiasm. The choir leader said he'd order the sheet music. 





I said something about the lyrics being kind of inappropriate, and, conversation-wise, the floor dropped about 37 feet. I disappeared and vaporized as surely as that supposedly-holy Leonard Cohen lyric. I no longer existed because I wasn't chiming in, and besides, I was just being "negative" like I always was, spoiling things. (This was because I didn't want a six-voice version of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus, bawled off-key by people who couldn't sing a note. But the congregation thought it was simply wonderful.)

Hallelujah was never sung in my former church, for some reason, but I did see a very famous, viral video of a priest singing it at a wedding - and by the holy, all the lyrics were changed! Suddenly there was no one being tied to chairs, no haircuts, no one splashing around naked on a rooftop. It was all rendered extremely bland and weddingy. But what are the chances Leonard Cohen was ever consulted about this? And I am sure that when churches and wedding/baptism planners FINALLY get to the point of glancing at the lyrics and realize it's about an adulterous affair, they just get a pencil and start to work. "Oh, then, we can just sing our OWN version of it."





Last time I checked, that was extremely illegal. At very least, it's unethical, particularly for a church. Even some normal, ordinary songs like hymns can't be sung in church, at all, because of copyright. Not everything is in the public domain, and casually butchering a Leonard Cohen song is just not a good thing. 

I don't like this song, but I don't think it should be naively gutted just to sanitize it. Either go with the naked chick and the haircut, or forget about it.

Or maybe, instead of the David and Bathsheba thing, everyone should just go like this:

Blah blah blah blah blah blah-blah-blah
Blah blah blah blah blah blah-blah-blah
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah, do you?


ADDENDUM. As usual, there is More To The Story.

A cold and broken Hallelujah: singing priest removed from YouTube
Wednesday, April 30, 2014


By Denise O'Donoghue
Reporter

The singing priest is no more - his video has disappeared from YouTube. Fr Ray Kelly’s rendition of Hallelujah was pulled following a copyright claim by Sony ATV Publishing.





Sony ATV Publishing own the rights to the original Leonard Cohen song.

The video had gained over 30m views on YouTube since it was uploaded to the website earlier this month, making Fr Kelly an instant star.

Fr Kelly recently revealed he was meeting with Sony to discuss a record deal.

Although the original video has been removed, other videos of his performance are still available on YouTube.

The Oldcastle parish priest surprised newly-weds Leah and Chris O’Kane with a personalised version of the Leonard Cohen song. He received a standing ovation before returning to the pulpit to deliver the final prayer.

Fr Kelly's fame led to him appearing on the Late Late Show and he is jetting off to New York to perform a concert on May 13 at The Town Hall on 123 West 43rd Street.

(I can't decide which of the Ten Commandments he broke here: Thou Shalt Not Steal, or Thou Shalt Not Write and Perform Sappy, Maudlin Lyrics to a Song by a Well-Respected, If Overly-Commercialized Poet? Or is it. . . Thou Shalt Not Gut a Popular Song and Casually Substitute Dreck of Your Own and Thus Become World-Famous Overnight, Not That You Care Because You're A Priest and Above All That Worldly Stuff? Moses would've needed a few extra tablets for that one.)

OH GOD! More verses. As I listened to a few of the recorded versions, I kept hearing extra stuff. It's kind of dirty, too, making the song even MORE inappropriate at weddings where nobody even thinks of sex, for Christ's sake (what is the matter with you?). Some versions have these verses, some don't. Did Leonard Cohen really write these, or was it that dirty old Irish priest? You know about priests, don't you? Dirty things.




Baby, I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor (you know)
I used to live alone before I knew ya
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...

There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me, do ya?
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...

Maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah