Found 4 posts tagged ‘lyrics’ |
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Rhetorical Questions, Answered! –
August 14, 2021 |
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Q: "Why don't you write the words for a song?"
Walking down the road
Looking at the trees
People passing by
They say how do you look so great for your age today
I don’t know
I don’t know
From Motion Picture Classic, 1920.
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Colorful Allusions –
June 29, 2020 |
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Though Wikipedia won't tell you this, " Lavender's Blue," the old English folk song, was the original "[You Say Tomato, I Say To-mah-to,] Let's Call the Whole Thing Off." " Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green." Only in the folk song, they don't call the whole thing off just because they can't agree about the color of lavender. Interestingly, the lyrics in the 1670s version began with the colors the other way around: "Lavender's green, diddle, diddle, lavender's blue," so the first rhyme used to be about "you" and not a once or future "queen."
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Our Superior Wizard of Oz Version of a Rolling Stones Song
What's with The Rolling Stones song " Play with Fire"? People outside of London are supposed to relate to what "Stepney" and "Knightsbridge" are? No — those are terrible lyrics. A highly superior context for the song is The Wizard of Oz, which we can prove by offering side-by-side lyrics. You're welcome. (Note: we didn't bother trying to rhyme our wizardly remake of the song. Why give a damn trying to replicate the style of such a poor original? Our version shines brilliantly without any forced rhymes.)
| The Wizard of Oz Version (Superior) |
Original Rolling Stones Version (Stupid) |
| Well, you've got your rubies and you've got your little dog |
Well, you've got your diamonds and you've got your pretty clothes |
| And tornadoes drop you off |
And the chauffeur drives your car |
| You let everybody know |
You let everybody know |
| But don't play with me, or you're flying with monkeys |
But don't play with me, cause you're playing with fire |
| Your auntie she's a farmer, raising goats near witchy-ta |
Your mother she's an heiress, owns a block in Saint John's Wood |
| And your uncle’s under her spell |
And your father'd be there with her |
| Enchanted in toto |
If he only could |
| But don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys |
But don't play with me, because you're playing with fire |
| Your wizard asks for broomsticks; his promises hot air |
Your old man took her diamond's and tiaras by the score |
| Now you click your heels on brick roads |
Now she gets her kicks in Stepney |
| Not in Kansas anymore |
Not in Knightsbridge anymore |
| So don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys |
So don't play with me, because you're playing with fire |
| Now you walk on rubies and your future’s looking emerald |
Now you've got some diamonds and you will have some others |
But you'd better watch your step, girl
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But you'd better watch your step, girl |
Or there’ll be no place like home
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Or start living with your mother |
So don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys
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So don't play with me, cause you're playing with fire |
So don't play with me, or you’re flying with monkeys
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So don't play with me, cause you're playing with fire |
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I Found a Penny Today, So Here's a Thought –
May 21, 2007 |
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You're (Literally) the Top
(inspired by Cole Porter, of course)
You're the top;
you're the peak of Dante;
You're the top—
blue-chip picante.
You're the jewel in the crown of a dinner gown by Klein.
You're Dorsey's trombone,
you're Kheops' capstone,
you're altar wine.
You're the top—
as in "hat," on Fred's head.
You're the quip
dear old Oscar Wilde said.
I'm an inarticulate voiceless glottal stop.
But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top!
You're the top;
you're the head of Acme
(placed there
by imperial decree).
You're the high point of a fairy tale by Grimm.
You're lemon zest,
you're Arthur's crest,
you're the Battle Hymn.
You're the top—
you're the Everest summit.
You ascend
where others plummet.
Compared to me John Falstaff is a fop.
But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top!
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Original Content Copyright © 2025 by Craig Conley. All rights reserved.
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