Miscellaneous Song Crap

Today, we’ll be investigating some song lyrics, perhaps making them better (unlikely) or ruining them for you (more likely).

Let’s begin, shall we?

First up, Mr. Neil Diamond and “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon.”  Whenever I hear this song, I picture Neil, on the verge of deflowering some girl who is obviously making poor life decisions.  He’s just finished the second encore (Neil Diamond always brings it, dammit) and now he’s back in his dressing room, hovering over this young lady, sweat beading on his forehead, a single drop clinging to the end of his nose, threatening to jump.  A stained, sequined shirt hangs over the back of the armchair in the corner, tossed in haste as soon as the door closed behind him.  The entire room swims in a fog of Ben Gay and Drakkar Noir, and just as he’s about to complete the act, he looks down at her and says, “Girl, you’ll be a woman soon.”

Benny Mardones – “Into The Night”  – Let’s just point out the opening lines:

“She’s just sixteen years old
Leave her alone, they say”

So yeah, it’s a love song about the teenager he can’t bone.  And, for the record, this is Benny Mardone:


Not okay, Benny.  Not okay.

The Lennon Sisters – “Tonight You Belong To Me”

Here they are:

See, old people are always telling us that things were simpler in their day, more innocent.  And I assum I’ll do the same myself one day, sitting in my old age home yelling at the orderly how back in my day, we had to fight, fight I tell you, for our right to party! and if you don’t like it, you can just get the hell out of my room, Marcus!  Anyway, I am here to call bullshit on this innocent thing.

“I know (I know) you belong
To somebody new
But tonight
You belong to me


My honey I know
With the dawn
That you will be gone
But tonight
You belong to me”

You know what this song is people?  It’s a fucking booty call.  She (probably drunk) texted her ex (who’s in a relationship) trying to score some D.  Plus, she knows he won’t even be around in the morning.  Innocent times, my ass.

Okay, this next one I couldn’t find the title or info on, but I swear I heard it on the radio.  I was too stunned to do anything.  I think it’s from the 50s or maybe early 60s.  It’s from the point of view of the father telling his son not to fall for this “Indian girl” and in fact to stay away from her altogether.  The song reaches its climax when the father must eventually explain why.  Well, it turns out, that some time ago, the Indian tribe in question had scalped and killed the father’s only son, and so, out of revenge, the father stole the Indian chief’s son and raised him as his own, and he’s telling the kid he can’t marry that “Indian girl” because she’s his sister.  I shit you not.  What the fuck?

It seems Sheena Easton is a lazy asshole.  Calm down and I’ll explain using the lyircs from her hit song “Morning Train.”  To start:

“My baby takes the morning train
He works from nine to five and then
He takes another home again
To find me waitin’ for him”

What?  No job, Sheena?  The song doesn’t mention kids, so she’s just lounging around all day.

“He takes me to a movie or to a restaurant
To go slow dancing, anything I want”

What about what he wants, Sheena?  What about what he wants?  Is there a song out there about some dude who busts his butt all day to support his girlfriend but he’s cool with it because she does anal and threeways without hesitation?  Cause then it’d be okay.

“When he steps off that train, amazingly full of fight
Work all day to earn his pay, so we can play all night”

You know that mother fucker just wants to go to sleep early, just once, instead of taking her ass out dancing.

“Say Has Anybody Seen My Sweet Gypsy Rose?” by Tony Friggin Orlando

“We were very happy
Well at least I thought we were
Can’t somebody tell me
What’s got into her
A house, a home, a family
And a man who loves her so
Who’d believe she’d leave us
To join a burlesque show?”

The whole damn song is about a guy looking for his wife (and presumably mother of his kids) who left them and moved to New Orleans to become a stripper.  Spectacular.  And just look at him.

The hair, that ‘stash, those teeth.  He had no choice but to become a 70s heartthrob.  It was that or magician/serial killer.  Good call, Tony.  Good call.

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