Monday, May 25, 2009

Full Puppet Nudity! -- Do you think of me like fat? Do you think of me like crack? UUUggghhhh... The piano has been drinking


Something a little different for your enjoyment today from the weird fruits and vegetables beat. Feel free to add your favorites to this list.

Song lyrics you never thought you’d hear:

Do you think of me like fat?

Well, notice carefully the lyric here isn’t, Do you think of me AS fat? Or, Do you think I AM fat? It’s Do you think of me LIKE fat?

Now this is actually one of the most strangely beautiful and erotic jazz vocals you’ll ever hear. It’s from a sensual song called "Snow" by Canadian Patricia Barber. Here it is in context.

No, wait. First I should give you a line from the second verse you also thought you’d never hear :

Do you think of me like crack?

OK, here it is in context. Imagine Barber’s silky provocative voice behind these words…

Do you think of me like snow, cool slippery and white
Do you think of me Like jazz, as hip as black as night
Do you think of me Like line, summer sheets on which you sleep
Do you think of me Like ink, skinny words you want to keep
Do you think of me Like fat, irresistible as cream
On your lips on your hips like chocolate like a dream
Oh to be the moon
A diamond you can't resist
The space between the stars do you think of me like this

Do you think of me Like crack, illegally refined
Sunglass for your eyes, do you think that love is blind
Do you think of me Like salt, do you taste me in your tears
Do you think of me Like oil, filthy rich my dear

Then, of course, we have this wonderful line from one of my favorite jazz groups – "No Jazz." This lyric is from a jazz rap:

Hip hop, the boogaloo / Whatcha gonna do about the boogaloo?

Just repeat this line a couple of dozen times. You won't be able to get the damned thing out of your head.

Here's a lovely one from a great songwriter named Ray Wylie Hubbard. This song, for some strange reason, makes me think of a small town on the highway between Wichita and Oklahoma City, no small town in particularly, just one large enough to have a tourist attraction (imagine the billboard) called The Snake Farm.


That's it. Just a shiver in a word. Here's the thought in context, as if the context matters:

Snake Farm – it just sounds nasty
Snake Farm – well it pretty much is
Snake Farm – it's a reptile house
Snake Farm – Uuuggghhhhh......

Those of us who feel Uuuggghhhhhly about snakes have Mr. Hubbard to thank for putting our shivers into song.

Then, of course, we have the best strange song lyric of all time, from the master of such, Tom Waits. The piano has been drinking... is the quintessential darkness evoking line, eclipsing Bob Dylan’s immortal …they’re selling postcards of the hanging… by at least a furlong. Here are the first two verses for your amusement:

The piano has been drinking
My necktie's asleep
The combo went back to New York, and left me all alone
The jukebox has to take a leak
Have you noticed that the carpet needs a haircut?
And the spotlight looks just like a prison break
And the telephone's out of cigarettes
As usual the balcony's on the make
And the piano has been drinking, heavily
The piano has been drinking
And he's on the hard stuff tonight

The piano has been drinking
And you can't find your waitress
Even with the Geiger counter…

Let’s add one other twisted thought to this list. Here is a warning you thought you’d never see. It’s for an upcoming program at the Lied Center at the University of Kansas called “Avenue Q”:

“Not appropriate for children due to adult language and adult content such as full puppet nudity.”


Sometimes I think I’ve lived too long.

--Lofflin, waiting on the porch for more rain, but not enough to wash out Tuesday 60-and-over games…

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