I embarrassed myself yesterday by getting a tune stuck in my head to which I knew all (or as nearly all as my advancing years would allow) the words and about which I still had no idea on the meaning. I don't think either Bugs or I are in danger of winning this year's The Voice competition. Though, I must also point out, neither is Eminem (or less kindly, especially Eminem).
I never knew what the song meant-learning it as a child (I hate when people say 'as a small child' thanks for the visual, like I needed it), I found keeping track of all the words hard enough work without attempting to decipher the lyrics and their meaning. And when I found this in answer to my wondering and while wandering the web, I'm hoping maybe it's another five decades or more until I next sing it. Maybe you, too.
It's like being downstairs in Upstairs, Downstairs-better and cooler parts but a tad creepier and definitely more disquieting. And speaking of Britons, both Great and otherwise, while I was spelunking for meaning yesterday I checked out Bob's Your Uncle. Yikes! I'll bet Walter Becker is thrilled we didn't opt for Robert's Your Father's Brother. Would have turned a reggae into a maranga.
-bill kenny
No comments:
Post a Comment