sometimes lyrics are bad. sometimes they are so bad they are good. sometimes they are just really bad, and that makes them hilarious. this is a place to talk about those lyrics.
email your Lyric Fail suggestions to:
mollylambert@gmail.com and tesslynch@gmail.com
we’re flirtin’ with disaster y’all, damn sure know what I mean!!!
- Molly Hatchet, “Flirtin With Disaster”
I have no fucking idea what you mean. Download my Kenny Powers mix on This Recording right now!!! 3 plus hours of double lead guitar harmonies and soundbites from the pride of Shelby, NC.
Muskrat Susie, Muskrat Sam
Do the jitterbug out in muskrat land
And they shimmy
And Sammy’s so skinny
And they whirled and they twirled and they tangoed
Singin’ and jingin’ the jango
Floatin’ like the heavens above
It looks like muskrat love
Nibbling on bacon, chewin’ on cheese
Sammy says to Susie “Honey, would you please be my missus?”
And she say yes
With her kisses
And now he’s ticklin’ her fancy
Rubbin’ her toes
Muzzle to muzzle, now anything goes
As they wriggle, and Sue starts to giggle
— Willis Alan Ramsey (covered by Captain & Tennille),Muskrat Candlelight/ Muskrat Love
Wiki reminds you that:
It features sound effects created with a synthesizer to evoke the imagined sound of muskrats courting. The single featured an “endless loop” of these sound effects created by encoding the end groove of the 45.
Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
Can analysis be worthwhile?
Is the theater really dead?
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
Youre a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation.
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.
Simon & Garkfunkel, “The Dangling Conversation”
This song is like watching The Life Aquatic on your laptop, while on the toilet, and your bathtub is a litterbox for sixteen stray cats and your rent is two months overdue.
You know that it would be untrue
You know that I would be a liar
If I was to say to you
Girl, we couldn’t get much higher
Come on baby, light my fire
Come on baby, light my fire
Try to set the night on fire
I avoided The Doors like the plague throughout high school and college, based on my instinctual dislike of overlong organ solos that aren’t Steppenwolf’s “Magic Carpet Ride.” So it wasn’t an embarrassing classic rock phobia (I’m a Deadhead) either. No, it was this lyric, wherein American poet Jim Morrison rhymes the word fire with fire. I don’t even care about further down when he says “mire.” Fire with fire. That was all it took to put me off The Doors for like 20 years. I like The Doors now. Maybe it’s because Jim Morrison sounds like a drunk Mel Tormé. Plus this song was written by Robby Krieger, who I don’t hate at all. But I still don’t like Ray Manzarek. Those organ solos fucking suck.
She flies through the back door, she’s my older sister
She throws French phrases ‘round the room
She has ice skates and legs that fit right in
She’s wicked to all the beaming dreamers
Who’ll later boast of an evening
By her fiery side
Carly Simon, “Older Sister”
As a closeted fan of the album Comin’ Around Again, it saddens me to throw this tomato of lyrics into the beautiful face of Carly Simon, especially because the very reason that this song is lyrically flawed is the reason it is so raw, so honest. Unfortunately, Carly was born with squid-like tentacles instead of legs, and as a result was never able to ice skate like all of the other girls, including her older sister, who was also a Francophile. This song was a lyrical breakthrough for Carly, as she had previously attempted to conceal her condition by wearing bellbottom jeans, and refusing to be photographed from the waist down.
