Tag Archives: lyrics

All Stand Back I’m ‘Bout to Dance

suits

Yeah, not really.  Sorry to get you all excited for no reason.   It’s just that I’ve been watching many episodes of the tv show Suits on Netflix and the theme song is now solidly embedded in my brain.  The lyrics are great.  I think it’s all about working all your life for money, and more money, and never enough money.  And while you’re making all that money you never have time to enjoy all the things you’re making the money to enjoy.  This could be all wrong, but it’s a show about lawyers who deal with millions of dollars in suits while wearing suits, and I must think it’s good because I’m halfway through season three.

Anyway, good song for a Monday morning for all you people out there doing the greenback boogie.

 

Greenback Boogie by Ima Robot 

See the money wanna stay, for your meal

Get another piece of pie, for your wife

Everybody wanna know, how it feel

Everybody wanna see, what it’s like

Baby wanna be a queen, well alright

We all deserve the finer things, in this life … …

So working on a little job, in the night

It’s forty dollars an hour when I, see the light

The boss say you got a little time, and oh my

He’ll be working in a small box, till he die

Me, I gotta be free, all my life

I want a little cream cheese, in my pie
Alright…
Yeah! I’ll step back, while you go dance

The greenback boogie Mother f*ing boogie

Now I’m putting on a big wig, walking hard

Hanging with them big pigs, all them dogs

Got me a couple ideas, straight from God

I want a bean pie Order me a bean pie

I’ll even eat a bean pie, I don’t mind

Me and Missy is so very busy busy making money
Alright…

All step back, I’m ’bout to dance The greenback boogie

The greenback boogie Boogie now for me … … …

Say, it’s far better, when you give it away

It’s called the greenback boogie What people don’t say,

I say  It’s better, when you give it away It’s called the greenback boogie

Don’t give it away now, I say It’s better, when you give it away

It’s called the greenback boogie Don’t give it away now, I say

See the money wanna stay, for your meal

I’ll say it’s gonna put some love, in your life

Don’t you really wanna know, how it feel?

Everybody wanna see, what it’s like

Babe you wanna be inside, it ain’t lies

We all know there’s better things in this life

Yes I’ll step out, on your expense

Doin’ the greenback boogie Mother f*ing boogie

Boogie oogie oogie Greenback Boogie
Come on back to paradise Come on back to paradise Come on back to paradise Come on back to… Come on back to… Come on back to paradise Come on back to paradise Come on back to paradise Come on back to… Come on back to…

It’s the greenback boogie It’s the greenback boogie Don’t give it away now Don’t give it away now, I say
It’s better, when you greenback boogie Well don’t give it away Well don’t give it away, I say
It’s better… It’s the greenback boogie Don’t give it away…

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Dancing In The Moonlight

dancing in the moonlight
dancing in the moonlight (Photo credit: AlicePopkorn)

Daily Prompt:  The Full Moon -When the full moon happens, you turn into a person who’s the opposite of who you normally are.  Show us the new you.

The new me, under the light of the full moon, will be dancing her little heart out with beauty and grace.  (The old me is a terrible and awkward dancer with heavy duck feet and a clumsy body which bumps into things and knocks them over.)

I found this picture of opposite me, wearing a fluffy white dress, on a pedestal, taking a breather from all that manic prancing around in the middle of the night.  And still smiling even though my bare feet are wet from the dewy grass and I have no idea how I’m going to get down from there.

It appears that moonlight also makes one young and gorgeous with great hair.  Wow.  That’s better than the magic of candle light, hey?  Get out there in that moonlight, people!

To quote some lovely moony lyrics from King Harvest –

When the moon is big and bright, it’s a supernatural delight

Everybody here is out of sight, they don’t bark and they don’t bite

They keep things loose, they keep it light, it’s such a fine and natural sight

You can’t dance and stay uptight.

Here’s the music I’m using for my next dance under the moon.  Come and join me!  I swear I won’t bark and I won’t bite.  Beyond that, I’m not making any promises about my behaviour.  A full moon does strange things.

Into the Dark

Happy easy listening Sunday everyone.  I love this guy and his cover of the Death Cab for Cutie song.  Beautiful lyrics, beautiful voice.

“I Will Follow You Into The Dark”

Love of mine some day you will die
But I’ll be close behind
I’ll follow you into the dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
“Son fear is the heart of love”
So I never went back
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It’s nothing to cry about ’cause we’ll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the No’s on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
Then I’ll follow you into the dark

Pink Shoelaces

Pink Shoelaces
Pink Shoelaces (Photo credit: CraigSnedeker)

This morning I “Liked” a page on Facebook called Groovy Reflections.  “Peace, Love Grooviness. Groovy Reflections™ is dedicated to the celebration of life and song. Our greatest wish is that everyone can find peace in their lives and in their hearts.” 

Well, how in the world could I NOT like that?

Next thing I know there’s a link on my news feed for this video by Dodie Stevens who celebrates her 67th birthday today.  Happy Birthday Dodie!  If you don’t know who Dodie Stevens is, you are about to find out.  I don’t remember ever hearing her name before (although I’m sure I must have) but I KNOW ALL THE WORDS TO THIS SONG!  Isn’t the memory a strange and wonderful thing.

Now I’ve got a guy and his name is Dooley He’s my guy and I love him truly He’s not good lookin’, heaven knows But I’m wild about his crazy clothes

He wears tan shoes with pink shoelaces A polka dot vest and man, oh, man Tan shoes with pink shoelaces And a big Panama with a purple hat band

He takes me deep-sea fishing in a submarine We go to drive-in movies in a limousine He’s got a whirly-birdy and a 12-foot yacht Ah, but that’s not all he’s got

He’s got tan shoes with pink shoelaces A polka dot vest and man, oh, man Tan shoes with pink shoelaces And a big Panama with a purple hat band

Now Dooley had a feelin’ we were goin’ to war So he went out and enlisted in a fightin’ corps But he landed in the brig for raisin’ such a storm When they tried to put him in a uniform

He wanted tan shoes with pink shoelaces A polka dot vest and man, oh, man He wanted tan shoes with pink shoelaces And a big Panama with a purple hat band

Now one day Dooley started feelin’ sick And he decided that he better make his will out quick He said “Just before the angels come to carry me I want it down in writin’ how to bury me.”

Wearin’ tan shoes with pink shoelaces A polka dot vest and man, oh, man Give me tan shoes with pink shoelaces And a big Panama with a purple hat band

My musical tastes are so stuck in the 60’s and 70’s it’s kind of scary.  But how amazingly delightful is this, to see Dodie Stevens some 40 years later, still looking and sounding great.

Obviously I’m enjoying a wonderful, peaceful, lazy, do-nothing kind of Sunday afternoon.  Hope you are too.

Sunday Morning, Praise the Dawning

My morning has been spent catching up on stuff.  I don’t feel like being any more specific than that because it’s Sunday morning and Sundays are made for being vague and brain-dead.  It’s a new rule I made up just now.  My best rules are spur of the moment nonsense meant to rationalize whatever I’m up to.  Or not up to.  So feel free to borrow them, break them, forget them, or adhere to them strictly.  I’m pretty open on that.

Yesterday morning I drove W to the airport (five o’clock in the morning…here am I…driving out to the airport, wishing I could fly….) (apologies to Leann Rimes and the song Blue). I have discovered that making up my own song lyrics is a great way to stay awake while driving.  But only when there’s no passengers involved in the creative process.

W is off to Ontario once again, this time on a rather sad mission, to wrap up his responsibilities for his brother who left this world quietly on January 3rd.   He fought the good fight, but it was a long and tiring one and I’m sad but thankful he was able to give it up at last. I truly believe he is in a better place now.

We were talking on the way out there about how you get to an age where the people you know and love start leaving this world on a rather regular basis.  I guess we’ve reached that age.  I don’t mean to sound callous or uncaring, but I remember whenever I talked to my mom and she’d rhyme off a list of all the people she knew who had passed away recently I’d get annoyed.  I suppose it’s a necessary evil of living so long yourself, but I found it an uncomfortable subject.  Maybe I need to get used to it.  The alternative I suppose is to not be around myself to witness these sad events.

So I’m on my own again for a couple of weeks, and the first thing I did to celebrate that was to blow up the microwave.  There is something about me and microwaves that defies compatibility.  I really thought this one was a keeper, but there you go.  It did last longer than its predecessors so that’s something.  Although not much to brag about I suppose.

There are still things to be grateful for, although having to buy yet another appliance of indeterminate life span is maybe not one of them.  The weather is mild, it is gently snowing, the house is warm and quiet.  My neighbor is shovelling our driveway.  How incredibly thoughtful and kind that is.  This insane cold bug I caught days and days ago seems to finally be loosening its grip on me.  I must say I will miss the sexy deep singing voice that came with it, but not the breathy nasal part or the part where I cough up my lungs between verses.

Here’s a Sunday morning song and a virtual drive in the snow.  I don’t really get the lyrics to this one, but then nobody really gets mine either.  So, watch out, the world’s behind you.  Maybe that means nothing at all.

Sunday morning
praise the dawning
It’s just a restless feeling by my side
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It’s just the wasted years so close behind
Watch out the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all

Sunday morning
And I’m falling
I’ve got a feeling I don’t want to know
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It’s all the streets you crossed, not so long ago
Watch out the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all

Is That All There Is, My Friends?

“I remember when I was a very little girl, our house caught on fire. I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face as he gathered me up in his arms and raced through the burning building out to the pavement. I stood there shivering in my pajamas and watched the whole world go up in flames. And when it was all over I said to myself, “Is that all there is to a fire?”

Is that all there is, is that all there is? If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing Let’s break out the booze and have a ball If that’s all there is.

“And when I was 12 years old, my father took me to the circus, the greatest show on earth. There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads. And as I sat there watching the marvelous spectacle I had the feeling that something was missing. I don’t know what, but when it was over, I said to myself, “Is that all there is to a circus?”

Is that all there is, is that all there is? If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing Let’s break out the booze and have a ball If that’s all there is.

“Then I fell in love, head over heels in love, with the most wonderful boy in the world. We would take long walks by the river or just sit for hours gazing into each other’s eyes. We were so very much in love. Then one day, he went away. And I thought I’d die — but I didn’t.  And when I didn’t I said to myself, “Is that all there is to love?”

Is that all there is, is that all there is? If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing….

“I know what you must be saying to yourselves. If that’s the way she feels about it why doesn’t she just end it all? Oh, no. Not me. I’m in no hurry for that final disappointment. For I know just as well as I’m standing here talking to you, when that final moment comes and I’m breathing my last breath, I’ll be saying to myself…”

Is that all there is, is that all there is? If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing Let’s break out the booze and have a ball If that’s all there is.

THIS IS POST NUMBER 1100 FOR ME.  NOPE, THAT’S NOT ALL THERE IS…..

Rain and Lilacs

Lilacs
Lilacs (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Is it too late to be bothered fixing up flower beds for this year?  (Please say yes.) The tiger lilies and the dogwood thrive despite my neglect but some other plants are looking dejected and thirsty and mostly dead.  In a previous life I must have had gardeners.  My ambition gets stuck in neutral and all I want to do is big fat nothing when I get home from work and just looking at the yard makes me tired.

But it’s a mercifully short work day today and I’m hoping to get more accomplished than sleeping through the entire afternoon, tempting as that might sound.

The rain has rained itself out for now, the lilacs next door are blooming and the breeze is blowing their delightful scent through my window.  Now there’s something you can’t buy in a spray bottle.

This song has been rolling around in my head this morning and I can’t seem to get rid of it.  Don’t you kind of hate it when that happens?  There’s no real cure, but sharing seems to ease the pain.

So there you go – it’s all yours now. Complete with lyrics so you can sing along.  You’re welcome.

Music for the Road

The best type of music to play while driving is something you can sing along to at the top of your lungs. It may not be pretty, but it will definitely keep you awake and your mind off those road trip snacks which are almost impossible to open with one hand and get crumbs all over the upholstery and down your neck. Belting out those vocals is hands-free. And relatively safe, unless you get totally carried away by your own incredible talent.

It’s a definite plus to know all the words. Or at the very least, be able to make them up as you go along. Hit those high notes! Or not. Who cares? Nobody can hear you. Practice those latent harmonizing skills. Throw in some crazy background vocals. Do you stare at other drivers at a stop light? Of course you don’t – so nobody is staring at you either and there’s absolutely no need to interrupt your own brilliant performance by humming while pretending you’re not.

The music I remember best is what I listened to in my teens. So I tune into a radio station that plays the golden oldies; perfect for this golden oldie. Hearing myself get the lyrics right is kind of astonishing; sort of like when I’m playing Trivial Pursuit and the right answers seem to pop into my brain without any effort at all. (Okay, I admit that happens RARELY, but it does happen.) I don’t know why I know all the words to every Lovin’ Spoonful song ever written but it is what it is and I’ve resigned myself to the fact.

Sharing my dubious ‘talents’ with the rest of the world would probably be mortifying, for everyone. My car acts like a little sound proof box on wheels. I can crank up the volume and turn up the bass and suddenly I sound amazing. Passengers, unfortunately, seem to ruin the acoustics and curb the enthusiasm somehow. Best to do this on your own. And if it’s a long trip, think up some plausible reasons for your croaky hoarse throat before you reach your final destination. Damned air conditioning or something like that.

I’ve tried audio books, talk shows with phone-in participation, classical stations and easy listening – they all lull me to sleep. Whereas my brilliant one woman concerts keep me focused and alert. Plus they’re funny as hell. I’m almost sorry you can’t share them with me, but keeping them private is probably for the best.

Poor radio reception? No problem. Five cd’s of Rod Stewart singing the American standards along with one jumbo pack of red licorice (no crumbs) and I’m set. You’d be surprised at how fast those deafening miles fly by.

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Table Talk and Some Questionable Lyrics

It’s been another long summer, living alone, trying to entertain myself.  Not that W. is that great an entertainer, but at least when he’s around I have a reason for talking out loud.  Unlike now.  I sometimes talk to my fish, but who knows if he hears anything from under water.  Maybe he reads lips. And I sometimes make disparaging remarks to my computers, which up to this point in time refuse to converse with each other.  They both want their own home groups, and neither will include the other.  Obviously, there’s some little thing I’m missing and they don’t read lips either.

Chapters, how do I love thee?  You reward me with little gems just for showing up and wandering around.  “Table Topics” is an all plexiglass lidded cube full of square cards.  Each card has a topic on it.  In a sane household the family would sit down for dinner, a card would be drawn, the topic read, and the various answers discussed in a lively and delightful manner.  Is ‘sane household’ an oxymoron?  Probably.

Here’s my plan.  On the days when Plinky “plonks” (i.e. asks something infuriatingly stupid) I’m going to draw a card from the box and blog about that!  My computer is on a table, so it should all work out.

what’s

the most beautiful

drive you’ve

ever taken

This is how the cards throw a topic at you.  They’re not big on capital letters or punctuation, so I find myself  imagining a monotone robot type voice getting the idea out there but not caring in the least what your answer is or even if you have one.  ….next…..card……please…..

Nope, I promised myself I’d answer whatever came up, no matter what.  So the most beautiful drive I’ve ever taken has to be the one through the Atlantic provinces last fall with my sister, her husband, and W.  And all the stops along the way, of course.  The rocks, the sand, the fierce winds, the ocean’s roar, beautifully offset by the flaming fall colors.

I think it was when we were leaving Hopewell Rocks that we put one of our new cd’s on and were listening to Paddy Lay Back, and other pieces of uniquely maritime music;  ballads and reels about drunken sailors and phantom ships and rolling home and sailing away.

‘Twas a cold and dreary morning in December (December)
All of me money, it was spent, (Spent, spent)
Where it went to, Lord, I can’t remember (Remember)
So down to the shipping office I went (Went, went!)

Paddy lay back, (Paddy lay back!)
Take in the slack,  (Take in the slack)                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           Take a turn around the capstan, Heave a pawl! (Heave a pawl)
About ship’s stations, boys, be handy (Be handy!)
We’re bound for Valipariso ’round the Horn!

That day there was a great demand for sailors,
For the colonies, for ‘Frisco and for France.
So I shipped aboard a limey barque, the Hotspur,
An’ got paralytic drunk on my advance.

Now I joined her on a cold December mornin’,
A-frappin’ o’ me flippers to keep me warm,
With the south cone a-hoisted as a warnin’,
To stand by the comin’ of a storm.

Now some of our fellers had been drinkin’,
An’ I meself was heavy on the booze.
An’ I was on me ol’ sea-chest a’ thinkin’
I’d turn into me bunk an’ have a snooze.

I woke up in the mornin’ sick an’ sore,
I knew I was outward bound again;
I hears a voice a-bawlin’ at the door,
“Lay aft, ye sods, an’ answer to yer names.”

‘Twas on the quarterdeck where I first saw ’em.
Such an ugly bunch I never seen before,
For there was a bum and stiff from every quarter,
(For the captain had shipped a shanghai crew of Dutchmen)
An’ it made me poor ol’ heart feel sick and sore.

There was Spaniards an’ Dutchmen an’ Rooshians,
An’ Johnny Crapoos jist acrost from France.
An’ most of them could speak no word of English,
But answered to the name of `Month’s Advance!’

I wisht I was in the “Jolly Sailor,”
Along with Irish Kate a-drinkin’ beer,
An’ then I thought what jolly chaps were sailors,
An’ with me flipper I wiped away a tear.

I knew that in me box I had a bottle,
By the boardin’-master ’twas put there;
An’ I wanted something for to wet me throttle,
Somethin’ for to drive away dull care.

So down upon me knees I went like thunder,
Put me hand into the bottom o’ the box,
An’ what wuz me great surprise an’ wonder,
Found only a bottle o’ medicine for the pox.

I felt that I should skip an’ join another,
‘Twas plain that I had joined a lousy bitch;
But the chances wuz that I might join a worser,
An’ we might git through the voyage without a hitch.

I axed the mate a-which a-watch was mine-O,
Says he, “I’ll soon pick out a-which is which,”
An’ he blowed me down an’ kicked me hard a stern-O,
Callin’ me a lousy, dirty son o’ a bitch.

Now we singled up an’ got the tugs alongside,
They towed us through the locks an’ out to sea;
With half the crew a-pukin’ o’er the ship’s side,
An’ the bloody fun that started sickened me.

Although me poor ol’ head wuz all a-jumpin’,
We had to loose her rags the followin’ morn;
I dream the boardin’-master I was thumpin’,
When I found out he’d sent me around the Horn.

I swore I would become a beachie-comber,
An’ niver go to sea no ruddy more;
For niver did I want to be a roamer,
I’d shanghai the boardin’-master an’ stay ashore.

But when we got to bully ol’ Vallaparaiser,
In the Bay we dropped our mudhook far from shore;
The Ol’ Man he refused ter let us raise ‘er,
An’ he stopped the boardin’-masters comin’ aboard.

I quickly made me mind up that I’d jump ‘er,
I’d leave the beggar an’ git a job ashore;
I swum across the Bay an’ went an’ left ‘er,
An’ in the English Bar I found a whore.

But Jimmy the Wop he knew a thing or two, sir,
An’ soon he’d shipped me outward bound again;
On a Limey to the Chinchas for guanner,
An’ soon wuz I a-roarin’ this refrain.

So there was I once more again at sea, boys,
The same ol’ ruddy business o’er again.
Oh, stamp the caps’n round an’ make some noise, boys,
An’ sing again this dear ol’ sweet refrain.

The beauty of these songs is that they go on forever and you can sing along to the refrain between every silly verse,  to the delight of youself and your sister and the dismay of your spouses who are trying to drive and navigate in the front seat.  Awesome drive.  Wish that IT could have gone on forever too.

La la la…Pied Piper House!

Gawd I love to google.  Here’s a great hint at how ancient I am.  This morning the Pied Piper theme song would not leave my poor brain in peace.  It’s from a tv show from the 60’s, which means I have a ridiculously weird memory.  Plus there’s the added fact that even then I was way too old to be watching such nonsense, but the CBC did not give us a lot of scintillating choices and we got only one channel.  So we watched whatever popped up on the screen and filed it all away in the dark recesses of our brains only to have it come screaming to the forefront one hot summer day fifty years later in an attempt to drive us batshit crazy.   The Animal Farm segment was my favourite with actual live animals supposedly narrating stories from miniature barnyard sets, featuring Rupert the Rat, Bessie the Bunny, Kookie the Kitten, Harriet Hen, Freddie Frog, Calvin Racoon and Charlotte Cow.  And yes, I googled their names for the sake of accuracy.

And also the words to the song.  So that I could stop merely humming the bits where the lyrics eluded me.

Oooooohhhhh……Come with me, come and see

All the wonders there will be

In my stories, in  my songs

And everything where fun belongs.

We’ll meet heroes, giants bold

Visit lands both hot and cold

Have magic tricks to shiver your skin,

Laughs galore with animals in

Our world of fun – Pied Piper House!

(repeat ad nauseam in a deep booming opera type manner)

There he is!!  Remember him??  He always wore that dumb hat with the stupid fake flower!  Man, they just don’t make television programs like that anymore.  Come with me, come and see, bang my head against a tree.  I may have to resort to such extreme measures to free my mind of this torturous little ditty.