I lost my ipod so, while working out at the club, I listened to the radio on my original Sony Walkman. The back fell off that a while ago. The battery keeps falling out. But I found one in the back of my locker that still had some juice. Consequently I heard a cut off a new album by Stevie Miller. I couldn’t believe it. Maybe the guy needs some money. The cut was a dance tune and the lyrics ran partially and something like (this is not a direct quotation):
Don’t worry if you can’t find someone to dance
Just get up and shake your (Oh, no, Stevie!) pants.
Pants! My ass. That’s either a desperate or very lazy rhyme.
Followed closely by something like:
Just reach out and grab ahold
And squeeze till your blood runs cold.
That is not only lazy. It’s illogical. I mean blood running cold is what happens when you’re about to die.
Of course, Stevie also gave us the immortal:
Some people call me the space cowboy
Some call me the gangster of love
Some people call me Maurice
Cause I sing of the pomputus of love…
Actually, these are classic. But I swear there is no such word as “pomputus.” But I can understand making it up since “I sing of the pomposity of love” just doesn’t cut it.
Still these are little things compared to the downright disturbing lyrics I heard down in the locker room. They were piping in some satellite radio and I caught myself listening to the refrain three times to make sure that I was hearing what I was hearing:
I don’t care who you are
I don’t care where you’re from
I don’t cane what you did
As long as you love me…
This person is so desperate for love that he appears to have lost all his faculties. I mean is this a love song; or a song of self destruction.
It’s like I don’t care if your last name is Hitler, you come Texas, and you eat babies. As long as you love me?
This boggles the mind.
