It's All Been Done

I picked up the Barenaked Ladies' greatest hits CD on Mother's Day (the lazy woman's way out, I know--I should've read reviews and figured out which of their releases to buy instead, but...) and this song, originally on an album with the same title, really caught my ear. Perhaps the lyrics don't seem as engaging or clever without the music, but they immediately gave me an idea for a decidedly paranormal romance! See if they don't do the same for you.

It's All Been Done
by Steven Page and Ed Robertson, copyright 1999

I met you before the fall of Rome
And I begged you to let me take you home
You were wrong, I was right
You said goodbye, I said goodnight

It's all been done
It's all been done
It's all been done before

I knew you before the west was won
And I heard you say the past was much more fun
You go your way, I go mine
But I'll see you next time

It's all been done
It's all been done
It's all been done before

And if I put my fingers here,
And if I say "I love you, dear"
And if I play the same three chords
Will you just yawn and say

It's all been done
It's all been done
It's all been done before

Alone and bored on a thirtieth-century night
Will I see you on The Price Is Right?
Will I cry? Will I smile?
As you run down the aisle

It's all been done
It's all been done
It's all been done before

Nipple to the Bottle

I think the album this song appears on, Living My Life, may be the best record hardly anyone owns. I gather it was more popular in the U.K. than here in the States. If it weren't for my husband, I never would have heard it, either. Until he introduced me to this album, all I knew about Grace Jones was that she was very tall, had very short hair, and possessed one great set of cheekbones.

This record opened my eyes, to say the least. (And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to quote these lyrics to various people in my life!)

Nipple to the Bottle
by Grace Jones and Sly Dunbar, copyright 1982.

Colour and warmth came into your world
It makes me crazy
When you don't get what you want
You scream and you shout
You're still a baby

Don't give me a line
Keep the lid on the bottle this time
I'm still a lady
I won't do it tonight
I won't do it tonight
No way, baby

I won't give in and I won't feel guilty
Rant and rave to manipulate me
From the nipple to the bottle
Never satisfied
From the nipple to the bottle
Now the cow must die

Power and wealth surrendering myself
It ain't easy
Embarassing my store by opening up my door
When it's breezy
You showed me your force
Exaggerated stamina and energy

No place for that
No place for that
It's not that easy

Rant and rave to manipulate me
From the nipple to the bottl
Never satisfied
From the nipple to the bottle
Now the cow must die.

You ain't gonna get it
I ain't gonna give it
You ain't gonna get it
I ain't gonna give it

If I don't give it, how you gonna get it?
I ain't gonna give it, you ain't gonna get it,
If I don't give it, how you gonna get it? (fade)

The Denial Twist

First things first. Things looked up a little bit yesterday afternoon, because I managed to squeak out about 500 words for the first time in days. And it felt SOOOOOO good. Yeah, baby, this is why I write!

Today's lyrics come from Jack White of White Stripes. Seems to me that there's no middle ground on White Stripes. Either you love them or you hate them. Personally, I love them. And part of the reason I love them is because the lyrics are often just so darned clever.

The Denial Twist
by Jack White, copyright 2005

If you think that a kiss is all in the lips
C'mon, you got it all wrong, man
And if you think that a dance was all in the hips
Oh well, then do the twist
If you think holding hands is all in the fingers
Grasp hold of the soul where the memory lingers and
Make sure to never do it with the singer
'Cause he'll tell everyone in the world
What he was thinking about the girl
Yeah, what he's thinking about the girl, oh

A lot of people get confused and they bruise
Real easy when it comes to love
They start putting on their shoes and walking out
And singing "Boy, I think I had enough"
Just because she makes a big rumpus
She don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy
Take a tip and do yourself a little service
Take a mountain turn it into a mole
Just by playing a different role
Yeah, by playing a different role, oh

The boat, ya you know she's rockin' it
And the truth, well ya know there's no stoppin' it
The boat, ya you know she's still rockin' it
The truth, well you know there's no stoppin' it

So what, somebody left you in a rut
And wants to be the one who's in control?
But the feeling that you're under can really make you wonder
How the hell she can be so cold
So now you're mad, denying the truth
And it's hidden in the wisdom in the back of your tooth
Ya need ta spit it out in a telephone booth
While ya call everyone that you know, and ask 'em
Where do you think she goes?
Oh yeah, where d'ya s'pose she goes, oh?

The truth, well you know there's no stoppin' it
And the boat well ya know she's still rockin' it
The boat ya you know she's still rockin' it
And the truth ya you know there's no stoppin' it

You recognize with your back in the back
That it's colder when she rocks the boat
But it's the cause hittin' on the Cardinal Laws
'Bout the proper place to hang her coat
So to you, the truth is still hidden
And the soul plays the role of a lost little kitten but
You should know that the doctors weren't kiddin'
She's been singing it all along
But you were hearin' a different song
Yeah, you were hearin' a different song
But you were hearin' a different song

Man Out of Time

I have to say, this one pretty well speaks for itself (although I can't believe it's taken me this many weeks into Lyric Thursday to get to Elvis Costello--the man's a freakin' poetic genius!). If you're looking for the song itself, it's on the classic 1982 release, Imperial Bedroom.

Man Out of Time
by Elvis Costello, copyright 1982

So this is where he came to hide
When he ran from you
In a private detective's overcoat
And dirty dead man's shoes

The pretty things of Knightsbridge
Lying for a minister of state
Is a far cry from the nod and wink
Here at traitor's gate
'Cause the high heel he used to be has been ground down
And he listens for the footsteps that would follow him around

To murder my love is a crime
But will you still love
A man out of time

There's a tuppeny hapenny millionaire
Looking for a fourpenny one
With a tight grip on the short hairs
Of the public imagination

But for his private wife and kids somehow
Real life becomes a rumour
Days of dutch courage
Just three French letters and a German sense of humour
He's got a mind like a sewer and a heart like a fridge
He stands to be insulted and he pays for the privilege

To murder my love is a crime
But will you still love
A man out of time

The biggest wheels of industry
Retire sharp and short
And the after dinner overtures
Are nothing but an after thought

Somebody's creeping in the kitchen
There's a reputation to be made
Whose nerves are always on a knife's edge
Who's up late polishing the blade
Love is always scarpering or cowering or fawning
You drink yourself insensitive and hate yourself in the morning

To murder my love is a crime
But will you still love
A man out of time

Athena

Yes, this post is a day late. I forgot yesterday. Pretend it's Thursday. Hey, it's like getting an extra day this week!

I'm back to mining oldies this week. Maybe I love this particular song by The Who so much because it has a good Classical reference, but I'm sure that's not the only reason. Mostly, I think I love it because a) the tune is absolutely infectious and b) the lyrics are so simultaneously bizarre and poetic, they give me serious writer envy. And I do wonder if this song isn't the origin of the expression "the bomb" as in, "You're the bomb." Anyone?

Athena
The Who, copyright 1982

Athena, I had no idea how much I'd need her
In peaceful times I hold her close and I feed her
My heart starts palpitating when I think my guess was wrong
But I think I'll get along
She's just a girl - she's a bomb

Athena, all I ever want to do is please her
My life has been so settled and she's the reason
Just one word from her and my troubles are long gone
But I think I'll get along

She's just a girl - she's a bomb
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
She's just a girl

Athena, my heart felt like a shattered glass in an acid bath
I felt like one of those flattened ants you find on a crazy path
I'd of topped myself to give her time she didn't need to ask
Was I a suicidal psychopath?
She's just a girl - she's a bomb

Consumed, there was a beautiful white horse I saw on a dream stage
He had a snake the size of a sewer pipe living in his rib cage
I felt like a pickled priest who was being flambed
You got me requisitioned, blondie
She's just a girl - she's a bomb

I'm happy, I'm ecstatic
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
She's just a girl

Look into the face of a child
Measure how long you smiled
Before the memory claimed
How long would children remain
How long would children remain

Athena, you picked me up by my lapels and screamed "leave her"
It felt like waking up in heaven on an empty meter
And now you're stuck with a castrated leader
And I hate the creep, I didn't mean that
She's a bomb
I just said it
She's a bomb
I didn't mean it, please
She's a bomb

Athena, I had no idea how much I need her
My life has been so settled and she's the reason
Just one word from her and my troubles are long gone
But I get along
She's just a girl, she's a bomb
She's just a girl, she's a bomb

Jimmy Olsen's Blues

This just happened to be the song that came up on the iPod on shuffle just now, and I always get a kick out of the lyrics. I love twists on familiar pop culture. Plus, I have to admit that I almost never sympathize with the superhero.

Jimmy Olsen's Blues
by Spin Doctors, copyright 1991

I don't think I can handle this
A cloudy day in Metropolis
I think I'll talk to my analyst
I got it so bad for this little journalist
It drives me up the wall and through the roof
Lois and Clark in a telephone booth
I think I'm going out of my brain
I got it so bad for little miss Lois Lane

Chorus:
Oh, Lois Lane, please put me in your plan
Yeah, Lois Lane, you don't need no Superman
Come on downtown and stay with me tonight
I got a pocket full of kryptonite

He's leaping buildings in a single bound
And I'm reading Shakespeare in my place downtown
Come on downtown and make love to me
I'm Jimmy Olsen, not a titan, you see
He's faster than a bullet, stronger than a train
He's the one who got lucky - got a cape around miss Lois Lane
I can't believe my dilemma is realI'm competing with the man of steel

(Chorus)

I don't think I can handle this
A cloudy day in Metropolis
I think I'll talk to my analyst
I got it so bad for this little journalist

(Chorus)

Bank Job

So, this weeks Lyric Thursday is courtesy of the Barenaked Ladies' 2006 release, Barenaked Ladies Are Me. I luuuuuurve this album! It's got maybe three songs I skip over because I'm not crazy about them, but with 13 tracks, that's a high signal-to-noise ratio. (I see the second half, Barenaked Ladies Are Men, was released in February. Duly added to my Amazon shopping cart!)

I love the lyrics to this song in particular because I find them so funny. There is a particular point (which I won't give away) where EVERYONE I've ever shared this song with laughs. Until that point, they kind of furrow their brows with concern. But after that, they're always sold!

Bank Job
Steven Page and Ed Robertson, copyright 2006

It was an upset in two minutes flat
We were back on the freeway, foot to the mat
I can't understand it; we had it down pat
It's very upsetting, could we leave it at that?

We all had positions; we each had a role
We'd over-rehearsed it; we had full control
They can't teach you acting, it's there in your soul
It's the same with a bank job, and each thing we stole

So I don't need attitude
Cause you knew just what to do
We all did our best now
We all need to rest now
Leave me alone
Wait by the phone

I was the driver; you ran the show
You had the last word, the go or no go
I knew every laneway in Ontario
But it's not what you're sure of, it's what you don't know

It should have been filled with the usual ones
Throwing their cash into mutual funds
We all had our ski masks and sawed-off shotguns
But how do you plan for a bank full of nuns?

Well, I guess we panicked - we all have taboos
And they were like zebras; they had us confused
We should be in condos with oceanfront views
Instead we're most-wanted on the six o'clock news

So I don't need attitude
Cause you knew just what to do
We all did our best now
We all need to rest now
Leave me alone
And wait by the phone

Inside the police car you tried to explain
Your crisis of conscience; the voice in your brain
And now that the whole thing has gone down the drain
I think we all know who should shoulder the blame

Cause you made a choice there, almost sublime
I'm all for compassion, just not on my dime
You looked like an amateur, and that's the real crime
So I'll take a walk now, and you do the time

And I don't need attitude
Cause you knew just what to do
We all did our best now
We all need to rest now
Leave me alone
There's no need to phone

We all did our best now
We all need to rest now
Leave me alone
We all did our best now
We all need to rest now
Leave me alone
Leave me alone

Cry on Demand

Today's Lyric Thursday comes from the UK band Gomez and their 2006 album, How We Operate. (That link'll get you to Amazon where you can listen to a 30-second sample of this song, which I recommend doing. )

I admit, I'd never have found this disc if I hadn't heard the band interviewed on NPR. What a shame that would have been! For Darcy's benefit, I have to mention that this album is their first on Dave Matthews' ATO label.

Originally, I was planning to post the lyrics for Barenaked Ladies' hilarious Bank Job, but that'll have to wait until next week. (I figured it was well past time to start posting lyrics from songs recorded after the end of the 20th century.) I decided to post this song instead, however, because the heroine in Going Greek is listening to it on her iPod when she meets the hero.

Cry on Demand
by Gomez*, copyright 2006

I wish I could cry on demand,
Boo Hoo, Boo Hoo
Given all these troubles on my mind,
The tears won't come out.

I've been shaking, shaking in my boots
Every time I hear my telephone ring
It can't possibly be you,
You never call,
Not since my little accident.

I didn't mean to cause any trouble
I didn't know we were so serious
Yeah, I didn't mean to burst our bubble
It can only float for so long

Now I realise, I realise they were wrong,
'cos what happens in Vegas,
Don't take very long,
To travel accross continents,
And onwards overseas,
Onto our little island,
To our city, our home,

ButI didn't mean to cause any trouble
I didn't know we were so serious
Yeah, I didn't mean to burst our bubble
It could only float for so long

Sometimes I wish, I could cry on demand
Boo Hoo, Boo Hoo
Given all these troubles on my mind,
The tears won't come out.

I didn't mean to cause any trouble
I didn't know we were so serious
Yeah, I didn't mean to burst our bubble
It could only float for so long

Sometimes I wish, I could cry on demand
Boo Hoo, Boo Hoo
Given all these troubles on my mind,
The tears won't come out.
I wish, I could cry on demand
Boo Hoo, Boo Hoo

Given all these troubles on my mind,
The tears won't come out,
The tears won't come out,
The tears won't come out

*Gomez are Ian Ball, Paul Blackburn, Tom Gray, Ben Ottewell and Olly Peacock.

Get Started, Start a Fire

This gem is from Graham Parker's 1997 release, The Mona Lisa's Sister. I freely cop to being a Graham Parker fanatic. My husband and I went to see him at a small club here in San Diego back in the mid-90s. It was just him and a guitar. It was easily the best concert I have ever seen. Hands down.

I don't know exactly what it is about these lyrics that so delights me. Maybe it's the juxtaposition of the Mona Lisa, Marilyn Monroe, and Joan of Arc. Whatever it is, I hope you enjoy them!

Get Started, Start a Fire
by Graham Parker, copyright 1997

The Mona Lisa's sister doesn't smile
She tried to pose but only for a while
Leonardo sent her home
Since then she has lived alone
With her few belongings and a copy
Of a painting of herself unhappy
She is going to burn it when she's ready

Chorus: Get started, start a fire

Marilyn was lying all alone
With an empty bottle by the phone
Kennedy was not around
She was cold when she was found
But she'd gone where goddesses are sleeping
Where the molten tongues of flame are leaping
Or where the angel's hearts are heating

Joan of Arc was burning at the stake
Somebody had made a big mistake
She had lit a cigarette
In an aiport where you get
Your fingers taken off for smoking.
Meanwhile up the road a factory's choking
The ones who killed her work there I'm not joking.

Lyric Thursday: Waves of Grain

I must be feeling more cynical than usual about truth, justice, and the American way after the Lewis Libby trial and the Walter Reed hospital scandals of the last week or two, because these are the lyrics that have been captivating me lately. Interestingly, I couldn't find these lyrics anywhere on the 'Net; I had to transcribe them myself. The song comes from Timbuk 3's Edge of Allegiance, released in 1989. I highly recomend both the song and the album. (I'm just listening to another song from it, Standard White Jesus, which includes the line, "Everyone wants to be on a postage stamp, but nobody wants to die." Freakin' awesome stuff!)

Waves of Grain
by Pat and Barbara K. MacDonald (Timbuk 3)

It was a nice clean assassination
The gunman slipped through immigration
Like the gentle wind that swept the plain
And ruffled over waves of grain

Sailing safely out of sight
On board the next connecting flight
The gunman smiled he felt no pain
So high above the waves of grain

Then someone snatched the video away
From the hands of a tourist at the gate
And soon a blast on board the plane
Sent it crashing into the waves of grain

A blown-up still told the story
Large as life in all its glory
The man’s face in the 29th frame
Appeared within the waves of grain

Now the pictures have been confiscated
The tourist was incarcerated
The drugs they gave him numbed his brain
Now all he sees are waves of grain

Now rummaging through the ravaged rubble
I wonder is it worth the trouble?
Does the slightest trace of truth remain
Running through the waves of grain?

Lyric Thursday: Sailing to Philadelphia

Not a lot of time for introductions to today's lyrics, except to say that the reason I love this song so much is that it has a basis in historical fact. Jeremiah Dixon and Charlie Mason really did come from England to the US to survey the southern boundary of Pennsylvania, thereby drawing the Mason-Dixon Line.

Sailing to Philadelphia
by Mark Knopfler, copyright 2000

I am Jeremiah Dixon
I am a Geordie Boy
A glass of wine with you, sir
And the ladies I'll enjoy
All Durham and Northumberland
Is measured up by my own hand
It was my fate from birth
To make my mark upon the earth...

He calls me Charlie Mason
A stargazer am I
It seems that I was born
To chart the evening sky
They'd cut me out for baking bread
But I had other dreams instead
This baker's boy from the west country
Would join the Royal Society...

We are sailing to Philadelphia
A world away from the coaly Tyne
Sailing to Philadelphia
To draw the line
The Mason-Dixon line

Now you're a good surveyor, Dixon
But I swear you'll make me mad
The West will kill us both
You gullible Geordie lad
You talk of liberty
How can America be free
A Geordie and a baker's boy
In the forest of the Iroquois...

Now hold your head up, Mason
See America lies there
The morning tide has raised
The capes of Delaware
Come up and feel the sun
A new morning is begun
Another day will make it clear
Why your stars should guide us here...

We are sailing to Philadelphia
A world away from the coaly Tyne
Sailing to Philadelphia
To draw the line
The Mason-Dixon line