If the title caught your eye, then you too remember the 70's. The Digispouse and I decided to have lunch together today at our favorite watering hole, The Olde Ship (Santa Ana location - btw, if you are in either location, this place rocks)
On the sound system, they had it tuned to a satellite radio station's Best of the 70's format. We snorted and chuckled our way through lunch with such classics as"Put Your Hand in the Hand" by Ocean that can drive someone to actually appreciate Marty Haugen and "Your Mama Don't Dance", which back in da Bronx we sang as "Your mama don't dance/'Cause your daddy ain't got no legs . . ."
The Moody Blues came on and as "Nights in White Satin" came to a close, I said to my beloved, "Bad poetry alert! Bad poetry alert!" Of course, that prompted him to recite the crap that finishes that song ("Late Lament", if you want to be precise), and we wondered how many times it had been copied on the front cover of someone's spiral bound notebook or carefully printed with permanent marker on a denim jacket. That, and the "heavy" lyrics to "Breathe" by Pink Floyd.
Of course, those weren't the only bad lyrics of the 70's. I can still recite the opening "prose" of Bowie's "Diamond Dogs" (again, if you want to be technical, "Future Legend"), and I still think how badly a rhyming dictionary was needed when ELP penned, "Everyday a little sadder/a little madder/someone get me a ladder" (that was the best they could come up with?).
But we loved those songs all the same. And, believe it or not, I finally learned today what this was actually - can you guess this opening song lyric, as I always heard it?
"I met her jissome farree queen in sinner . . ."