Aw c’mon, this is hardly the only song that says “I may not be much in the brains department (or looks, or money, or…), but I love you.” For example, XTC’s “Mayor of Simpleton” is more or less an update of this.
Especially as this charming little ditty appears on the same album as “Norweigan Wood,” considered by many to be John’s subtle admission of an illicit overnight tryst.
Right up there on the self-parody board with Pat Benetar, who paired “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” on the same album with “Hell Is For Children,” a song about child abuse. :dubious:
I’m not seeing your point here.
“Hell Is For Children” is, as you note, a song about child abuse which the singer clearly comes out against.
“Hit Me With Your Best Shot” is addressed to some guy who apparently is happy with his reputation as somebody who loves and leaves them (You’re a real tough cookie with a long history/Of breaking little hearts like the one in me). And the singer is saying he won’t succeed with her because she is emotionally secure (Knock me down, it’s all in vain/I get right back on my feet again).
I think it’s clear that the song isn’t about physical abuse. I suppose you could argue that it’s just as bad if it’s about emotional or psychological abuse. But the song isn’t saying the singer will just endure the abuse. She’s saying she’s strong enough that his attempts at “negging” her won’t effect her.
^ Affect her.
Hey, it’s what we do here.
Can we at least burn his children’s laughter?
I’ve mostly just taken Yes lyrics as just another sound, not something to take a lot of meaning from.
On another note, I think that freely admitting that you shot the sheriff is not the greatest defense strategy. And if you didn’t shoot the deputy, who are you saying did it? A second shooter on the grassy knoll?
I’m surprised no one’s yet brought up this one:
I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna
And was blowing sad while Bobbi sang the blues…
The hell’d you fit a harpoon in a bandanna, Kris? And more to the point, why?
If you’re up there then you’ll perceive
That my heart’s here upon my sleeve.
If there’s one thing I don’t believe in
It’s you,
dear God.
Then why’d you write Him a six-verse diss track?
Well, if you are that averse to being with another man, John, then don’t do it. Nobody’s making you fuck guys.
Harpoon is heroin syringe.
Harpoon is also a harmonica, which makes more sense in this context.
Yes I guess I was thinking of Janis.
The one I always bring up in these kinds of threads: Your Love Is Driving Me Crazy, by Sammy Hagar.
… hot, sweet cherries on the vine …
Last time I checked, cherries grew on trees, not vines. And all that work to rhyme with “sublime,” I think it is. An awfully big word for a Sammy Hagar song.
Little known fact; there’s a typo in that line. In the original lyrics the singer was blowing Sid. Which explains why Bobbi was so upset.
Ahhhhhh. OK. That makes sense. Thank you.
The Pina Colada song kills me. The singer answers a personal ad that states: If you have half a brain.
I’m not going to advertise for half a brain.
Tom Paxton’s Morning Again:
Someone’s morning begins,
And down on the pavement the traffic is roaring,
I make more coffee and catch myself pouring one for you.
Someone’s morning begins,
The radio gives me advice with my dishes,
I’m tripping myself on the things that I wish I had done for you.
“The radio gives me advice with my dishes”? What is that, a commercial for dish washing detergent.
I changed it to "I have to get up and do all these dishes. The poor singer is so busy morning his lost love that he is unable to even do the mundane acts of every day life, and his table is covered with dirty cups and saucers.
Springsteen’s “Glory Days”, the line about his baseball-playing buddy throwing a speedball. A speedball is what killed John Belushi.
SNORT! Now I have this image of a big sweaty redneck named Sid, who must have been the driver that picked them up, looking over at Kris and saying, “Yew got a purty mouth, boy.” Gives a whole 'nother interpretation to the next line:
Rode us all the way to New Orleans. :eek:
Given the existence of rapist truckers on the Baton Rouge-to-New Orleans highway, I see why Kris felt the need for a bigass spear…
I am picturing an old and seedy-looking Sid Haig, and a very young Kris Kristofferson. 
From Slade’s Mama We’re Crazy Now
“And you tease me, and all my ladies desert me”
You’re boo-hoo’ing about some (skankadelic, if at all) alleged harem of yours?
Hm, I think I left out an “All” somewhere.
I know, this,
much, is,
TRUE
Ok ok you’re sincere, then!