Post by Robin on Dec 27, 2005 6:40:06 GMT -8
It's not really a ballad, but from the perspective it's written from, you need everything to try and get what you need. It's kind of an odd piece, and, like a lot of my stuff, it's written from the perspective of a man (which I am not,) and in this case, an adult man who was recently divorced and is in a custody battle over his son with his wife. He wants her back.
Okay, I modified this. I took out the corny love ballad bit every other stanza, replacing it with something that I thought fit it based on the content in the stanza. Tell me if the lyposuction worked. If it didn't, it's back to the cutting board.
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It’s a corny love ballad that I wrote to you
And hid in your glove compartment,
Right there next to ‘The Best of Barry Manilow,’
So that when you were driving to work,
You would find it when you got out your CD
And listened to our song,
Bobbing your head and swaying your torso,
Jamming to that Essential Manilow.
I wrote it to you, and only to you
For you to read in your car,
Taking your mind off the road on the way to work,
So that before you lose your eyesight,
We can dance one more time together,
And be just like Elton John.
So that we can saw inside your head
And see what makes you tick.
It’s a corny love ballad that I wrote to you,
Crouched behind the scenes
At our son’s drama class theater room.
I heard him talking about his latest squeeze,
And it got me thinking about Stephan Jenkins and Charlize Theron,
And I didn’t want to be them.
I wanted to be Stephan and Vanessa.
I wanted to be with you.
I listened to Queen as I wrote it to you,
Staying up late in my room
And trying to figure out how to win this custody battle.
Hearing our son blast Eminem from his headphones
All the way from his room to mine,
And it got me thinking about how he was destroying his hearing,
And I didn’t want him to be me.
I wanted him to hear his squeeze when she talked to him.
I wanted him to be Lear.
It’s a corny love ballad that I wrote to you,
Trying to win you back
And trying to figure out exactly when I fell behind the times.
Wondering how I would get new women if you left forever
And took our son all the way to Mississippi,
And it got me thinking that Mississippi was where we met,
And I didn’t want to be me.
I wanted to be one of those kids who were alright in Mississippi.
I wanted to be Charlie Mars.
Okay, I modified this. I took out the corny love ballad bit every other stanza, replacing it with something that I thought fit it based on the content in the stanza. Tell me if the lyposuction worked. If it didn't, it's back to the cutting board.
------
It’s a corny love ballad that I wrote to you
And hid in your glove compartment,
Right there next to ‘The Best of Barry Manilow,’
So that when you were driving to work,
You would find it when you got out your CD
And listened to our song,
Bobbing your head and swaying your torso,
Jamming to that Essential Manilow.
I wrote it to you, and only to you
For you to read in your car,
Taking your mind off the road on the way to work,
So that before you lose your eyesight,
We can dance one more time together,
And be just like Elton John.
So that we can saw inside your head
And see what makes you tick.
It’s a corny love ballad that I wrote to you,
Crouched behind the scenes
At our son’s drama class theater room.
I heard him talking about his latest squeeze,
And it got me thinking about Stephan Jenkins and Charlize Theron,
And I didn’t want to be them.
I wanted to be Stephan and Vanessa.
I wanted to be with you.
I listened to Queen as I wrote it to you,
Staying up late in my room
And trying to figure out how to win this custody battle.
Hearing our son blast Eminem from his headphones
All the way from his room to mine,
And it got me thinking about how he was destroying his hearing,
And I didn’t want him to be me.
I wanted him to hear his squeeze when she talked to him.
I wanted him to be Lear.
It’s a corny love ballad that I wrote to you,
Trying to win you back
And trying to figure out exactly when I fell behind the times.
Wondering how I would get new women if you left forever
And took our son all the way to Mississippi,
And it got me thinking that Mississippi was where we met,
And I didn’t want to be me.
I wanted to be one of those kids who were alright in Mississippi.
I wanted to be Charlie Mars.