Bill Weye

Tag: Lyrics

You’re reading a collection of song lyrics I find interesting, funny, or otherwise compelling.

When you’re a diabetic in my place, everything comes back to glucose. You can’t escape it, even from songs.

You can take all the tea in China
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail right around the seven oceans
Drop it straight into the deep blue sea
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
She’s an angel of the first degree
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

Every picture tells a story, donut!
Every picture tells a story, donut!
Every picture tells a story, donut!

They Don’t Got Baseball

In honor of the first day of the season of being alive (baseball season!), here are some inspiring song lyrics from Dan Bern, a folk-rock singer who often writes about baseball (and who also has the snappy song “Tiger Woods”).

They got a million cafes just dripping with class
Cars that run for days on a gallon of gas
Six willing dames for each uptight lass
They got their beck and call, it’s like they got it all
But they don’t got
Don’t got
Don’t, don’t got

I’d trade you Rockefeller Center any day
For one square inch of the Champs Elysees
Sophia Lauren looks OK
But they can keep her
We got Wrigley and Fenway

They got Monte Carlo and Le Mans
Greek goddesses and Swedish blondes
They got the training ground for Mafia dons
It’s like they got it all, they even got rid of the Berlin Wall
But they don’t got
Don’t got
Don’t, don’t got

They got Jean Paul Sartre
We got Gary Carter
They got Umberto Eco
We got Jose Canseco
They got that guy named Zorba
We got Tommy Lasorda
They got the Ferrari
We got Harry Caray

They got the croissant we got too much starch
They got the Eiffel Tower we got the golden arch
But that first warm day at the end of March
Remember they don’t
Don’t got
Don’t, don’t got

Brick house

Here is one of my all time favorite songs; I am sure it is yours too. “Brick House” by the Commodores:

bq. Chorus:
She’s a brick — house
She’s Mighty might just lettin’ it all hang out
She’s a brick — house
That lady’s stacked and that’s a fact,
ain’t holding nothing back.
She’s a brick — house

bq. We’re together everybody knows,
this is how the story goes.
She knows she’s got everything
that a woman needs to get a man, yeah.
How can she use, the things she uses
36-24-36, what a winning hand!

bq. Chorus

bq. She’s the one, the only one,
who’s built like a amazon
The clothes she wears, the sexy ways,
make an old man wish for younger days, yeah
She knows she’s built and knows how to please
Sure enough to knock a man to his knees

bq. Chorus

bq. Shake it down, shake it down now (repeat)


This just has come to my attention. I am not really a Broadway musical type of person, but this sort of describes me. The song is called “Bill” from _Showboat_ (Music/Lyrics: Rogers and Hammerstein, 1927):

bq. I used to dream that I would discover
The perfect lover someday.
I knew I’d recognize him if ever
He came ’round my way.
I always used to fancy then
He’d be one of the god-like kind of men,
With a giant brain and a noble head,
Like the heroes bold
In the books I’ve read.
But along came Bill, who’s not the type at all.
You’d meet him on the street and never notice him.
His form, his face, his manly grace
Are not the kind that you would find in a statue.
And I can’t explain–
It’s surely not his brain that makes me thrill.
I love him because, he’s wonderful
Because he’s just my Bill.

bq. He can’t play golf or tennis or polo,
Or sing a solo, or row.
He isn’t half as handsome
As dozens of men I know.
He isn’t tall or straight or slim,
And he dresses far worse than Ted or Jim.
And I can’t explain whey he should be
Just the one, one, man in the world for me.
He’s just my Bill, and ordinary guy.
He hasn’t got a thing that I can brag about
And yet to be, upon his knee,
So comfy and roomy
Seems natural to me.
And I can’t explain–
It’s surely not his brain
That makes me thrill.
I love him because, he’s –I don’t know —
Because he’s just my Bill.

We are family

One of my fondest sports memories is from 1979 and the Pittsburgh Pirates run to win the World Series against Baltimore (which Pittsburgh won 4 games to 3). That was called the “We Are Family” season, which team captain Willie Stargell adopted as the theme song. Why? Stargell called the team, “the family;” and because, the song, written by Nile Rodgers and performed by Sister Sledge, is great, with an uplifting message, man. Here’s Willie’s explanation of the connection between the song and the team: “We won, we lived, and we enjoyed as one,” Stargell said. “We molded together dozens of different individuals into one working force. We were products of different races, were raised in different income brackets, but in the clubhouse and on the field we were one.”

Here are the lyrics to the song, “We are family”:

We are family
I got all my sisters with me
We are family
Get up ev’rybody and sing

Ev’ryone can see we’re together
As we walk on by
(FLY!) and we fly just like birds of a feather
I won’t tell no lie
(ALL!) all of the people around us they say
Can they be that close
Just let me state for the record
We’re giving love in a family dose


Living life is fun and we’ve just begun
To get our share of the world’s delights
(HIGH!) high hopes we have for the future
And our goal’s in sight
(WE!) no we don’t get depressed
Here’s what we call our golden rule
Have faith in you and the things you do
You won’t go wrong
This is our family Jewel

New Feature: great song lyrics

First great song lyric is from the self proclaimed “The Only Band That Matters” (The Clash). As an aside: how did the untitled song on London Calling, which came to be known as “Train in Vain”, become titled? I don’t know the story.

“Straight to Hell”
(The Clash)

If you can play on the fiddle
How’s about a British jig and reel?
Speaking King’s English in quotation
As railhead towns feel the steel mills rust water froze
In the generation
Clear as winter ice
This is your paradise

There ain’t no need for ya
Go straight to hell boys

Y’wanna join in a chorus
Of the Amerasian blues?
When it’s Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City
Kiddie say papa papa papa papa-san take me home
See me got photo photo
Photograph of you
Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Lemme tell ya ’bout your blood bamboo kid
It ain’t Coca-Cola it’s rice

Straight to hell
Oh Papa-san
Please take me home
Oh Papa-san
Everybody they wanna go home
So Mamma-san says

You wanna play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime U.S.A.?
In Parkland International
Hah! Junkiedom U.S.A.
Where procaine proves the purest rock man groove
and rat poison
The volatile Molatov says

Hey Chico we got a message for ya…
vamos vamos muchacho
From Alphabet City all the way A to Z, dead, head

Go straight to hell

Can you really cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants
They wanna sing all night long
It could be anywhere
Most likely could be any frontier
Any hemisphere
No man’s land and there ain’t no asylum here
King Solomon he never lived round here

Go straight to hell boys

Copyright © 2019 Bill Weye

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