Showing posts with label mondegreen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mondegreen. Show all posts

Monday, August 24, 2015

He sang beneath your whisper like a storm.

Oh Man, did I ever catch these guys in a good one. They're totally wrong and I'm right. They have three writers for azlyrics with questionable hearing. I don't know. I think the song Suzanne is a cover by Roberta Flack. Sounds like a poem because it has irrational poem-y things in it and a misunderstanding of Jesus. Otherwise pretty good. And I can see what this song says when I listen, and have for decades. It's locked in. Physically. The actions of how to say this poem-song are locked in and just now I noticed azlyrics has "He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone."

Big difference.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

F-i-i-i-ve Golden R-i-i-i-ngs



Means pheasants. Says Olga Khazan at the Atlantic linked by Insty.

After all, the days of Christmas are all birds up to day eight where they peter out to regular women toiling and lords and ladies dancing and jumping around all over the place to music well-appointed with wind instruments and with emphasis on percussion.

And this whole time I was taking it at face value, five gold rings that you put on your fingers. That's a lot of rings and it means the person really does love you a lot.

But these pheasants are outstanding and I wouldn't mind having these at all if the city would allow it. Regular pheasants are  already outstanding but these pheasants are super outstanding, just look at their colors. They're better than parrots.



Plus they're not squawking all the time, repeating your favorite most damaging phrases.  Man, these would be great Christmas presents. These are good as peacocks any day. Plus they can decorate your hats and you can eat them.





Olga say also the lyrics are "colly birds" not "calling birds" and that changes everything. Colly means black, soot black. Like blackbirds. Olga says that was a joke, twenty-four black birds in a pie shell so that when it is cut open the birds come flying out. Ha ha ha. Good one. There must have been a lot of birds around in Medieval days of yore.

Here's what twenty-four blackbirds baked in a pie looks like, I drew this for you: