Thursday, September 25, 2008


I am convinced that my husband knows every song out there. We'll be driving through East Texas and a random bluegrass song from the 1950s will come on the radio, and he will be able to more or less sing along.

Or we'll be walking through GAP and some cheesy little teenage angst love song comes on, and he whines along in unison.

I've never even heard these songs, so sometimes I'm impressed by his music knowledge. But half the time -- no, more like 90 percent of the time -- he makes the lyrics up. They're phonetic, but they're usually WAY off. For example, Bruce Springsteen's "Blinded by the Light" is completely butchered by Brad. The actual lyrics are:

Blinded by the light,
Revved up like a deuce,
Another runner in the night..

But the way Brad sings it, it's:

Blinded by the light,
Wrapped up like a douche,
Another running uhhh-nuh night!

For YEARS, he actually thought those were the words. Seriously. Srsly.

Most of the time it's cute, but sometimes I can't believe that he doesn't know the words to these songs. Like, I get the feeling he'll just start singing whatever he wants.

Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love" may become:

I don't care what they say I'm uhh- luhhhhhh- you.
They try to tear me apart, but I uhhh- luhhhhh you.
Keep thinking, keep, keep sinking in luhhh,
I keep dreaming, keep, keep dreaming uh-huh...

Anyway, Brad is studying at Starbucks right now and listening to Coldplay. Apparently he was wishing he could serenade me, because I returned to my computer a moment ago and was simultaneously entertained and horrified by what was on my G-chat... Coldplay lyrics. Butchered. Nay, massacred. I'm going to put the actual line, followed immediately by Brad's version in red, for two of the songs.


Lights go out and I can’t be saved
lights go out and a camping slave
Brought me down upon my knees
bought me down - oh I beg and please

Shoot an apple off my head
hoot an apple off my head

And a, trouble that can’t be named
trouble trouble can't be named.
Tigers waitin’ to be tamed
Tigers waiting to be swinged

Confusion never stops
cold fusion never stops,
Closing walls and ticking clocks
all the stuff clocks

Curse missed opportunities
curse stop, my chin-a-neese

Home, home, where I wanted to go
Comb, where I want it to be.

"Green Eyes"

Honey you are a rock
honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand...
pun witch I stan...

That green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you...
the green I's, yeah the spark light, shins up on you
I came here with a load
i came here with a lobe
And it feels so much lighter, now I’ve met you...
and it feels so much lighter now I metchu...

Sighhh... What a crazy, goofy man I have married. :-) Thanks for indulging me.


Stephanie said...

ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! That's hysterical!!! I must confess: I am guilty of the making-up-lyrics crime. Hubbie usually laughs at me. I usually *think* I know the song when the intro plays, but have to start guessing half the lyrics, when it comes down to it. I always try to at least rhyme the made up word with the previous line in hopes that no one (read, Taylor) notices I don't know what I'm doing.

My man doesn't even try to sing along to songs. He just air drums/guitars/keyboards along... and is usually pretty good at that.


Erin said...

That is so funny! I think I like some of his lyrics even better than the real ones...I mean, anyone who can incorporate the word 'douche' into a song has my vote!

Jess said...

Oh wow, this post made my day! I was literally laughing out loud!
On another note, I need some Paris tips from you - church, hangout spots, etc. I'm living in the 18th, Montmartre. I really think that you and Brad should plan a trip!