Wine for Song Lyrics

I was reminded this morning of how fun it can be to misunderstand the lyrics to songs. The radio station I listen to in the car on my way to class played "Funky Town" and I recalled that I used to think that the lyrics to the chorus were "I want two tickets to Funky Town". I think they're actually "Won't you take me to Funky Town" or something like that. This way, she is asking someone to take her somewhere, as opposed to my version, where she could have just been talking to her travel agent.

You know that song by The Police with the chorus "We are spirits in the material world"? When I was younger I thought they were saying "We are spare ribs in the material world". These lyrics make absolutely no sense, of course, but I didn't spend too much time worrying about that. Apparently, I just wanted spare ribs. I must have heard that they were particularly delicious in Funky Town. Hence the two tickets I needed to get there.

Clearly I have always been a star in the lyric-writing department. When I was about five years old, I wrote a song with the words "I met all my friends...at my nursery school. Karina and Diana and Christina, too. I don't know if there's any more to do." and then repeat. I have no idea what that last phrase of the song meant, but I'm sure it was significant.

By far my best song was written, I think, when I was even younger than five (my sister can correct me if I'm wrong). This one was brilliant in its simplicity. I urge you to set these lyrics to the tune of your choice and give it a go: "Undies undies, bop bop bop. Undies undies bop bop bop. Undies undies undies bop bop bop. You look like a bop bop bop." Yup, that's right. Me. Mozart. Child prodigies, both.

About 10 years ago, I was in a production of "Henry IV, Part I" at Shakespeare & Company in Lenox, MA. This was when the theatre company was still performing at the Edith Wharton property, and the outdoor theatre was this wonderful wood stage behind the main house, surrounded by trees on three sides. We would often make our entrances from the woods, emerging out of the darkness and shadows of the trees into the lights of the stage. It was a magical spot for Shakespeare, and it makes me sad to think that there will be no more performances on that stage; the stage no longer exists now, and Shakespeare & Company has moved to an entirely different location.

"Henry IV, Part I" is one of my favorite Shakespeare plays, and I played a few small roles in this production: I was a traveller who got chased off into the woods; some sort of freaky Druid woman dressed all in black ( this was the worst because the mosquitos in an outdoor nighttime summer production in Massachusetts are, to put it mildly, aggressive, and we were supposed to remain absolutely still while getting eaten alive); and finally, a soldier on the battlefield.

"Henry IV, Part I" has a terrific battle scene which ends the play, and we had hours of stage combat training with broadswords and bows and arrows. Stage combat is spectacularly fun, because so much of selling it involves lots of vocal commitment; in other words, shout and grunt a lot. Practicing during the day in the sweltering summer heat was not always a joy (one person even fainted), but watching the whole cast performing in the evening with the swords glinting in the stage lights as people fought each other in and amongst the trees was pretty cool. We even had a few storms come in during these battles scenes, and hearing the thunder crash and the lightning reflect off the swords as the storm approached was beyond thrilling (until of course you realized you were holding a large lightning rod in your hand, and then it was just freaky).

I must admit, I was pretty darn good at the sword-play, but in the end, my role in the final battle scene was that of Crazy Mace Lady. I was given a baton with a black-painted plastic chain, at the end of which was a black nerf-ball with sponge spikes attached. In the stage lights, it looked pretty real, and my job was to go running through the battlefield, swinging my mace and bashing people, both dead and alive with it, while screaming bloody murder. This was not only loads of fun for me, but was also much loved by many of my cast-mates. We had such fun with it, that my friend Amanda and I wrote our very own heavy-metal song, inspired by Mace Lady.

Here are the lyrics: "Mace lady!! She's crazy!! Hit you in the face...with her mace!!!" Repeat. And repeat. And repeat. I know we wrote some other lyrics to go with that chorus, but I can't remember them now. I think we can all agree that's probably a good thing.

My wine for writing lyrics is Seven Hills Syrah Walla Walla Valley 2005. This Syrah is a beautiful inky garnety-purple color, which I feel is an appropriate salute to Mace Lady and the havoc she wreaked. It is a complex, subtle Syrah, with a nose and palate of raspberry, blueberry, figs, plums, black pepper. violets and clove. This would be a wonderful wine to have with beef stew, or steak au poivre, but would also be delicious on its own, say, while writing a song, or after a hard day of macing.

Please share your best mis-heard song lyrics in the comments section; they're always so much fun!