This blog is dedicated at bringing to light what is wrong lyrics that are more and more frequently popping up in popular music. The purpose of this blog is to entertain first and to educate second. Keep in mind, I do welcome all opinions, all angles, thoughts, and words, just don’t be a little bitch when I tear your beloved artist to dangling bloody shreds. Why? Because they, of course, get the last laugh on me and you because just like Scrooge McDuck, they all get home from their awesome shows and red carpet events and dive head first into their rooms full of gold coins. They make way more money than you or I do and are way more successful, so we shouldn't have even the slightest guilt in decimating the steaming piles of shit they come up with to make those millions.
In the words of Billy Madison: “on wit’ da chlorophyll”………
Let's begin the onslaught with “Hey Soul Sister” by Train. Let’s just jump right in, shall we?
Verse one:
Your lipstick stains
On the front lobe of my
Left side brain
I knew I wouldn't forget you
And so I went and let you
Blow my mind
Pat Monahan just snuck a pretty raunchy metaphor right under the majority people’s radars. Read the verse aloud. Go ahead, I’ll wait. There are lipstick stains on his brain…why? This at first glance is a cute, funny way of saying, the subject “soul sister” has left an impression on Pat and this memory of her stays inside his brain…awwwww. Look closer. There are lipstick stains on his brain because she gave his brain a blow job. Yes. She actually “blew, or blow-jobbed” his brain and she was wearing lipstick because she stained his brain. Nice. This is actually quite a clever move, but felllating a mans cerebellum is a little awkward with a I - V - vi -IV progression and catchy pop hooks and unedited radio play at 8AM when the kiddies are listening to the radio with mom in the car on the way to school. Im pretty sure this song was on Kids Bop Volume 3 so congrats Pat, you’ve made kids sing about sex.
Your sweet moonbeam
The smell of you in every
Single dream I dream
I knew when we collided
You're the one I have decided
Who's one of my kind
Personally I have never seen a woman who had or owned a moonbeam. I have seen a woman “bathed in moonbeams” or a fair skinned woman who had soft skin, as if it was under moonbeams, but “your sweet moonbeam” to me, just paints a picture of Sailor Moon farting straight into Pat Monahans face as he let’s loose a perverted smile and sensually inhales the female moonbeam fart. Also “I knew when we collided” seems a bit strange….what are you a particle, Pat? Are you doing research at the Large Hadron Collider at Cern? Or maybe you met her by running as fast as you can with your eyes closed into a cafe in New York, in which case, ok, I see where you’re coming from. If you use a verb at the end of a rhyme scheme it’s typically one that should be completely consistent with the story. If not, maybe go for logical consistency over just hodge-podging some bullshit words to fit the rhyme scheme. Now, for the chorus.
Hey soul sister
Ain't that mister mister
On the radio stereo
The way you move ain't fair, you know
Hey soul sister
I don't wanna miss
A single thing you do
Tonight
Ok, so you, the reader should know that the “soul sister” that Pat is referring too in this song is a reference to an attractive African American woman. I get that. What I don’t get is why the hell she is listening to Mr. Mister. Have you ever heard this band, Pat? This is the whitest of the white people! 80’s synth rock, dude. The number of black people currently jamming out to Mr. Mister is roughly equivalent to the number of nuns jamming out to N.W.A. Once again, you wanted to abandon logical constancy to favor a rhyme so that super hot, drunken 20-30 women can mindlessly scream the easy-to-remember nonsense. Also - I don’t know about you but I don’t own a radio-stereo. What even is this? I think some of us had one in the 90's - 00's but it was called a Boom-Box.
I’ve left alone the last verse and bridge just for brevity’s sake and to allow you to throw in your own input about what you think sucks or even is great about the rest of the song. Ok so now that we’ve had an educational and enlightening time together, I want to present to you my favorite part of this blog. It’s the part where I turn a part of the song into an even bigger mess of nonsense. This requires you to sing, as loud as you can, original melody of the song with the new lyrics I have written. DONT READ AHEAD. Just sing. Ready? At work? Do it anyways, don’t be a bitch. SING IT LOUD. I promise, most of you will probably burst out laughing and your day will be better.
Hey Soul Sister
Go and fist my blister
Under mistletoe, you’re a hoe
Let’s shit blue pistachios
Hey soul sister
I just want to piss
a giant red kazoo
and die
Lastly I encourage you creative blokes and totties to write your own nonsense chorus in the comments below.
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I had writing it. Stick around. Next Blog: Gorilla by Bruno Mars!
Footnote: Dylan Galvin is not a Woody-Harrelson-esque douche living in his mothers basement with no idea what he’s talking about. He has a B.F.A. Magna Cum Laude from Berklee College of Music, a songwriting contest winner and plays music full time with well known Southern Maryland band, The Piranhas.
