I write the songs that make the young girls... leave the room.
Well, I can knock another one off the "cliched LJ topics" list: the I-wrote-a-song-today post. Last night at the open mic night at After Hours, Andy issued me a challenge: If I could write a song called "I'm a Sick Poodle With My Tail Between My Legs" in 24 hours, he would perform it. The result is significant for a few reasons.
First, it's the first time I've actually sat down and written a song start to finish; most of the Demons songs were born from Andy playing a riff and me free-associating over them until a workable set of lyrics coagulates, and many of them have never been written down (though much of "Soylent Green" was written after the fact). It's got some odd chord progressions, as the only instrument I have to compose on is an autoharp, which lacks, among other chords, E and B.
Second, it's quite possibly the single most aggressively stupid thing I've ever written, but I suppose that comes with the subject matter. In any event, I'm holding Andy to his word.
And finally, I'd like the record to state that I've written the first love song to include the phrase "My stool's turning red."
You know I used to be best in show,
I’m primped and I’m pampered from my head to my toe,
My personal grooming staff’s the best you can get.
But lately I’ve been thinking I might wanna see a vet
You can tell right away from my glassy stare
My appetite’s decreased and I’m panting for air
Girl, it’s like you got me on some terrible drug
If you don’t take me back I’ll make a mess on your rug!
Chorus
I’m a sick poodle with my tail between my legs
My glands produce an odor like a dozen rotten eggs
If it weren’t against my training I would sit up and beg
‘Cause baby, since you left me, my whole life’s been in the dregs!
Baby, oh baby, why you treat me so mean?
Seems like every day I hack up something green
We used to play fetch, now you play me for a fool
This isn’t what they taught me in obedience school!
My pedigree’s perfect, all the judges agree
You’d never meet a better lap dog than me
My coat was so silky, you couldn’t help but pat
But now people confuse me for a sewer rat!
Chorus
Life with you was my Fantasia
But life with heartworms gives me less pleasure
And not that I think that it would phase ya
But now I’m thinkin’ ‘bout euthanasia!
Now my fur is all mangy and my eyes are oozin’ pus,
If a car doesn’t get me, then the dogcatcher must,
I’m foaming at the mouth, and my stool’s turning red,
Don’t wanna do nothing ‘cept roll over and play dead
If you want me back, if this is all a big trick,
I’m tellin’ you, baby, you better move quick,
Cause if you don’t stop this and start treating me nice,
I might have to follow Bob Barker’s advice!
Chorus
First, it's the first time I've actually sat down and written a song start to finish; most of the Demons songs were born from Andy playing a riff and me free-associating over them until a workable set of lyrics coagulates, and many of them have never been written down (though much of "Soylent Green" was written after the fact). It's got some odd chord progressions, as the only instrument I have to compose on is an autoharp, which lacks, among other chords, E and B.
Second, it's quite possibly the single most aggressively stupid thing I've ever written, but I suppose that comes with the subject matter. In any event, I'm holding Andy to his word.
And finally, I'd like the record to state that I've written the first love song to include the phrase "My stool's turning red."
You know I used to be best in show,
I’m primped and I’m pampered from my head to my toe,
My personal grooming staff’s the best you can get.
But lately I’ve been thinking I might wanna see a vet
You can tell right away from my glassy stare
My appetite’s decreased and I’m panting for air
Girl, it’s like you got me on some terrible drug
If you don’t take me back I’ll make a mess on your rug!
Chorus
I’m a sick poodle with my tail between my legs
My glands produce an odor like a dozen rotten eggs
If it weren’t against my training I would sit up and beg
‘Cause baby, since you left me, my whole life’s been in the dregs!
Baby, oh baby, why you treat me so mean?
Seems like every day I hack up something green
We used to play fetch, now you play me for a fool
This isn’t what they taught me in obedience school!
My pedigree’s perfect, all the judges agree
You’d never meet a better lap dog than me
My coat was so silky, you couldn’t help but pat
But now people confuse me for a sewer rat!
Chorus
Life with you was my Fantasia
But life with heartworms gives me less pleasure
And not that I think that it would phase ya
But now I’m thinkin’ ‘bout euthanasia!
Now my fur is all mangy and my eyes are oozin’ pus,
If a car doesn’t get me, then the dogcatcher must,
I’m foaming at the mouth, and my stool’s turning red,
Don’t wanna do nothing ‘cept roll over and play dead
If you want me back, if this is all a big trick,
I’m tellin’ you, baby, you better move quick,
Cause if you don’t stop this and start treating me nice,
I might have to follow Bob Barker’s advice!
Chorus