A few months ago, I posted about us finding a Great Pyrenees we named Buddy. Well, we found the owner, but not before Buddy left us a gift- or 8 gifts that keep giving. On May 8, Martha had 8 puppies between midnight and 5 in the morning…without further ado…here they are!
Buddy is at his home, and Martha is doing well and has been a super mom. It’s been an adventure for all of us. We barricade them in a room, and they bust out. Usually the one leading the charge is the only one that has a name…Cosmo…and that would be number 6 on here. Of course, we picked him out to keep before we knew of Mr. Cosmo’s rebellious nature. Some of their paws are brownish in the pictures; that would be them getting to eat off a plate for the first time. What’s the fun in that when they can romp in it as well!
It’s hard to tell you how big of a fan of Buster Keaton I am. Not only do I love his on-screen character, but his filmmaking techniques are still second to none. I got to know Buster through reading about Clara Bow. First, about his Sunset Boulevard cameo, and then I went back and watched his films. The Navigator, The General, Sherlock Jr., Battling Butler, and, of course, Steamboat Bill Jr. I also watched his “shorts” that he made before features. There was no one like him. No one took a fall like he did. He was a natural acrobat. He didn’t use stunt men because the stunt men would say they could not do it like Buster Keaton. This movie has the most famous scene of Buster Keaton’s film career and possibly of silent movies in general.
He was a little off kilter compared to his comedy peers. He was more subtle than Chaplin or Harold Lloyd. Keaton used non-movement to his advantage. You would see him in a crowd easily. They would be moving along, and his stillness would get your attention. Buster was also an excellent filmmaker with the way he paced a movie. He didn’t fake stunts…he didn’t like cutting in at the last minute. He wanted the scene to be filmed in one shot and completely natural. Ok, enough of my love for Buster Keaton.. .well, nah, I’ll continue.
Buster Keaton’s Steamboat Bill, Jr. was released in 1928. It came near the end of the silent film era. Keaton plays William Canfield Jr., a young man who returns home to spend time with his Riverboat Captain dad after years away at college. His father, Steamboat Bill Canfield, is a tough old riverboat captain who is disappointed to find his son is more interested in music and fashion than life on the river. A generation gap that has been going on since time began. The film centers on their rocky relationship and a rivalry between competing steamboat owners. The scenes between Buster and Ernest Torrence, who plays his father, are very funny.
The movie was filmed during one of the most difficult periods of Keaton’s career. He was still making films independently before losing much of his creative freedom after signing with MGM. Even so, he poured everything he had into this production. The river scenes were expensive and complicated to film. Entire sets were built and later destroyed for the movie’s famous storm sequence.
Today, Steamboat Bill, Jr. is remembered for one of the greatest stunts in film history. During a tornado scene, the front wall of a house falls directly toward Keaton. He survives because he stands in the exact spot where an open window passes around him. There were no special effects. No trick photography. If he had missed his mark by even a few inches, he could have been seriously injured or killed. The front of that building weighed 2 tons, so it would not twist in the wind. The scene remains one of the most famous moments in silent film. The director turned his head away during that scene because he feared Buster would misjudge it.
Although the movie was not a major box office success when it was released, its reputation grew over the years. Many film historians now consider it one of Keaton’s masterpieces. Nearly a century later, this movie still feels relatable and shows why Buster Keaton is still remembered.
The making of Steamboat Bill, Jr. was almost as dramatic as the film itself. During production in 1927, the devastating Mississippi River floods were still fresh in the public’s mind. Keaton’s original ending involved a flood, but he decided to change it to a cyclone and storm sequence to avoid reminding audiences of a recent tragedy.
The final storm scenes were some of the most expensive ever filmed for a silent movie. Huge sets were built and then destroyed by giant wind machines, water pumps, and carefully planned special effects. Keaton insisted on doing most of the dangerous stunts himself, including the famous falling house facade scene. The film would also become his last truly independent production before he joined MGM. It was his final chapter of the creative freedom that made Buster Keaton one of the greats of film.
Sonny Rollins passed away not long ago, and I hate to admit it, but I only knew him for playing sax on Waiting On A Friend by the Stones. Christian always runs a jazz song on his Sunday Six posts, and I find myself getting excited to hear another jazz song to start my Sunday. This post took me a while to write. I went out of my comfort zone with this one, but it was worth it, and I would like to do more in the future.
Sonny Rollins spent years learning from some of the giants of the era. He was born in New York City in 1930; Rollins came of age during the rise of bebop. By the early 1950s, he had already recorded with legends such as Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk, and Charlie Parker. Rollins quickly developed a style of his own. His playing was powerful and melodic. He became known for taking simple melodies and turning them into something completely new through improvisation.
This one was recorded on June 22, 1956, during the sessions for the album Saxophone Colossus. Rollins was backed by pianist Tommy Flanagan, bassist Doug Watkins, and drummer Max Roach. The tune was based on a Caribbean folk melody that Rollins had heard from his mother’s family. His parents were from the Virgin Islands, and the song reflected those roots. The calypso rhythm immediately set it apart from many jazz recordings of the period.
What I’m hearing is Rollins using a melody as a launching point for a series of inventive solos. Max Roach drives the recording while Flanagan and Watkins provide a steady foundation. I’ve noticed in these recordings that the musicians leave plenty of space for one another, which gives tracks a loose and natural feel. It is one of those recordings that sounds new no matter how many times you hear it because it’s unpredictable in the best way.
This song introduced many listeners to Rollins and became his signature tune. More than seventy years later, it is still played by jazz musicians around the world. Like so many great recordings, it takes something simple and familiar and turns it into something you remember. I understand why Sonny Rollins is regarded as one of the true giants of jazz.
I was searching for bands to cover and ran across this one. I’ve heard of them a lot but never really listened to their music. The minute I played this one, I remembered it. This song has a bite to it, with that intro guitar. They keep an edge over the Southern California style of that time. It’s catchy without being too sweet. It works as a nice pop song.
They were formed in 1974 when J. D. Souther, Chris Hillman, and Richie Furay joined together after their earlier bands had already helped shape country rock. Furay had come from Buffalo Springfield and Poco; Hillman had been in The Byrds and the Flying Burrito Brothers; and Souther was already becoming known as a songwriter closely tied to the Southern California music scene. This song appeared on their 1974 debut album and became the group’s biggest single.
J. D. Souther wrote the song, and his style is all over it… a polished sound, different from what Furay and Hillman did earlier. The recording sessions were handled with producer Tom Sellers. Top Studio players helped give the record a commercial sound, but with some edge still in there as well.
Even though this song gave the band a hit, Souther-Hillman-Furay Band never fully broke through the way many expected. The music business was changing quickly, and country rock was becoming more polished and corporate by the mid-1970s. The group released two albums before splitting up in 1975. Still, this remains a good snapshot of that California country-rock era.
This song peaked at #27 on the Billboard 100 in 1974.
Fallin In Love
Here I go again, it’s all right Full moons grown to brighten the night I’ve been lookin’, now seein’ the light It’s sure shinin’ bright, yea
Well, honey, believe in it, it bein’ free mm Nothin’ to love’s like nothin’ to be You’ve got once a lifetime To see just how much of your dream
Honey, to feel like fallin’ in love, just to know Honey, to feel like fallin’ in love
Turnin’ home, runnin’ free as the wind Stretchin’ my stride, wanna hold you again Well, it’s time to be taken in Let me know where I’ve been, yea
Honey, to feel like fallin’ in love, just to know Don’t you know what it feels like fallin’ in love
Honey to feel like fallin’ in love
Turnin’ home, runnin’ free as the wind Stretchin’ my stride, wanna hold you again Well it’s time to be taken in Let me know where I’ve been
That opening G#m chord is simple but so effective. That strum on that chord alone drew me into this song and still does. When I was 14, I bought this single and wore it out. Finding the single sleeve that went with it for this post brought back so many memories. At that time I knew Gary US Bonds vaguely for Quarter to Three. Now this one is the first song I think of when his name comes up. This guitar sound is perfect, and I love the bounce of the song.
Springsteen wrote the song, and it sounds like it could have fit on one of his own records. The recording sessions took place at the Power Station in New York. Members of the E Street Band played on the track. Bonds brought his voice, while Springsteen supplied the song and the energy behind it. Springsteen and Van Zandt ended up producing the album.
The song accomplished something that is not easy to do. It sounded modern for the early 1980s but still carried some early 60s rock and roll sound. Older listeners would like it, and so would the teens of the day. This teen certainly did. This song was one of my favorite early 80s hits. It has a timeless sound that is hard to pin down in a time period.
This was released as a single in 1981; it became Bonds’ biggest hit in nearly twenty years. It reached the Top 20 in the United States and helped introduce him to a new generation of listeners. More importantly, it proved that Bonds was far more than an oldies act. The success of the song led to more recordings and appearances for him. It was cool to see Bruce work with an older influence, and their sound went together well.
It peaked at #11 on the Billboard 100, #15 in Canada, #43 in the UK, and #11 in New Zealand.
This Little Girl (Is Mine)
Here she comes walkin’ down the street You know she’s walkin’ just like She’s walkin’ to come and see me Oh she’s so young and she’s so fine
I know what’s on your mind Know what you want to do But if you mess with her I’m gonna mess with you You better watch your step You better stay in line
This little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine Oh this little girl This little girl This little girl is mine
Well if the world was mine to do with What I want to do sir Well I’d wrap it up in a bow And give it all to her yeah And all my love All of the time
You know I’d hold her tight I’d never let her go And late at night You know I’d love her so Yeah I’d treat her right So she’d never mind
This little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine Oh this little girl This little girl This little girl is mine Mine, mine, mine
Hey you better watch out I’m telling you the score Are you going to be sweeping your Broken heart up off the floor Oh and that ain’t all I’m telling you my friend
I know what’s on your mind I know what you want to do But if you mess with her I’m gonna mess with you
You like the way she moves You like to watch her walk You better listen up ‘Cause man this just ain’t talk You better watch yourself You better stay in line
Now mister I said This little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine This little girl This little girl This little girl is mine
Oh this little girl is mine This little girl This little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine This little girl This little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine
Yeah, yeah This little girl This little girl Oh this little girl is mine Yeah yeah yeah yeah
This little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine This little girl is mine This little girl she’s mine all mine
Now this little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine Oh I said this little girl This little girl This little girl is mine, mine, mine This little girl is mine Oh this little girl is mine
If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.
And away we go! We trade the village scenery for the Old West. This one does away with the regular intro, and we start off with Number 6 riding a horse in the town of Harmony after a fight. This was Patrick McGoohan’s favorite episode to make. This episode is one of the strangest episodes of The Prisoner, and that is saying something. When it starts, you are wondering what is going on. Is this the right show? Then everything starts falling into place after a few minutes. It’s now an episode that I love.
Number Six suddenly finds himself in what looks like the American Old West. This town, Harmony which is run by the Judge, with the Kid, a young gunslinger, as his murderous assistant. Number 6 is a former sheriff who has resigned his position, much like he resigned from his old life before arriving in the Village. The townspeople do not trust him. The new authorities want him gone. No matter where he turns, he is pressured to explain why he resigned. Just like in the Village, nobody accepts his right to make his own choices.
As the story moves on, Number Six faces harassment and constant attempts to break his spirit. The Western setting is different, but the methods are familiar. The town is really another form of prison. The people around him are playing assigned roles. The authorities try to push him into violence or force him to submit. Number Six refuses to give them what they want. He continues to resist even when the odds are against him.
Near the end, the illusion begins to crack. The western town is revealed to be another experiment designed to control and study him. They try to make him more disposed to killing. The familiar faces of the Village return. Number Six learns that changing the scenery changes nothing. Whether he is in a modern Village or a frontier town, the battle remains the same. It is a fight for freedom, individuality, and the right to remain his own man. Be Seeing You!
Ever since hearing Robbie Blunt, who played with Robert Plant on his first 3 albums, I wanted to know more about him. Bronco was the first major band he was in, and I love the results. His style was so unique and helped make Plant’s signature sound after Zeppelin. One listen to Big Log, and you can hear the uniqueness of his guitar playing. He didn’t have that sound in this, but really tasteful guitar playing. Bronco wasn’t formed for hits; they made really good, solid albums. My UK readers, do you remember this band?
Bronco never really became a well-known band, but for a few years in the early seventies, they were one of those British bands that blended country rock, blues, and folk in a way that fit right alongside bands like Buffalo Springfield, The Flying Burrito Brothers, and The Band. They formed in 1969 around singer Jess Roden after he left The Alan Bown Set. They signed with Island Records during the label’s peak years, when they had many roots-style bands. This song and album are very seventies-sounding, which makes sense, of course.
Robbie Blunt joined on guitar alongside Kevyn Gammond, and even then, you could hear the tasteful style that later became so important. Blunt is not a super flashy player. He worked more in mood, tone, and feel.
Their first album, Country Home, came out in 1970 and had a laid-back country-rock sound with harmony vocals and touches of blues. Around this period, Bronco toured the US and played shows at places like the Whisky a Go Go in Los Angeles. Blunt later talked about seeing Duane Allman during that trip, something that left a real impression on him as a guitarist.
This song is off the Country Home album. Jess Roden and Robbie Blunt wrote this song.
I listened to some tracks of Van Zandt, Miami Steve, or Little Steven… any of his monickers gives you heartfelt Americana soul music. One band he always pushes is The Rascals, and I can see why. You hear that influence in his music, along with the Jersey Shore sound he helped create. This song is so tuneful, and some tasty guitar licks are going on, especially in the intro. Listening to this album was a pleasure, song after song. His passion really comes through his voice in this one.
This song came from Little Steven’s 1982 album Men Without Women. At that point, Steven Van Zandt was still a major part of the E Street Band, but he wanted something of his own. He grew up loving soul records, girl groups, and the Phil Spector sound. Those influences were all over this album. The sessions took place at the Power Station in New York. Van Zandt wanted the record to sound alive. Not polished to death. He wanted horns, echoes, and emotion.
The recording is hard into soul music. The horns punch through the mix while the guitars and rhythm section keep it grounded in rock and roll. Van Zandt and horns have a great history, like Sixteenth Avenue Freeze Out. There are stories that Springsteen added backing vocals during parts of the sessions, which gave the album even more of that Asbury Park spirit without turning it into an E Street record.
A lot of the material on Men Without Women had been around since the Southside Johnny days. Van Zandt was writing constantly then. Songs moved around between projects depending on where they fit best. This song ended up fitting perfectly on this album because it captured that mix of street soul and rock-and-roll. The record did not become a massive commercial hit, but over the years fans have come back to it. The song still sounds real today. It feels like musicians in a room, playing for the song rather than for the charts.
Until The Good Is Gone
Hmm-hmm hmm-hmm hmm-hmm hmm
Yeah, we always stood on the same block way back then Waiting to find out where in the world we fit in Then something on the radio changed everything we’d been Ever since, I need it, over and over again
Where it comes from baby, I don’t know That same old something just won’t let me go It’s too late baby, it’s been too long Don’t try to stop me ’till the good is gone
Now listen, it seems like only yesterday I could hear big mama call, (yes) Get the boys and meet me down at the union hall, (yes) And always in the background even after everybody’s gone It was something on the radio saying, “Come on, come on”
Where it comes from baby, I don’t know, no no That same old something ain’t gonna let me go Oh it’s too late baby, it’s been too long Don’t try to stop me ’till the good is gone
Let me hear you now Say yeah, yeah, alright Come on
Oh, yeah yeah yeah Now baby Oh Woah
So many others never beat the city line They weren’t so different, they just ran out of time You need something in your soul baby that’s gonna keep you strong Oh that kind of good never ever ever never gonna go wrong
Where it comes from baby I don’t know, don’t know That same old something just won’t let me go Oh it’s too late baby, it’s been too long Don’t try to stop me ’till the good is gone Say one more time Don’t try to stop me ’till the good is gone One more time Don’t try to stop me ’till the good is gone Oh let me hear you say it Yeah, yeah, yeah Let me hear you say it Say yeah, yeah, yeah One more time Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah honey Oh yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah yeah), sing Say yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), say everybody say Yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah) Say one more time Yeah (yeah)…
I remember being so curious when I saw Elvis Costello’s debut album. My first thought at 10 years old was, who is this skinny guy with Buddy Holly glasses named Elvis? I found out quickly who the skinny guy was…
Costello had been away from The Attractions for years in the studio. This album Brutal Youth felt like a return. An album with the band chemistry that helped make those late 70s records so sharp. The Attractions, Steve Nieve, Bruce Thomas, and Pete Thomas played on much of the album. Costello later said songs like this reminded him how powerful the band could still sound together.
The song itself came fast. Costello said he wrote it during a one-day burst where he also came up with songs like Rocking Horse Road and Pony St. He would crank up his guitar loud and ad lib and then go back and see what was worth saving. He said: “I would work for about half an hour with the guitar cranked up really loud, and make a tape of just anything that came into my head. I did it in bursts, and then I listened to see if any of it was interesting. A lot of it was gibberish.”
The title of this song came from the Tomb of the Spanish Kings at El Escorial, where thirteen steps supposedly created a feeling of dread as people descended. Some said the song poked at the growing culture of twelve-step recovery programs that were everywhere in the early 90s.
The recording captured the late seventies energy. The guitars are jagged and loud. The ending guitar solo sounds almost out of control, which I love! Critics at the time heard it as Costello reconnecting with the energy of This Year’s Model and Armed Forces.
13 Steps Lead Down
When nobody knows she puts on secret clothes And lies in the meadow with her hands tied behind her back I won’t refuse if you know how to use it Just stop playing that ugly drug music
Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down There’s commoners and kings And everyone’s a prisoner of Paper and glue And a decent pair of scissors So tonight I’m drinking to your health Because I just can’t stand myself
Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down
She stands and fails On fashion fingernails Her lovers have her walking ’round On instruments of torture And one of them is poisonous The other is a thief they say So what one could give to her The other cannot take away
When nobody knows she puts on secret clothes And lies in her splendor for a picture opportunity Cover up that bruise, put on patent leather shoes Just stop playing that bad mood music baby
Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down There’s commoners and kings And everyone’s a prisoner of Paper and glue And a decent pair of scissors So tonight I’m drinking to your health Because I just can’t stand myself
Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down Thirteen steps lead down
I want to thank Jim Adams at https://jimadamsauthordotcom.wordpress.com/. I helped Jim with a computer problem a while back, and he sent me something worth far more than the time we spent repairing it. He sent me my favorite Grateful Dead album, Wake of the Flood. When I heard Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo a few years ago, I knew I had to check that album out.
Most of what I know about the Grateful Dead I credit to Jim. After a few listens to the album, I realized it stacked up well against American Beauty and Workingman’s Dead. In time, I started to move it toward the top. This song is one of the album’s standouts. It was written by Robert Hunter and Jerry Garcia.
The sessions were important because it was the first Grateful Dead studio album released on their own label after leaving Warner Bros. Keith Godchaux’s piano and Garcia’s guitar gave it that late-night feeling that fit Hunter’s lyrics perfectly. Instead of building toward a huge climax, the band let the song breathe. That became part of its power.
The song was influenced by a nightmarish acid trip that Hunter had in 1969. The Dead usually placed it late in the second set after long jams and space sections. I’ve gone back and listened to a lot of live versions of this song. Garcia’s guitar solos on the song changed from night to night. Some versions were calm and soft. Others became explosive by the end.
The song would not show up live until June 17, 1972, at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. That night was also the final show for Pigpen with the band. From the start, it sounded different from a lot of the Dead’s material. It was quieter and more reflective.
The song was played live 328 times by the Grateful Dead between 1972 and 1995. Its final performance came on July 6, 1995, only weeks before Garcia died.
Stella Blue
All the years combine They melt into a dream A broken angel sings From a guitar In the end there’s just a song Comes crying like the night (wind) Through all the broken dreams And vanished years
Stella Blue When all the cards are down There’s nothing left to see There’s just the pavement left And broken dreams In the end there’s still that song Comes crying like the wind Down every lonely street That’s ever been
Stella Blue I’ve stayed in every blue-light cheap hotel Can’t win for trying Dust off those rusty strings just One more time Gonna make em shine
It all rolls into one And nothing comes for free There’s nothing you can hold For very long And when you hear that song Come crying like the wind It seems like all this life Was just a dream Stella Blue
If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.
This is where the show started to become more chaotic. Before resigning, Number Six had worked on a mind transfer experiment with Professor Seltzman. The Village wants to kidnap the professor (Seltzman) to get information from him. The professor had a machine that could transfer a person’s thoughts and consciousness into another. The Village could transfer someone’s thoughts and consciousness into another person like the professor, but they could not reverse it. For that, they would have to track the Professor down.
The best way was to transfer Number 6’s consciousness to another person, and then he would be forced to find Professor Seltzman and reverse it. They knew Seltzman wouldn’t give up information freely, so they placed Number Six’s consciousness into another man. That man is Colonel Sinclair, who is loyal to Number 1. Now, Number 6 is inhabiting Sinclair. From here on out until we get to the end, Number 6 is in Sinclair’s body. Sinclair’s thoughts are back at the village in Number 6.
This unique “freaky Friday” style body-swap plot was actually written out of necessity. Actor and series creator Patrick McGoohan needed to travel to the United States to film his role in the feature film Ice Station Zebra, so the writers created a storyline that allowed another actor (Nigel Stock) to stand in as Number Six. So until the end, Sinclair is really Number 6
Sinclair leaves the Village and heads back to London to his home. He tries to contact people from Number Six’s old life. Nobody recognizes him because he no longer looks like himself. Sinclair also reconnects with Number Six’s former fiancée. She begins to believe his story after hearing details only Number Six would know.
We have some serious spy business as well. My favorite part of this episode is when Sinclair gets a note that was given to his fiancée before he was kidnapped. It’s a number to pick up some picture slides from a photo business. The government has already seen them, but they couldn’t figure the code out. Sinclair works through them to get the message. Now Sinclair (again Number 6) is going to reconnect with Professor Sinclair, and the Village knew that he would, so they follow. That was the whole point of this.
They ended up kidnapping both of them. Sinclair returns with the professor, hoping to reverse the process before it becomes permanent. The transfer is finally reversed, and Number Six gets his own body back. This episode ranks near the bottom with a lot of fans and critics, but I thought it was fun and I liked the ending…it was a wonderful twist. Be Seeing You!
I have been writing about the RMS Titanic on my blog, and I think it fits the pop culture theme I have, but I would like to write about the Olympic, Britannic, and other ships like the SS Edmund Fitzgerald and the RMS Empress of Ireland. But I thought it would work better in a separate blog. I won’t be posting a ton to it, but it will give me a place to write about them without disrupting the flow at powerpop.blog. If you are interested, come along, but I get it if you are not. That is why I’m making this blog. A release valve for me to explore this subject when I find something interesting. Thank you all for reading as always.
My friend Greg sent me this band in a text message. I listened to it and some of their other songs; the lead singer sounds more like Jagger than Jagger does in some songs. I love the late sixties with the cool band names. The Incredible Grateful Shrinking Chocolate Marshmallows. Wow…if only it were still the late 60s! Little did I know when I heard this song that it has a KINKS connection.
This song was written by Ray Davies in 1966. The original version was sung by Dave Davies and released as a B-side to Sunday Afternoon in England. The Chocolate Watchband took the song and pushed it into rougher territory. It fit right in with the late 1960s garage scene where bands wanted fuzz guitars, attitude, and songs about not fitting in. The Watchband that mixed garage rock with psychedelia. This song became one of the tracks fans connected with because it sounded defiant without trying too hard.
This is really strange. The song was on the album The Inner Mystique, which had an odd history because producer Ed Cobb used session musicians and outside singers on the first side of the album. The actual band members mainly appeared on the second side, which included this song. The band had largely fractured and disintegrated. Taking advantage of this, their producer/manager Ed Cobb hired anonymous session musicians to record the instrumentals and other tracks to fulfill the record requirements.
The second side helped give those tracks more of the real Chocolate Watchband sound. Rough guitars. Garage rock energy. Less polished than what the label wanted.
I’m Not Like Everybody Else
I won’t take all that they hand me down And make out a smile, though I wear a frown ‘Cause I’m not gonna take it all lying down ‘Cause once I get started, I go to town
‘Cause I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else
And I don’t want to walk about like everybody else And I don’t want to live my life like everybody else And I won’t say that I feel fine like everybody else ‘Cause I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else
But darling, you know that I love you true Do anything that you want me to Confess all my sins like you want me to There’s one thing that I will say to you
I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else
And I don’t want to walk about like everybody else And I don’t want to live my life like everybody else And I won’t say that I feel fine like everybody else ‘Cause I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else
Like everybody else Like everybody else Like everybody else Like everybody else
If you all want me to settle down Slow up and stop all my running ’round Do everything like you want me to There’s one thing that I will say to you
I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else
And I don’t want to walk about like everybody else And I don’t want to live my life like everybody else And I don’t want to stay confined like everybody else ‘Cause I’m not like everybody else I’m not like everybody else
Like everybody else (Like everybody else) Like everybody else (Like everybody else) Like everybody else (Like everybody else) Like everybody else
PowerPop... An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture 