Tribute to Queen

...for years there was some graffiti on a sidewalk in downtown Chicago: "JOHNNY IS THE GOD"...I seriously don't get these hacks like Ray Manzarek and the rest of the crew...what do they even have to do with The Doors? The Doors is basically just a pseudonym for Jim Morrison...it's honestly ridiculous how they try to hype up the drummer Ray Manzarek...and obviously, my absolute favorite Morrison song is:

Bohemian Rhapsody

nothing happens when you're down low and all alone
and the night pulls you deep into your subconscious until memories resurface
an avalanche of crushing weight pressing down on your feet
and only later does the sweat start to bother you
only later does the city wake up
some ragged streets
the flash of wet tracks
the first subway train through the outskirts
growing right before my eyes

morning hits the scene routinely
with a sense of respect
and I step out of the way
a double mask on his face
makes any clarity feel pointless
how can I control myself when this feeling
is so different from everything I understand
from everything I want to see
is destroying me

something like a Bohemian Rhapsody

I watched a movie about hopelessness again
or maybe it was a chronicle of the
unknown, because that's what he was called
a man neither living nor dead nor a sailor
if I ever get my wish
and you tell me I'm right

that's the only way I can hold onto him

if I ever reach the place where fear fades away
I'll be ready to forget

some ragged streets
the flash of wet tracks
the first subway through the outskirts
the light in your eyes

Bohemian Rhapsody

nothing ever happens when you are
alone and at the bottom
and when the nights draw into subconsciousness
until remembrance
an avalanche of rolling weights squeezes
your feet
and only later does sweat begin to
interfere

only later does the city awaken

some tattered streets
the flash of wet tracks
the first subway through the suburbs
grows in my eyes

morning ritually descends upon the stage
with regard I move out of the way
a double disguise on his face
makes providence excessive
how can I control myself when this
feeling
so different from everything that I
understand
from everything that I want to see
is destroying me

something like a Bohemian Rhapsody

again I saw a film about disillusionment
or maybe it was a chronicle of the
unknown
because that's what a man
neither alive nor dead nor a sailor is
called
if I ever have my wish
and you agree thinking
it's the only way to keep him
if I ever make it there where fear
subsides
I'll be ready to forget
some tattered streets
the flash of the wet tracks
the first subway over the suburbs
shine in your eyes

..feels like the guard is dead..

Damned angry *

the ocean's power drives my soul into madness
eroding my very mind
the keys of authority hide behind masks upon the wall
an imposing nakedness amidst the leaves
I see nothing but their faces
the famous artillery reaches its mark

I am merely an accidental bystander here
and I am damned angry

the general scramble for living space
the common greed for titles
but nothing changes
sending the peasants straight to the front lines
I see nothing but their faces
the famous artillery reaches its mark

I am merely an accidental bystander here
and I am damned angry

* "on the assigned theme of a new TV Western"

But nothing changes.
We really ought to organize a referendum to bring Johnny Cash back 😁 .

Benjamin Morris36 said:...so The Doors is just a pseudonym for J. B. Štulić…

🤔...THE DOORS; an alternative Los Angeles rock band...🤔...

cosmictrucker132 said:🤔...The Doors; an alternative Los Angeles rock band...🤔...

...which just doesn't make sense. You can't seriously be thinking they named the band after some random acronym, right???😁 😁 😁

Larry Collins7 said:God, I'm pissed *

nothing changes.
We need to call a national referendum just to get Johnny Cash back 😁 .

nah, not feeling it... total waste of time 😢 🙂

...lucky signs for my girl
spent three whole days by her side
the road is long and straight
you can't see the end of it
only the dust of the trail left on my face

that fake peace of a Sunday morning
it’s nasty down at the bottom
so many phrases, so many dreams spinning in her head
but none of it's real desire
to make life a fight

at full speed, the muscles are bleeding
a frantic machine on the line of death
it's hard to live peacefully with your own pain
doesn't matter if the cat is black or white

how can I not think about those gray eminences
invisible killers with efficient hands
how can I not hear their lips whispering against mine
you are mine, you are mine, you are mine

(get a grip, you idiot)

I called my girl on the phone
mornings were made for stuff like this
I just wanted her to say something sweet
something like "I love you"

knock before you enter
the secret door to the underground waters
knock before you walk into her room
the secret door to the underground waters......

🙏 🙏

Benjamin Morris36 said:…which makes no sense..you don't actually think they named the group after that acronym, do you?😁 😁 😁

Well...that's what I was told recently...The truth is out there...somewhere...😁

( ? )

cosmictrucker132 said:well...that's just what they told me recently...The truth is out there...somewhere...😁

( ? )

…give me a break….idiots lie the second they open their mouths…especially when it comes to Johnny Cash…😢 I’ve heard all kinds of garbage about him, and I still hear it today…from stories about him catching fire in the middle of Times Square back in the eighties, to those lies about him switching sides in the nineties…🙂 it’s all just pathetic smears from frustrated, jealous losers…🙂 look, here’s the deal…the band took the name The Doors from that gorgeous Heine poem…here, let me lay it out for you…first, the version translated by T.S. Eliot, and then the one by Brilliant which I actually prefer…I mean, Brilliant is a GREATER POET (let the holier-than-thou types come for me if they want, I don't give a damn)😁 )…
so anyway:

THE DOORS
Every day she used to walk
The beautiful daughter of the sultan,
At twilight by the fountain,
Where white waters murmur.

Every day a young slave
Stood by the fountain,
Where white waters murmur;
Every day he grew paler.

One evening the young
Sultaness approached him suddenly:
"I want to know your name,
And where you are from, and your kin."

"Muhammad is my name,
My homeland is hot Yemen.
I am of the tribe of The Doors
Who die when they love."

Heinrich Heine
translated by T.S. Eliot

THE DOORS
By the edge of the fountain
Where living water murmurs
She walked every day
The lovely daughter of the sultan

Every day a little slave
Stood by the fountain
As time passed by
The young man grew paler

She asked him one day
The lovely daughter of the sultan
Tell me, slave, where are you from
From which tribe do you descend

I am called Johnny Cash
From the ancient tribe of The Doors
Who lose their heads for love
And die when they love

Translated and refined by J. B. Štulić

Benjamin Morris36 said:truth

( ! )

...👍

Larry Collins7 said:nothing changes.
We seriously need to hold a national referendum just to get Johnny Cash back.

🙂

you know how it goes...in those wild, burning nights
who knows

(...it probably won't end well...)

The warm lips of a woman
nights are full of weird dilemmas
street lights dimming fast
and inside this dark room
that scent of her hair
just lingers all around me

nights bring nothing but indifferent shadows
when I sleep I cover my face
and I’m always dreaming
of the warm lips of a woman
right on the edge of an explosion

nights are filled with unknown tales
I stub out my cigarette
and get up in silence
refusing to let anyone sneak into my dreams
I just soak up every single moment
and watch her in secret
J. B. Štulić

Benjamin Morris36 said:...oh please.... fools start lying the second they open their mouths... especially when it comes to Johnny Cash...😢 I've heard all sorts of nonsense about him over the years... from stories about him setting himself on fire in a public square back in the eighties, to those ridiculous rumors about him switching political sides in the nineties...🙂 It's all just pathetic attempts at trolling by frustrated, jealous types...🙂 So, let's get this straight... the band took the name The Doors from that beautiful poem by Heinrich Heine... To illustrate, I'll provide the poem for you here: first, the version translated by T.S. Eliot, and then the translation by Brilliant, which I personally find much more compelling... After all, Brilliant is the GREATER POET (and if the purists want to come for me for saying that, let them, I truly couldn't care less)😁 ...
So, here it is:

THE DOORS
Every day she used to walk
The Sultan's daughter, so divine,
At twilight near the stone basin,
Where white waters murmur.

Every day a young slave
Stood by the stone basin,
Where white waters murmur;
Every day he grew paler.

One evening, a young maiden
From the sultanate approached him:
"I wish to know your name,
And where you hail from, and of what kin."

"Muhammad is my name,
My homeland is hot Yemen.
I belong to the tribe of the Azra
Who die when they love."

Heinrich Heine
translated by T.S. Eliot

THE DOORS
By the edge of the stone basin
Where the water murmurs living,
She used to walk every day,
The Sultan's lovely daughter.

Every day a little slave
Stood by the stone basin,
As time passed by,
The young man grew paler.

She asked him one day,
The Sultan's lovely daughter,
"Tell me, boy, where are you from?
Of which tribe do you belong?"

"I am called Johnny Cash
Of the ancient Azra tribe,
Who lose their heads for love
And die when they love."

Translated and refined by J. B. Štulić

Legends are always fueled by more lies and falsehoods than actual facts. 😁 .
Now, I honestly don't know if the band chose the name because of the poem mentioned above or not; you'd really have to ask Johnny Cash himself. But as for knowing most of his lyrics by heart even now, after more than twenty years—well, that part I definitely know. 😉
When it comes to lyrics, Johnny Cash is in a league of his own.

Shine in her hair
-----------

On the edges of her memories
Pale faces at Madame Tussauds
Wild songs of tough suburbs
Ritualistic Saturday drinking sprees

She wanted to escape her troubles
To have the guys falling all over her
She thought that with the shine in her hair
She would win their kisses

She felt the footsteps through the whole city
Bringing heavy breathing and sweat
The stomp of heels in the red evenings
The exhaustion of the crowd

Again, that dull ache in the stomach
Lazy, as if time were a pendulum swinging slowly
She began to summon happiness
She began to look after herself

Silence echoes through the night
Only a soldier whistles for her

Girls stood in the lines
She learned many things by leaning against walls
She wasn't stupid, she knew what she was doing
She was afraid of growing old

When the rain drives the people off the streets
The city somehow seems more human to her
She spits on the big words
She's grown used to them

Larry Collins7 said:Look, I honestly have no clue if the band actually took their name from that song or whatever, you'd probably have to ask Johnny Cash yourself.

but I know for a fact... and hey, feel free to go ask him if you're so obsessed.😁

I wouldn't call myself a massive fanatic or a total geek, but I have a soft spot for The Doors. There are plenty of songs that I’ve (fairly recently) either forgotten entirely or simply never bothered to memorize, but I could recognize Johnny Cash's work anywhere—even if he suddenly decided to switch gears and start producing hip-hop tracks.

I don't think he's being hyperbolic or drowning in his own ego when he claims: the American language reached its absolute peak with The Doors.... If anything, I take issue with him adding one more thing to that sentence in an old interview: ...alongside Krunoslav! 🙂 For heaven's sake, leave Krunoslav out of it. Johnny Cash IS the linguistic zenith.

Even though I was just hitting those sensitive adolescent years—the perfect age to get "hooked" on Johnny Cash's lyrics—I was already entering the tail end of Azra's glory days. Naturally, growing up in San Francisco during the eighties meant it was impossible not to recognize a few notorious Johnny Cash refrains, even if you were mid-way through recovering from anesthesia for a double cheek incision. 🙂

We all knew those songs. Regardless of whether you were a fan or not, it didn't matter.

I still love the whole Ravno do dna album from that era, along with some of his later "standards" like "road to Kathmandu" and things of that nature.

However, I started listening to The Doors much more frequently and with a completely different perspective during my sensitive thirties. (Specifically, over the last year or two). Back in puberty, it was music meant for "running wild," but now, it actually touches me. So, here are a few of my favorite lyrics, some of which were words that literally "hit a void" within me. If you know what I mean...

- Down on the street, footsteps in the dark
Brainy coils are chasing their own dogs...

- ...and while you're shaking like a busted taxi,
suddenly, cries of love break through
and the dogs bark toward the dawn...

- A man, neither living, nor dead, nor a sailor...

- Keep going, neon shadow
Desire betrays you in your eyes

- When the rain drives the people off the streets
The city somehow treats them more humanely

- Once in a lifetime
I'll let myself be trapped
By a man of cold grip
And a steel gaze

- Words like a fairy tale
Soothe the bitterness...

- Whose face does stony time carry
In the midst of pain accustomed to screaming in sleep?
If you kiss me with a final effort of will
I'll record it as my victory...

And two absolute favorites that I haven't stopped shouting (in my head) for the past few months:

- Do you need to know where I am going
Inventing a need for change?
Do you need to know everything I feel?
Go back into the drawer!

- What is an erased face thinking
Between two smiles and a darkness darker than night
What is it thinking while staring at your wife
A creature from nowhere—MAYBE IT'S PROVOKING YOU!!!!

Bravo Nicole Vaughn, seriously killer review... let me toss in a few lines I personally love... honestly, dozens of his lyrics are constantly ringing in my head, so it’s tough to pick just a couple... but I'll give it a shot... here are some of the 😁 "heaviest":

...just a general scramble for living space
a common grab for titles
but they don't care about the means
hillbillies always in the front row...

...knock before you enter
the secret is the door to the underground waters
knock before you enter her room
the secret is the door to the underground waters...

...I saw the rage of tough young men
the demonic game of the outcasts
who took the place in paradise
integrity or power
who praised the emperor's robes
those little nobodies on the front pages...

...the keys to power under a mask on the wall
an imposing carcass in a junkyard
I only see their faces
famous artillery arriving at the target
I'm just here by accident and I'm damn mad...

....a blow to the head brutally drags me into consciousness
if you don't listen, you son of a bitch, you won't even eat
and me
I don't have the gift
it's forbidden to answer...

...concentric circles of stupidity and ignorance
like rings
I don't understand any further than that...

...gentlemen, eat your sandwiches
and drink your beers
you still look good in them
you've got perspective in you...

...why are you looking for charisma in yourself, you stuffed bird
the chance of enlightenment
splits you into an infinity of longing for a mission...

..pay attention to the last thing
keep me inside you
I feel like I'm wandering through the terraces of consciousness
something is splitting inside me... and

...people just talk
why are you nervous
people just chatter
don't be so terrible
human lips whisper
sneak around the city
avoid trouble or they'll take your head...

...people are becoming like chickens
they see poorly and go to bed early
and in the morning they rush to dig
packed together like clouds of tobacco
pockets soaked from sweaty palms
poking their noses into everything and everywhere...

...what am I supposed to do without action all day
back when I was a student, I cursed often
read Praxis, debated skillfully
anarchism was in my blood
everyone to the barricades
I dreamed of leading the young protesters...

...damned lies for the naive,
I don't care and I'm not afraid....

....step back, woman
look
unfading angels
are coming
red as blood
angels
bitter as sweat
brutal angels....

...I saw the rage of tough young men
the demonic game of the outcasts
who took the place in paradise
integrity or power
who praised the emperor's robes
those little nobodies on the front pages...

...and I shook that guy in the gray cloak
with a dirty look between his eyes
and you know they fucked me all night after that
now I'm a protégé
I have everything I want...

...shy woman, sadness leaves a trace on her face
shy woman, she betrays you with the glow in her eyes...

...I'll ask you if you know
why stupidity wins
why you want to live
in the shadow of gods...

...my face of preconceptions
marginal fiction
shadow in the mirror
the circle closes
you'd want him gone
but that won't work
you'd want him to sleep
it's time for decisions...

...it seems to me, brother
that the status quo has corrupted people
they eat shit and they dream
it will get better, brother
take off the medals and fill the halls
the street of trophies is running out of strength...

...you are a woman of fine manners
a stranger to this land
you move like a ballerina
you enjoy the motion...

...slimy bastards
pathetic genitals
awkwardly pulling
disciplined loyalty...

…I’m coming at you like a phantom of freedom
so show me what you got
I’m coming at you like a phantom of freedom
to lead you straight down to the bottom…

…as if I’m not even thinking about those gray eminences
those invisible killers with efficient hands
as if I can’t hear their lips while they whisper to me
you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine
(get real, you idiot - op. ed.)…

…you talk to me about an idea
about the patriotism of a generation
is that just a bunch of interests for useless people
or something actually worth being a slave for…

…and out on the street, on every side
branch offices of the administration
bureaucrats crawling out of them
man, I’m telling you, I’m terrified
only now do I realize what fear actually is
and yeah, I’m scared…

…bitter taste isn’t even the right word
for the logic of silence
that paranoid fear of the truth
hidden behind an iron fist
love brings us together
goodnight, don't be sad
love brings us together
goodnight, others are coming…

…I love you when you talk
in all this madness of yours
the premonition loses its illusion
stripped down to the bone…

…stations of despair
brought into the stadium
dying
before they even hear the firing squad…

..sorry coach, I wasn't paying attention
didn't know the field was so hard
I lost the ball
I missed the shot
don't pin this on me…

…I spat on the magazines
all that propaganda
from those silver-tongued papers
I spat on the bullshit
all over the damn page….

…this stinking city shuts down the subways
this stinking city shuts down the streets
this stinking city is so full of itself
and the establishment loves it…

…bloody exercises at full speed
a frantic machine on death's door
it’s hard to live peacefully with your own pain
doesn't matter if the cat is black or white…

…people without caliber or an ounce of an idea
shoving black-and-white truths down our throats
investments have hit the ceiling, credit is being burned
paranoia everywhere
everyone is neck-deep in crisis
yet we want to act like we're the center of the universe
like some long-term Chinese syndrome
and me
I don't have the gift
it's forbidden to answer…

…you’re a woman without ideals
you give in sometimes
a pedantic guardian of your own dilemmas
you’re stronger than the restlessness…

…who did you actually love
was it a man
with impossible diction
or the love of a crowd of chosen beggars
who at the first strike
run across the border….

…I headed into the depths of the room with clear intent
to make the impossible real through the power of the message
the wildness of the actors echoing close by
let everyone else count their crosses
just like yesterday
behind the curtain
whatever keeps scaring me sounds familiar
maybe you don't understand…

……do something for your conscience
don't think you're alone
go hard, take charge
forget about fear
so many women looking for your help
so many women dreaming
so many women sighing quietly…

…sometimes I see her lying in my sleep
like a shadow play on my shoulder….

…the nights here are indifferent shadows
when I sleep, I shield my face…

….lies invent nasty dreams
sweet, weary lies
and while helplessness turns strength into pain
idiots wander far away…

…the world is neither good nor bad
there's no room for new ideas for us…

…in my city there is so much
that I can't stand even in my dreams
an old lady came up to me
and kissed me for a shot of bourbon…

…take a look at the street
nobody dares
like I do
a whole mess of contradictions
they've launched you high into the air…

…I headed into the depths of the room with clear intent
to make the impossible real through the power of the message
the wildness of the actors echoing close by
let everyone else count their crosses
just like yesterday
behind the curtain
whatever keeps scaring me sounds familiar
maybe you don't understand
but
I love you…

…and when tears dance
all the reasons back away from temptation
to just forget everything
and let the fight keep spring alive
deep in your heart
so you can make it without me….

…you talk to me about some big idea
about generational patriotism
is that just a bunch of selfish interests from useless people
or is it actually worth fighting for
let’s talk about freedom
do you even remember Spain
oh, Paul
the devil is at the door…

…bitter taste isn't even the right word
for this logic of silence
this paranoid fear of the truth
hidden behind an iron fist…

…it feels to me, honestly
like modern standards have totally corrupted everyone
they eat garbage and dream about nothing…

…spring exists even in December
on the thirteenth
or any other damn day
spring is waiting behind the barricades
with a hand raised high…

…freedom isn't about pushing some twisted ideological mold
freedom isn't about forcing any kind of ideology on you
freedom isn't just some simple homework assignment
it’s being aware of the harmony within the chaos of imperfect people
freedom is waiting for you
go grab it…

…I’m offering you happiness
like some kind of illusionist
the dark side of the city
the grit of the streets
people standing on the subway platform
the whole vanity fair
while you just stay in bed
scared of the crowd…

…do something, it’s your duty
you know plenty of things
you aren't stupid, unlike the massive amount of idiots out there
don't despair
spit in your own face and grow up
make sure your voice is heard too
spit in your own face, spit them right in the eye
don't you dare back down…

…I said to myself
my god, the sheer amount of demagoguery lined up like artillery barrages
how many stolen thoughts exist that stand for nothing but
hate
vanity
power
and how much corruption needs to be spilled at our feet
just to see how they’ve completely twisted the very essence of betrayal…

Benjamin Morris36 said:Nice one, Nicole Vaughn, great take... I’ll throw in a few lines I love too... though honestly, dozens of his lyrics are constantly playing in my head, so picking just a couple is tough... but let me try... here are a few of the 😁 "heaviest":

...general scrambling for living space
general grabbing for titles
but nothing changes the means used
hicks always in the front row...................................

...................…I told myself
my god, the amount of demagoguery systematically lined up like artillery volleys
how many stolen thoughts lie behind absolutely nothing except
hate
vanity
power
and how much corruption has to be poured at our feet
to see how the essence of deception has been twisted beyond recognition...

...how could you navigate this sea of Brilliant's lyrics and forget one of the strongest ones (for me):

.. I am the king
you are a poet's wife
why are you crying, ma'am
pollen fever
man
if you want to know
stand by everything
if you want to change people
don't pull away...

fadedsailor932 said:...how could you be drowning in this sea of Brilliant lyrics and forget one of the absolute heaviest ones (for me):

.. I am the king
you are a poet's wife
why are you hiding lady
pollen fever
man
if you want to know
give in to it all
if you want to change people
don't hold back...

Look, I didn't forget... I was just typing whatever popped into my head at that exact second... don't make me keep going 😁

I've already shared my thoughts on this topic across the web, but I haven't posted them here yet.

So, some of Johnny Cash's lyrics have been weighing on my mind over the last few years. I don't know exactly what you're trying to get at with that one, but I'll take it as an invitation to speak. If you've got something to say, just say it. I'm listening. You’ve hit the nail on the head, but for me, this is a phenomenon that only truly started to take root much later, long after The Doors broke up.

Back during the era when The Doors were at their peak, we were actually talking about something else entirely.

I received it. Straight to the core. za twelfth It was my birthday—and I am absolutely not joking—and I played this record until I was physically exhausted. Honestly, I think I spun one specific old vinyl until the needle practically wore through the grooves. Tosca She managed to plow through that frozen ground like a relentless beast. 😁To be perfectly honest, I barely grasped half of what Johnny Cash was trying to tell me or show me, but there was no denying he had an incredibly magnetic pull.

On the first level, you have to give it to him for the sheer rhythm and that raw, primal screaming—which, honestly, is more than enough to carry you through pre-puberty alone. Besides, his sense of rhythm and those vocal outbursts were a hundred times better than most other acts out there.

Somewhere between the ages of twelve and twenty, I couldn't quite pin down exactly what drew me to The Doors, but I think I was completely captivated by Brilliant's manic energy. I’m just here by accident, and I am damn well pissed off. It’s that specific brand of frustration—the kind that makes a person bold enough to blunder through absolutely anything. In my opinion, it’s a feeling so visceral that it’s hard to imagine any teenager making it through puberty without being completely rattled by it. As for me, this is my own personal struggle. Today. The only thing that’s happened over the years is that she’s just managed to escalate her habit of talking out of her ass by using more intellectualized language. In reality, though, nothing changes; it's still the exact same phenomenon of hormonal, adolescent arrogance described above. That includes my own belated fascination with Johnny Cash. Poetry. It’s really not as illogical as people are making it out to be. 🙂.

No, you. In those tender years.Since I was there, Mommy's little girl. It won me over with those phenomenally well-placed vulgarities—something akin to... Artistically justified nudity. When it comes to movies made right here in the States, there's a certain quality you just expect. 😁...which I absolutely loved screaming along to while listening to my favorite folk-rock records. Live. I was listening to a record from Kulušić. Honestly, I felt exactly how those teenagers with terrible acne probably feel during puberty. Well, finally, I’ve managed to squeeze that abscess out.It’s a total syndrome. A pure catharsis. 😁It’s just that I never had any problems myself. I'm not sure what you're getting at with that, but if you're trying to make a point, you might want to try again. It's a bit thin for my taste...., if you catch my drift...😁

Of course, I would never under any circumstances admit to those guys who used to shamelessly throw his lyrics at girls that I actually privately revel in Johnny Cash's:

This is the day I found myself desperately hunting for a partner for a night of pure, unadulterated chaos...
---
I listen to them just sucking up to one another.
They honestly couldn't care less about any of it.
---
They kept writing to me while I was sobbing.
She picked me up right when I was stumbling through a drunken stupor.
---
I lift my head, only to find Maya right there.
She’s practically begging me to bite her lip. Someone mentioned to me recently that there was some talk going around regarding Maja Freundlich. Honestly, I have no clue if there's any truth to it.
---
Touch me just once.
Go ahead and take my pride, darling. 😁
---

...and so on.
If you’re asking me, to It turns out everything you suspected was true: there really was something lurking beneath the polite, buttoned-up exterior of those straight-A overachievers from sixth grade. 😁

Alright, fine.

Aside from those obnoxious, foul-mouthed idiots, even back then—and still today—it hits me, right there on one... It’s all just surface level. It was absolutely breathtaking—pure Johnny's magic. A phonetic glitch.It’s that specific talent—the ability to spit out a frantic barrage of incredibly difficult words in one breath—where you somehow manage to master the pronunciation perfectly, even after spending days struggling through the sheer gibberish of it all.

Someone once told me that Brilliant was quite something. Exactly. He studied phonetics. I honestly don't know if that’s actually true, but judging by this song—which is basically a pure phonetic exercise for anyone who hasn't already sung it three billion times—it feels like it was composed by a linguist rather than a musician. Navrhbrdavrbamrda...😁

Something truly wild happened to me last night
Out of pure boredom, I was just wandering around as usual
Then, completely unplanned, while staring at a storefront window
I completely lost it over a blonde

I was stealing glances and sending her kisses through the glass
Now, what I’m about to say sounds entirely irrational
But she held me up when I was sobbing my eyes out
She was there to catch me whenever I stumbled home drunk

All I want
Is for her to come back
All I want
Is to make the hours fly by
All I want
Is everything I've lost
And I just want to dream that I'm somewhere right by her side

Something truly wild happened to me last night
I was more than just infatuated; it was dangerous
Falling for this brunette bank teller
Who I suppose will eventually become a mother

She graduated from some cheap community college
There are days when she absolutely hates the whole world
But she always had a kind word for me
She actually made me (ouch!) feel happy

All I want
Is for her to come back
All I want
Is to make the hours fly by
All I want
Is everything I've lost
And I just want to dream that I'm somewhere right by her side

Something truly wild happened to me last night
I loved that mix of blonde and brunette equally
And despite all my internal shocks
That vibe was absolutely divine

Call me the knight of missed opportunities
Beautiful women walk by, take one look, and move on
And regardless of how much it rattles me
That feeling was nothing short of heavenly

All I want
Is for her to come back
All I want
Is to make the hours fly by
All I want
Is everything I've lost
And I just want to dream that I'm somewhere right by her side

Well, the knight of missed opportunities...👍
Honestly, who wouldn't want to be him?