jerusalem just froze over

By Robbie on August 25, 2009

I've posted all lyrics for "50-vc. Doberman" songs (except the covers) on the "Songs" page. Now you can find out what profundities I am uttering about Aristotle in "Arthur Koestler's Eyes" and what nonsense about the Oakland Raiders in the bridge of "Coastal Girls." 

Thanks to over-the-top fan Paul, who sent me his efforts at transcribing the songs, very neatly organized and alphabetized and pretty close to the truth, too. If he hadn't taken the time I am sure I never would have gotten the job done, but tweaking his was tons easier than DIY-ing mine. Tons funnier too, as the lost-in-translation amusement value was high. For instance, here's part of my verse from "The World is Full of Pretty Girls":

Well, I was working in a roots-rock beer joint

Down in Fort Smith Arkansas

I met a plump bartender, I could tell she was into

This rugged alt-country star

I couldn't see she was trying to use me

To get a leg up in the race...

And here's Paul's:

Well, I was working in a roots-rock restaurant

Down in Portsmouth, Arkansas

I met a plumb bartender, and I could see she was into

This rugged old country star

I couldn't see she was trying to use me

To get a leg up in the face...

Do you guys that think my lyrics are so hot think I am singing stuff like this? 

From "Moses on the Mountain," mine:

Aaron in the valley, oh

  Moses on the mountain.

Paul's:

Barren in the balley, oh

Moses on the mountain.

My song "Stolen" has some parts where the guitars and cymbals envelop the singing pretty thoroughly. My lines, "The news has the story, a kid from the Guard/Downed in a desert crossfire," reduced to an MP3 and fed through another man's brain, comes out: "Amused at the story we kicked from a guard/Down, desert crossfire!" Gradually, as I waded through Paul's version of my songs, which in their orthography and painstakingness and creative subtlety signalled high intelligence, the suspicion began to gnaw at me that his mistaken words were better than my sweated-out ones. The following clinched it -- from "No Girls Allowed," mine:

Don't give me no child thing

No girl-gone-wild thing

The one I give a ring

Won't be giggling.

His:

Don't give me no child thing

No girl-gone-wild thing

The one I give a ring

Won't be a dingaling.

I bow to your Zen superiority, sir! It's officially "dingaling" from now on!