Showing posts with label Mr. Mister. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mr. Mister. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Poison -- "Every Rose Has Its Thorn"

Thanks to faithful readers Steveo and Amy for this recommendation. Here's a link to the video -- it's rather benign save for a few gratuitous girl-lying-in-bed-in-her-underwear shots and a too-scantily-clad Bret Michaels.

Fun fact! Poison's Web site is www.poisonweb.com, which in addition to sounding like a fan site for black widow spiders, answers the age-old question of what one gets at a Poison concert. The answer? "Passion! Fun! Fury! Intensity! All in all, you get what you get at a Poison concert!" That last sentence earns this post the coveted "logical fallacies" tag. And, I don't know why anyone would ever ask what they do not get at a Poison concert, but the band unhelpfully explains that "(y)ou get no predictability and Poison likes it that way!" I can make one prediction: You will get some awesomely bad lyrics if the band plays "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," although there is, of course, no way to predict if they will (hint: they will).

We both lie silently still / In the dead of the night / Although we both lie close together / We feel miles apart inside

I like the ominous ticking clock and rolling thunder that lead into this opening verse. Very dramatic.

Was it something I said or something I did / Did my words not come out right? / Though I tried not to hurt you / Though I tried

I'm sure you tried really hard, Bret. Your track record with relationships is pretty stellar, after all. *cough*rock of love*cough* Who said that?

But I guess that’s why they say / Every rose has its thorn / Just like every night has its dawn / Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song / Every rose has its thorn

So let me get this analogy straight. Rose:night::thorn:dawn? Sooo ... the rose is supposed to be the good thing and the thorn the bad thing. I feel fairly confident in that. So, by that logic, the night is good and the dawn is ... bad? So you're telling me I spent all that time on your stupid black widow spider Web site trying to find a logical fallacy when it was right here in the lyrics all along?!?! Arrrgh.

Also, does every cowboy sing a sad, sad song? Really? Every single cowboy? What about this guy?He wrote "Here Comes Santa Claus" AND "Frosty the Snowman" AND "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," for Jeff's sake. If those are sad, sad songs, then you are clearly not Bret Michaels, but in fact the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. He is also quite clearly a cowboy ... apparently, "Public Cowboy #1," even.

Yeah it does

It does?!

I listen to our favorite song / Playing on the radio / Hear the DJ say love’s a game of easy come and easy go / But I wonder does he know / Has he ever felt like this

Yeah, he probably has. Unless he is like 8 years old or something. Hey, Bret Michaels, I have an idea. You should talk to my good pal Lou Gramm. He told me that in his life, he has had heartache and pain. Or maybe my BFF Steve Perry. He's kinda caught between confusion and pain right now. They can sympathize with you. And when you're ready to move on, give my longtime fuck-buddy Richard Page a call. He can help you get on with your life. See? Isn't this easy? Maybe one day you will even go on to host a TV show in which 20 skanky women debase themselves for your unique affections. (Disclaimer: I have not actually ever seen "Rock of Love," so this may not be an accurate representation.)

And I know that you’d be here right now / If I could have let you know somehow

If there was only some way for men to let women know how they feel, other than writing cheesy, overwrought power ballads. It's like that Simpsons episode in which a team of polar expeditionaries march into the Kwik-E-Mart with bags of ice and tell Apu that they lost four more men on that particular journey, to which Apu replies, "If you can think of a better way to get ice, I'd like to hear it!"

Though it’s been a while now / I can still feel so much pain / Like the knife that cuts you, the wound heals / But the scar, that scar remains

Bret Michaels: Guys, guys, let's get serious! Stop making those endangered pandas take shots of Jagermeister and help me with these lyrics. I need a simile for something that, like, cuts you.
C.C. Deville: Uhhh ... a balloon?
Ricki Rockett: A candy bar!
Bret Michaels: No, no, no, come on, guys. Well, I guess this is why I'm the lyricist. Better put on my thinking cap.
(Fade out to a shot of large clocks with hands turning rapidly, indicating the passage of time. Fade back in to Bret Michaels, surrounded by empty cups of coffee, crumpled scraps of paper, and an ashtray full of cigarette butts, sporting a two-day beard.)
Bret Michaels: I've got it! A knife!
Endangered Panda: (in a British accent) Good show, old chap!!

Also, the wound heals like the knife that cuts you? How does that make sense?

I know I could have saved our love that night / If I’d known what to say / Instead of making love / We both made our separate ways

I see you beat me to the punch on that whole talking-to-Steve-Perry thing.

But now I hear you found somebody new / And that I never meant that much to you / To hear that tears me up inside / And to see you cuts me like a knife

Really? Going back to the old "cuts like a knife" simile again? You just used it two verses ago, and it was bad the first time. For shame, Bret Michaels. I hope your piles of money and thousands of women willing to have sex with you at the drop of a hat help you sleep at night. What's that? They do? Oh. OK then.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Mr. Mister -- "Broken Wings"

First, let's all bask in the awesomelybadness of this video. Around the 1:48 mark, lead singer Richard Page appears to be drinking out a woman's purse. The whole scene in the church is absolutely priceless, and the bird's little head shimmy at 4:36 makes me giggle for some reason. Go watch the whole thing right now. It's totally worth it. The hairdos, the excessive emoting ... just ... just perfect.

And now, before I go launch awesomelybadvideos.blogspot.com, let's do this thing!

Baby, don't understand / Why we can't just hold on to each other's hands

This one is easy. Birds do not have hands. Next line.

This time might be the last, I fear / Unless I make it all too clear / I need you so, ohhhh...

Driving around aimlessly and looking emotionally overwrought probably isn't going to do the trick. Maybe he should try talking to this avian goddess who has bewitched him so, or give her some erotically packaged birdseed or something. Am I taking this bird thing too far? Yes!

Take these broken wings / And learn to fly again, learn to live so free

I don't get what's going on here. Does he want to save his relationship, or is the relationship over and he's trying to get on with his life? I mean, this whole bird/wings/flying metaphor is exceedingly clever and original, but maybe it's too clever by half, or something. I think I'm running off the rails here.

When we hear the voices sing / The book of love will open up and let us in

This line just really doesn't make sense in any context.

Baby, I think tonight / We can take what was wrong and make it right


Brilliant songwriting. Nothing more to say.

Baby, it's all I know / That you're half of the flesh and blood that makes me whole


I am starting to wonder what Mr. Page was drinking out of that purse.

So the song then goes on for nearly three more minutes, without any significant variation in the lyrics. I think my brain is as broken as Richard Page's wings.