I was listening to RTE Gold the other day. And on came a song from 1967.
It was Elenore, by The Turtles.
I will always remember that song because from the very first time I heard it, the forced rhyme made me cringe:
“Elenore, gee, I think you’re swell,
And you really do me well,
You’re my pride and joy et cetera
“Elenore, can I take the time,
To ask you to speak your mind,
Tell me that you love me better.”
One of the worst rhymes ever, I thought.
But then, I remembered Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain:”
“You walked into the party
Like you were walking onto a yacht
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye,
Your scarf it was apricot”
Bad. But The Police were worse with “Don’t Stand So Close To Me.”
“It’s no use, he sees her, he starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in that book by Nabokov.”
Ah lads. Still, I think Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl” is probably worse again:
“You know I feel so dirty when they start talking cute,
I wanna tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot.”
And I wonder if Noel Gallagher had a bottle of something when he wrote “She’s Electric.”
“She’s got a sister, and god only knows how I’ve missed her,
On the palm of her hand is a blister.”
Neil Diamond is up there for lousy lyrics in “I Am I Said:”
“I am, I said, to no one there,
And no one heard it all, not even the chair.”
But I’m giving first prize to Ringo, for one of his first song-writing efforts for The Beatles.
“Don’t Pass Me By.”
“I’m sorry that I doubted you, I was so unfair,
You were in a car crash and you lost all your hair.”
I’d love to know what he was smoking at the time.