Song lyrics as poetry

I think Eminem's Lyrics are great poetry. There are more people around on this site who disagree than agree with me on that one though! I like the fact that he is brash and ruthless. http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,3604,434096,00.html jude "Cacoethes scribendi" http://www.judesworld.net

To me, many of Bono’s lyrics read like poetry. My example: Running to Stand Still - http://www.macphisto.net/u2lyrics/Running_To_Stand_Still.html Also Fabrizio di Andre'.

Wo! Someone's got to put a stop to this! Are you seriously telling me that if you came across the lyrics to 'Running To Stand Still' or 'Daniel' in the pages of a poetry book, having never experience the music, you'd think it was good stuff? I'm sorry, but I don't believe it. Lyrics are lyrics. What seems to convey emotional depth when sung mostly falls flat on the page by itself. Similarly, poetry often becomes awkwardly dense and inappropriate when set to music. They work in different contexts. There is *some* amount of crossover. Much of Leonard Cohen (though, much as I like him, his words are often poems set to music, rather than lyrics) and some elements of Dylan, for example. But most excellent lyricists are still not poets and, having never heard either of the above mentioned songs, the quoted lyrics make for pretty dire poetry. 'Daniel you're a star in the face of the sky'?? 'Do you still feel the pain of the scars that won't heal'?? 'You gotta cry without weeping, talk without speaking'?? Come off it, guys. Eminem's in a different realm again, being a rapper. ~ I'll Show You Tyrants * Fuselit * The Prowl Log * Woe's Woe

You feel strongly about this, eh Jack? Of course my perceptions are influenced by the song - and it's too late to separate them now. I could never read any of Bono's lyrics and not think of the song that goes with them. But I don't think the songs need to be great poety to have a poetical feel to them. The bottom line is that songs aren't poems, not in the traditional sense, and much more is conveyed with the music and voice. But they can still be poetical.

I guess I just don't see why we always reach for the accolade of 'poetical' to describe great lyrics. Can't they just be great lyrics? Lyricists achieve different ends and effects to poets. Loads of lyrics I think are superb. Really like Dylan's 'Dirge' and Cohen's 'Lover Lover Lover' in particular. I think it's a bit of a disservice to write them down here though, because they just don't work as well if you don't hear the song first. Hmm. How about this by Two Gallants? You might have seen me 'neath the pool hall lights. Well, baby, I go back each night. If you got a throat I got a knife. Steady rollin', but I keep goin'. I don't mind how quick the seasons change. You know to me they's every one the same. The sweetest sunshine drips the drain. Death's comin', and I'm still runnin'. Well I come from the old town, baby, too late for you to save me. If I remain then I'm to blame. But if you should ever need me, I'll go where'er you lead me. It's all the same, the same old game. My lovin' lady, she's a ball and chain. I still can travel but my speed has changed. I bring the money, I take the blame. Steady rollin', and I keep goin'. But I shot my wife today, dropped her body in the Frisco bay. I had no choice - it was the only way. Death's comin', and I'm still runnin'. Well I come from the old town, baby, It's too late for you to save me. If I remain then I'm to blame. But if you should ever need me, I'll go where'er you lead me. It's all the same, the same old game. Out waltzin' with the Holy Ghost, from the Bowery to the Barbary Coast. The land I'm from you know I love the most. Steady rollin', but I keep goin'. And everyday is just another town. The more I search you know the less I've found. Me, I'm a sucker, just a slave to sound. Death's comin', and I'm still runnin'. Well I come from the old town, baby, where all the kids are crazy. If I remain then I'm to blame. But if you should ever need me, I'll go where'er you lead me. It's all the same, the same old game. ~ I'll Show You Tyrants * Fuselit * The Prowl Log * Woe's Woe

How did that Underworld song go? Lager, lager, lager, lager, lager, lager… etc Brilliant! No, seriously! But only in context of the music, though. I used to think Depeche Mode were the most poetic(al) of bands… Death is everywhere There are flies on the windscreen for a start Reminding us we could be torn apart Tonight Okay, I wouldn’t say it’s great poetry, but it worked for me. Nowadays I’m into much deeper and more poignant stuff, like Nine Inch Nails (!). There are lots of these Tonight’s and Oh Yeah’s and Baby’s in lyrics, aren’t there? I seem to recall Neil Diamond has a particular thing for Tonight… I suppose this is something which separates poetry from lyrics: words which are just there as a kind of musical filler. I’m sure some of you poetry aficionados out there could find me some real poetry which has Tonight’s and Baby’s and Oh Yeah’s, though… So how do you define? How do you separate poetry from lyrics? (ignoring, for now, the notion of “good” or “bad” poetry/lyrics) It’s too easy to say things like, “Lyrics are words written to music,” because in my limited (very) experience of such things, isn’t there something out there called (something like) “Physical Poetry”? Or “Performance Poetry”? Which can only work in the context of gestures, movement, sounds, even music? How is this sort of thing “poetry” and not “lyrics”? Lager, lager, lager, lager, lager, lager… Yes, I am feeling a bit thirsty now. Shame the pubs aren’t open yet. Oh well, tea run… ~ PEPS ~ PS. Stephen King often quotes a load of crappy lyrics, which are poignant and “poetical” in the context of the story……

I always think Handsome Family lyrics would make perfectly good prose. Weightless Again We stopped for coffee in the Redwood forest. Giant dripping leaves. Spoons of powdered cream. I wanted to kiss you, but wasn't sure how. Like those indians lost in the rainforest, forced to drag burning wood wherever they went. They had all forgotten how to start a fire. This is why people OD on pills and jump from the Golden Gate Bridge. Anything to feel weightless again. Those poor, lost indians-when the white men found them, most died of TB; the rest went insane. In our motel room you're drinking Slice and gin, reading Moby Dick on the other bed. Remember the first time we slept together? You said it felt like when you learned to float. http://www.handsomefamily.com/Nlyrics.html

Frank Black (pixies) plays with words well. I love the way he invents words too. Nick Drake's Cello Song is a touching piece of poetry, although I think that the majority of his lyrics were rather, um, adolescent, immature...kinda thing. There's nothing more mind-teasing than the incomprehensible eagerly avowed - Dennet

"How do you separate poetry from lyrics?" Most lyrics only work when put together with music. Nirvana's Nevermind contains some extremely powerful lyrics based on the context that you hear them in but if you performed any of the lyrics as poems, they'd be laughably bad. "Smells like teen spirit: Load up on guns Bring your friends Its fun to lose And to pretend Shes overboard Myself assured I know I know A dirty word Hello (x 16) With the lights out its less dangerous Here we are now Entertain us I feel stupid and contagious Here we are now Entertain us A mulatto An albino A mosquito My libido Yea Im worse at what I do best And for this gift I feel blessed Our little group has always been And always will until the end Hello (x 16) With the lights out its less dangerous Here we are now Entertain us I feel stupid and contagious Here we are now Entertain us A mulatto An albino A mosquito My libido Yea And I forget Just what it takes And yet I guess it makes me smile I found it hard Its hard to find Oh well, whatever, nevermind Hello (x 16) With the lights out its less dangerous Here we are now Entertain us I feel stupid and contagious Here we are now Entertain us A mulatto An albino A mosquito My libido Yea" I defy anyone to perform that a poetry open mike night, even as a joke but it's a brilliant song.

I seem to remember Frank Black saying he hated it whenever anyone said his lyrics were poetical - or even had any kind of meaning! Intentional or not though, he does indeed know how to string a few words together... ~PEPS~ “Underlay is overrated."

As a musician myself (oh yeah, i know about fitting lyrics to music) I can relate to Black's method of writing. He does what (if they were completely honest like Black is) most songwriters do - get the music sorted and then worry about piecing the words into the melody. Frank Black complained that writing song lyrics for him was a real chore. He'd sit at a desk, put the music on and then scribble away. Like I said earlier, even inventing words to work in harmony with the melody when there were no other words (in the english language, or spanish) to fit. Noel Gallagher is a prime example. His lyrics don't mean shit when read as a whole but he's clever at little line-bites that appear to have meaning. One of the prime examples of tip-of-the-tongue lyrics is 'Yesterday'. I can't remember the word the McCartney used originally to fit with the melody he dreamt but it certainly wasn't 'yesterday'. He only came up with that word because the one he'd fit to the basic melody was so ridiculous that it wouldn't have worked. There's nothing more mind-teasing than the incomprehensible eagerly avowed - Dennet

Yes, I suppose "Last Tuesday" or "Tea Time on Friday" doesn't quite have the same rhythm to it. ~PEPS~ “Underlay is overrated."

Bukharin - is that really the words? You're right, brilliant song but I've often wondered what he was saying in certain parts and was sure I was hearing wrong, espec the mosquito stuff. nobody

This is essentially right. Having looked at three different versions of the lyrics on the web, there's subtle differences between them but they're all agreed on "mulatto, albino, mosquito, libido" Is she 'overboard' or 'over bored', seems to be one question?

I think this: "Thousands are sailing Across the western ocean Where the hand of opportunity Draws tickets in a lottery Where e'er we go, we celebrate The land that makes us refugees From fear of priests with empty plates From guilt and weeping effigies And we dance" the last verse of Thousands are Sailing by The Pogues probably makes a decent bid to be poetry. A lot of The Pogues stuff does, for me. I reckon they're pretty underrated.

The Pogues, of course. Like Dylan heavily influenced by traditional folk music. nobody

'Nick Cave Dolls' by Bongwater Hi... Glad you called. Guess what I'm doing right now! Mmmm... That's right. I'm walking along Hollywood Boulevard. All I hear are people around me asking each other "Who's here? Who's here?" But... we know there aren't any stars out here. You know what I'd like right now? Mmmm... That's right. Chocolate cake with ice cream. Mmmm... Palm trees are swaying wildly around us. And the sky... Grows darker and darker... People are already on the streets. Some in terror, some in wonderment, Most... confused. You and I... We watch the funnel clouds hypnotically inch toward the ground, And upon touchdown, turn into atomic mushroom clouds and explode. A few spectators applaud. Scared shitless, we duck into the Spanish Pavilion, but... It's remarkably unremarkable. There's nothing much to do so, We go downstairs where... That's right. Nude and lingerie-clad girls are having a pose-athon. Guess what I do! That's right. I throw caution to the wind and peel off my girdle, And take my place on the red vinyl ottoman That stands in the middle of the lobby. The walls are covered in full-length mirrors. You have to admit the scene is pretty sexy. Then, I think to myself... "Is it politically correct to even be here?" I mean, look what happend to Dorothy Stratton. Then I decide... "Oh, the hell with it, I'm horny!" Just then, Jeff, the famous balding actor, Famous for his tattooed 'Rebel Rose', And loose-fitting Italian suits, walks by. He talks to us about... That's right. All the toys he buried in his backyard So noone else would play with them. He says one of his favorites is his Nick Cave Doll. I feel pity for the man, and hope one day He'll grow hair. Then... I think... "Wow! They have Nick Cave Dolls now... I waaaant ooone There's nothing more mind-teasing than the incomprehensible eagerly avowed - Dennet

Crikey - I fprgot about Jello Biafra. "Kinky Sex Makes The World Go 'Round" Greetings:This is the Secretary of War at the State Department of the United States We have a problem. The companies want something done about this sluggish world economic situation Profits have been running a little thin lately and we need to stimulate some growth Now we know there's an alarmingly high number of young people roaming around in your country with nothing to do but stir up trouble for the police and damage private property. It doesn't look like they'll ever get a job It's about time we did something constructive with these people We've got thousands of 'em here too. They're crawling all over The companies think it's time we all sit down, have a serious get-together- And start another war The President? He loves the idea! All those missiles streaming overhead to and fro Napalm People running down the road, skin on fire The Soviets seem up for it: The Kremlin's been itching for the real thing for years. Hell, Afghanistan's no fun So whadya say? We don't even have to win this war. We just want to cut down on some of this excess population Now look. Just start up a draft; draft as many of those people as you can. We'll call up every last youngster we can get our hands on, hand 'em some speed, give 'em an hour or two to learn how to use an automatic rifle and send 'em on their way Libya? El Salvador? How 'bout Northern Ireland? Or a "moderately repressive regime" in South America? We'll just cook up a good Soviet threat story in the Middle East-we need that oil We had Libya all ready to go and Colonel Khadafy's hit squad didn't even show up. I tell ya That man is unreliable. The Kremlin had their fingers on the button just like we did for that one Now just think for a minute-We can make this war so big-so BIG The more people we kill in this war, the more the economy will prosper We can get rid of practically everybody on your dole queue if we plan this right. Take every loafer on welfare right off our computer rolls Now don't worry about demonstrations-just pump up your drug supply. So many people have hooked themselves on heroin and amphetamines since we took over, it's just like Vietnam. We had everybody so busy with LSD they never got too strong. Kept the war functioning just fine It's easy. We've got our college kids so interested in beer they don't even care if we start manufacturing germ bombs again. Put a nuclear stockpile in their back yard, they wouldn't even know what it looked like So how 'bout it? Look-War is money. The arms manufacturers tell me unless we get our bomb factories up to full production the whole economy is going to collapse The Soviets are in the same boat. We all agree the time has come for the big one, so whadya say?!? That's excellent. We knew you'd agree The companies will be very pleased. There's nothing more mind-teasing than the incomprehensible eagerly avowed - Dennet

This is a sterile debate that's gone on for years and years and years, and will continue to go on. Almost as sterile as 'when is writing literature and when is it just writing'. I'm largely with Jack. Larkin's 'Aubade' is a great poem. So is Thomas's 'The Force That Through The Green Fuse Drives The Flower'. I wouldn't want to hear either of them sung, though, or set to music. It's the pure power of the words and the imagery that make them work. 'Daniel' is a song lyric. It rhymes. It tells a story. That doesn't make it poetry. My favourite ever song is The Beatles' 'A Little Help From My Friends'. It's a wonderful, clever song. But it's a lyric. It's not poetry in the sense that 'Aubade' or 'The Force' or 'The Waste Land' are. But what do I know? People can call whatever they want whatever they want. If people want to think that Patience Strong is a great poet and Lily Allen is a great songwriter, I ain't gonna argue.

I get the impression, Alan, that you pigeonhole verse as either 'poetry' or 'lyric'. Of course I may have just read you wrong, but there's no reason on earth why a poem can't be sung or a lyric recited. I'd agree that some stuff is better, maybe even demands, to be performed one or the other way. I suppose that most lyrics rhyme and have a stricter meter, but that doesn't always follow. Are ballads poems or lyrics? The famous collection of Scottish ballads collected and published by Francis James Child, (The English and Scottish Popular Ballads (1882-1898), and generally known as 'The Child Ballads'), were published without tunes, in other words, as poetry. They were subsequently set to tunes by Bronson, and most of the sung versions use his tunes. I have several antiquarian collections of ancient ballads but very few have tunes. All of the famous collectors of indiginous folk music, scholars such as Cecil Sharpe, Frank Kidson, Maude Karpeles, Percy Grainger, Frank Purslow, R.V Williams, Baring Gould, Hammond, Gardiner and Lucy Broadwood, collected their stuff from working people, mostly illiterates, such as farmworkers, fishermen and estate workers. Having collected the stuff, which was always sung unaccompanied, some collectors proceeded to 'gentrify' much of it and it was 'claimed' by antiquarian teachers, the clergy and other middle class literates, and performed at society gatherings, sometimes by the original performers who were looked upon as serf-like curiosities. This usurption of working class 'art' was compounded in the late 50's - 70's by the hundreds of folk clubs that sprang up during the 'folk revival' and run mostly by left-wing teachers and communists. There has been a certain snobbery surrounding the definition of what is and what isn't poetry, with the literati claiming the high ground and being nothing short of pompous about it. For many of these snobs rhyming poetry is considered 'school yard' stuff and not worthy of serious consideration. That is patent rubbish, but I know there are some members here that think that way.

I've certainly got nothing against rhyming verse, Missi. Most of my own stuff uses rhyme - but then, I'm not sure I'd want to call what I do poetry! I agree - there is a lot of snobbery. People look down their noses at the likes of John Hegley, John Cooper Clark, Lemn Sissay and Benjamin Zephaniah. I love their stuff. I guess it just comes down to a matter of individual taste and definition. I agree with Jack that there are lyrics that cross over - REM's 'World Leader Pretend' is a song that I can get just as much out of by reading it as a poem; likewise, Trent Reznor's 'Hurt'. I suppose where I'd make the distinction is that a poem - like 'Aubade' - is something that works purely on that level, without the need for musical or, necessarily, vocal embellishment. A lyric, on the other hand, is something that needs those other things. I've read so many lyrics printed on the sleeves of albums and thought 'That's really naff' - then I've heard the song and loved it. It all fits. Counterwise, when I heard Grey's 'Elegy' set to music, I wanted to throw!

"I guess I just don't see why we always reach for the accolade of 'poetical' to describe great lyrics. Can't they just be great lyrics?" I don't think anyone is 'always' trying to do this. I did it to take part in the thread - beyond that, its not given much thought. And besides, all great lyrics aren't poetical, and not nearly all poems would make great lyrics. Maybe we should ask the songwriters what they think - I'm sure we'd get a wide range of answers, varying from person to person, song to song. Maybe this debate is sterile.

Gah, I just tried to type out some song lyrics that I like thinking, yes they are good poetry, but... nope they read... not as good as I imagined. Bright Eyes I know that it is freezing but I think we have to walk I keep waving at the taxis they keep turning their lights off But Julie knows a party at some actor's west side loft Supplies are endless in the evening by the morning they'll be gone When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend I get a coffee and the paper Have my own conversations with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like shit And I know you have a heavy heart I can feel it when we kiss So many men stronger than me have throw their backs out trying to lift it But me I'm not a gamble you can count on me to split The love I sell you in the evening by the morning won't exist You're looking skinny like a model with your eyes all painted black You just keep going to the bathroom always say you'll be right back Well, it takes one to know one, kid, I think you got it bad What's so easy in the evening by the morning's such a drag I got a flask inside my pocket we can share it on the train And if you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same Well we might die from medication but we sure killed all the pain But what was normal in the evening by the morning seems insane And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did It's not something I would recommend but it is one way to live Cause what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is It was so simple in the moonlight now it's so complicated although this I like Bright Eyes 'Grey light new day leaks through the window Some old song comes on the alarm clock radio We walk the forty blocks to the middle Of the place we heard that everything would be And there were barricades to keep us off the street But the crowd kept pushing forward Till they swallowed the police Yeah, they went wild, yeah, they went wild yeah, they went wild, yeah, they went wild We left before the dust had time to settle And all the broken glass swept off the avenue Ana all the way home held your camera like a bible Just wishing so bad that it held some kind of truth And I stood nervous next to you in the dark room You drop the paper in the water And it all begins to bloom Yeah, they go wild, yeah, they go wild Yeah, they go wild, yeah, they go wild And just when I get so lonesome I can't speak I see some flowers on a hillside Like a wall of new TVs'

By far the most beautiful and poetic song I think is Don McLean's Vincent: Starry, starry night. Paint your palette blue and grey, Look out on a summer's day, With eyes that know the darkness in my soul. Shadows on the hills, Sketch the trees and the daffodils, Catch the breeze and the winter chills, In colors on the snowy linen land. Now I understand what you tried to say to me, How you suffered for your sanity, How you tried to set them free. They would not listen, they did not know how. Perhaps they'll listen now. Starry, starry night. Flaming flowers that brightly blaze, Swirling clouds in violet haze, Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue. Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain, Weathered faces lined in pain, Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. Now I understand what you tried to say to me, How you suffered for your sanity, How you tried to set them free. They would not listen, they did not know how. Perhaps they'll listen now. For they could not love you, But still your love was true. And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night, You took your life, as lovers often do. But I could have told you, Vincent, This world was never meant for one As beautiful as you. Starry, starry night. Portraits hung in empty halls, Frameless head on nameless walls, With eyes that watch the world and can't forget. Like the strangers that you've met, The ragged men in the ragged clothes, The silver thorn of bloody rose, Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow. Now I think I know what you tried to say to me, How you suffered for your sanity, How you tried to set them free. They would not listen, they're not listening still. Perhaps they never will...

Not sure if the debate is completely sterile. I think 'when is something a poem and not a song lyric?' takes us into far more interesting areas that 'what is poetry?' When something's clearly intended to be a poem and poets describe it as not being poetry then - whatever else this tells you - it tells you the poet doesn't like that piece of writing. In this case it's different. There's lots of song lyrics that I like but don't think are poetry. The 'Bright Eyes' think is an interesting one because he's clearly does write lyrics that are poetic - and uses lots of poetic devices - but the first song quoted definitely wouldn't work too well at a poetry reading.

I don't think this debate is sterile at all, what a thing to say that was Alan_Benefit. It's really interesting to explore. I've been putting lyrics on screen for a bit (of songs I love) and trying to make them look like a good poem. I love the Jolie Holland (& Sammy Parton/Syd Barrett) song "The Littlest Birds". Whenever I hear it I think, that is so poetic, so beautifully crafted wordwise. I can't look at it without hearing her Jolie Holland's beautiful voice singing it (on Catalpa). It probably looks like a load of crap to anyone who's not heard the song, sadly. Or does it? "Well, I feel like an old hobo I'm sad, lonesome and blue I was fair as a summer's day now the summer days are through you pass through places and places pass through you but you carry them with you on the soles of your travelling shoes well, I love you so dearly I love you so clearly I wake you up in the morning so early just to tell you I got the wandering blues I got the wandering blues and I'm going to quit these rambling ways one of these days soon its times like these I feel so small and wild like the rambling footsteps of a wandering child and I'm lonesome as a lonesome whippoorwill singing these blues with a warble and a trill but I'm not too blue to fly no I'm not too blue to fly cause the littlest birds sing the prettiest songs I love you so dearly, I love you so fearlessly, I wake you up in the morning so early just to tell you I've got the wandering blues and I don't want to leave you I love you through and through. I left my baby on a pretty blue train and I sang my songs to the cold and the rain and I had those wandering blues, and I sang those wandering blues and I'm gonna quit these rambling ways one of these days soon And I sing the littlest birds sing the prettiest songs. I don't care if the sun don't shine and I don't care if nothing is mine and I don't care if I'm nervous with you I'll do my loving in the wintertime"

ps. apologies for my bad grammar/sloppy writing. Just had a tooth operation and it's numbed my poor brain. The more I think about this question, the more impossible I find it to think of a brilliant song that also makes a good poem on the page. Am just watching Lene Lovich (of that squeaky 'Lucky Number' single in the early 80s) on the telly, and wondering how one would write that "ah oh eh ooh" noise in a poem. It's near-spoken as a song but is pretty unwrite-down-able. In fact it's a crap song, so why am I talking about it? Paul McCartney published a book of his "poems and lyrics" called "Blackbird Singing" five years ago, in which his lyrics are printed as if they are poems. On the back, Adrian Mitchell tells us to "clean out your head" and that "Paul... is a popular poet". Have any of you read it - if so what did you think? Also, I recently went to a John Hegley "gig" - (a proper gig with music and so on) in which Mr Hegley sang some of his poems. It was quite good. But maybe they were really songs....

_I_ think you are taking the idea too literally. The question wasn't 'are lyrics poetry and poetry lyrics'. Archergirl said, what songs move you, and what is it about the song that does so? Why do birds sing up above? Why do they fall in lo-o-ove? _I_, personally, am in favour of Engelbert Humperdinck as a lyrical master. He makes me weep tears of joy.

I think, even when you get to Brighteyes, there's a tension between good songwriting and good poetry that is very, very hard to resolve. It's hard to get away with repetition of whole lines in poetry, for instance, but a really good move in most songs. I wrote music for a friend's poem a while back, and ended up repeating one of the stanzas for use as a chorus, but even then, it didn't lend itself to a song structure. Obviously, metred poems will convert better. Cohen's done a great version of Byron's 'Go No More A' Roving' on his latest album. ~ I'll Show You Tyrants * Fuselit * The Prowl Log * Woe's Woe

I'll never forget my first lesson of English Lit GSCE when our teacher asked: 'Who likes poetry?' No-one put their hand up. 'Who likes songs?' he asked. Everyone put their hand up. 'Well then, you all like poetry, don't you?' He was a self-satisfied prick. And an idiot. I'm no poerty expert (at all) but I think this is an interesting case, it's a cappella, and it's in foreign. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTZ2Zhe81zk (ignore the vid, it's just some girl with a camera - how times have changed from the hairbrush and mirror!) But is it poetry? Dunno.

Gotta give him full marks for attention-getting though, Ben! Galfreda - maybe you're right, and it ain't sterile at all. It's certainly provoked a lot of discussion here - which is good.

Some songs work as poetry, others don't. Maybe we just view them as unable to be poems because we just know them as lyrics. If a song in question was never a song, would we consider it poetry?

Dylan publishes his lyrics in poetry form, ( ie. no music), and it mostly reads well. Even friends who aren't familiar with his recordings like some of it, and they must be judging it as poetry.

http://www.freewebs.com/michaeljamestreacy/index.htm There's sometimes a blurring of the boundaries between song lyrics and poetry. As stated north of here... 'Vincent' is a prime example of this. The music can make me weep and the words can also make me weep (silly sod that I am). Also... (catching one's breath)... Bukharinswotsaname's highlighting of The Pogue's, 'Thousands Are Sailing'... is also a classic case of this blurring of boundaries. To quote a bit more... In Manhattan's desert twilight In the death of afternoon We stepped hand in hand on Broadway Like the first man on the moon And "The Blackbird" broke the silence As you whistled it so sweet And in Brendan Behan's footsteps I danced up and down the street Then we said goodnight to Broadway Giving it our best regards Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan Dear old Times Square's favorite bard Then we raised a glass to JFK And a dozen more besides When I got back to my empty room I suppose I must have cried Oh yes! Being the big daft so-and-so that I am, that I am, I aspire to poetry like this (although my punctuation is probably a bit better).

I love 'Vincent' as a song, but it makes for trite poetry ('darkness in my soul'? Argh!) It does use some poetic devices though - lots of imagery. Dylan's stuff *can* work on the page, it's true, but he's a prime example, I think, of someone who is too nifty a songwriter to allow his rhyming couplets to scan in written form. In 'Hurricane', for instance, you've got lines like, "Up to some paradise/Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice", which are obviously not of the same metrical length when put on the page, but are more interesting/memorable when sung precisely *because* of that. ~ I'll Show You Tyrants * Fuselit * The Prowl Log * Woe's Woe

Well, this is quite interesting I think, because once you know a song you can't help but read the lyrics and hear the tune in your head, which is why it might still seem like good poetry, even if it isn't. Nick Cave, who is probably my favourite living composer/singer, is often cited as someone who is a poet with his lyrics. They published a book of his lyrics as poetry in fact. But looking at a couple of my favourite of his songs without the music was interesting because I wasn't sure how good all of it was as poetry, although I thought some of it was. For example, the following is one of my favourite of his songs: Are you the one (that I've been wating for)? I've felt you coming girl, as you drew near I knew you'd find me, cause I longed you here Are you my desitiny? Is this how you'll appear? Wrapped in a coat with tears in your eyes? Well take that coat babe, and throw it on the floor Are you the one that I've been waiting for? As you've been moving surely toward me My soul has comforted and assured me That in time my heart it will reward me And that all will be revealed So I've sat and I've watched an ice-age thaw Are you the one that I've been waiting for? Out of sorrow entire worlds have been built Out of longing great wonders have been willed They're only little tears, darling, let them spill And lay your head upon my shoulder Outside my window the world has gone to war Are you the one that I've been waiting for? O we will know, won't we? The stars will explode in the sky O but they don't, do they? Stars have their moment and then they die There's a man who spoke wonders though I've never met him He said, "He who seeks finds and who knocks will be let in" I think of you in motion and just how close you are getting And how every little thing anticipates you All down my veins my heart-strings call Are you the one that I've been waiting for? Hmmmm. I have to say if I read this on here I would probably not think it was good, especially because of some of the rhyming which seems a little silly on the page - and words bandied around like destiny, and the rhyming of willed and spilt..., although in the song I LOVE the bit when he says, 'O we will know, won't we?The stars will explode in the sky O but they don't, do they? Stars have their moment and then they die.' reading it written down it doesn't do the same thing. So, I do not love his music less, but I think there are certain things that work in songs, that make songs beautiful, that might make poetry trite. However some of his other songs, I think, do work as poems as well. I just chose this as one I find particularly poignant usually.

Talent always helps. I Won’t Be Home No More Lyrics: Written and recorded by hank williams (sr.) well, you’re just in time to be too late I tried to but I couldn’t wait And [a] now I ’ve got another date So I won’t be home no [d] more You’re just in time to miss the boat So don’t take off your hat and coat [a] be on your way, that’s all she wrote ’cause I won’t be home no [d] more. I [g] stood around a month or two And waited for your call Now [d] I ’m too busy pitchin’ woo So come around next [a] fall I [d] scratched your name right off my slate And hung a sign on my front gate You’re [a] just in time to be too late And I won’t be home no [d] more. Well, you’re just in time to turn around And drive your buggy back to town You looked me up I turned you down And I won’t be home no more You’re just in time to change your tune Go tell your troubles to the moon And call around next may or june ’cause I won’t be home no more. I used to be the patient kind Believed each alibi But that’s all done, I ’ve changed my mind I ’ve got new fish to fry Well, you’re just in time to celebrate The things you didn’t calculate You’re just in time to be too late And I won’t be home no more. Comfortably Numb Pink Floyd Hello, Is there anybody in there Just nod if you can hear me Is there anyone at home Come on now I hear you're feeling down I can ease your pain And get you on your feet again Relax I'll need some information first Just the basic facts Can you show me where it hurts There is no pain, you are receding A distant ship smoke on the horizon You are coming through in waves Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying When I was a child I had a fever My hands felt just like two balloons Now I've got that feeling once again I can't explain, you would not understand This is not how I am I have become comfortably numb O.K. Just a little pin prick There'll be no more aaaaaaaah! But you may feel a little sick Can you stand up? I do believe it's working, good That'll keep you going through the show Come on it's time to go. There is no pain you are receding A distant ship smoke on the horizon You are only coming through in waves Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse Out of the corner of my eye I turned to look but it was gone I cannot put my finger on it now The child is grown The dream is gone And I have become Comfortably numb. You don't need the light of the Lord to read the handwriting on the wall." Copies of Warsaw Tales available through www.new-ink.org

Pink Floyd has been my fav artist since I was a teen, so I can't read the lyrics without hearing the song. But, I love the words they string together. Anything on The Final Cut is worth listening to.