Dubious Lyrics From Nonsensical Songs

BLUES:
Muddy Waters, “Rollin’ Stone,” from Rollin' Stone

Totally dubious lyric: “Well, I wish I was a catfish, swimmin’ in a oh, deep, blue sea/I would have all you good-lookin’ women fishin’, fishin’ after me.”

Cold hard fact: Women don’t fish a whole lot. In fact, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, women account for a mere 33 percent of all freshwater anglers. Of that 33 percent, what percentage would you estimate was/is attractive — five percent, tops? If being reeled in by a beauty is his greatest desire, Mr. Waters would be better served to wish he were a blouse sitting on a Filene’s Basement discount rack.



COUNTRY:
Brad Paisley, “Ticks,” from 5th Gear

Totally dubious lyric: “I’d like to walk you through a field of wildflowers/And I’d like to check you for ticks.”

Cold hard fact: Checking for ticks should be left to certified medical professionals. According to this guy we know who’s, like, a conservationist or something, soft ticks live in crevices — which means that Mr. Paisley’s romantic evening might involve digging of a decidedly different sort than he envisions. And to remove the hard ticks that attach to a host’s skin, tweezers are generally required. SeXXXy! Why not sip some barn-produced moonshine and smack each other about the torso with hay rakes to complete the mood?



REGGAE:
Damian Marley, “Welcome to Jamrock,” from Welcome to Jamrock

Cold hard fact: “Welcome to Jamrock, camp where the thugs they camp at/Two pounds a weed inna van bag/It inna your handbag, your knapsack, it inna your backpack/The smell a-give your girlfriend contact.”

Speciousness: Let’s not assume too much about that contact high, fella. According to Yahoo! Answers sage “Jammin246” — as evidenced by her tag, clearly a Marley fan — contact highs are influenced by any number of variables. How physically proximate were you to the joker/smoker/midnight toker? How big are you? What kind of ventilation was there in the venue-of-doobie? If you’re a fat bastard who sat in a small room with sealed windows while somebody else fired up, you’re screwed, basically.



WUSS ROCK:
John Denver, “Rocky Mountain High,” from Rocky Mountain High

Totally dubious lyric: “And the Colorado Rocky Mountain high/I’ve seen it raining fire in the sky/The shadows from the starlight are softer than a lullaby.”

Cold hard fact: Starlight doesn’t throw shadows across Denver’s wussish terrain so much as the moon does — and even if it did, it has no audible qualities that would encourage comparison with a lullaby. And the infrequent meteor shower notwithstanding, which may look like raining fire if viewed from a distance and/or if the observer is chemically influenced, rain is by definition limited to liquid form. Science limits the imagination, doesn’t it? Meanwhile, maybe we chose the wrong wimpoid John Denver lyric. In “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” he describes West Virginia as “almost heaven.” Well, sure it is — if you’re a fugitive.