"O Oysters," said the Carpenter, "You've had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?' But answer came there none-- And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one.
Well. If you're that kind of girl, I suppose. (Jeff, you slut.)Ac-tually, for years and years, I thought of the second line of the chorus in this one...
....as a sign that Graham Nash was the rare man who really did know what women wanted. Because for some reason, the guys in my life have just never been as interested in my showing them what I'd bought (while telling them in great detail all the many pros and cons of said purchases, as well as giving them a second-by-second replay of my experiences and thoughts while buying them.**
Then I discovered that he didn't write it. The then-teenaged Graham Gouldman, who would later grow up to co-write "I'm Not in Love" (which we heard courtesy of Laodicean, just a handful of songs up-thread) as a member of 10cc, after spending a while hanging around writing other sterling works of 1960s British pop genius, such as "For Your Love" and "Evil-Hearted You" did.
Nevertheless. It's still a lyric that's very evocative of blossoming intimacy, occurring with sudden unexpectedness in the middle of a song the words of which are otherwise practically surreal gibberish. So I still love it.
** I don't get that at all, frankly. I mean, the things I've bought are so interesting. Or they are right after I've bought them, anyway. And for at least 45 minutes afterward, too. Men. Who can understand them?
The shopping thing. I remember a trip to NYC in the 90s, and my then girlfriend was killing me with trips to a button store - a button store - and nearly missing our flight home because she needed another pair of shoes. It was simply an irritant, and I didn't get it as an act of intimacy. Depression fantasias aside, and failed relationships later, I get it.
And Gouldman wrote that? Impressed but not surprised. 10cc was my high school guilty pleasure. Or I suppose the pleasure most likely to get me beaten up. But lyrically they were worth my running the risk.
Norman Mailer Waits to nail her He's under her bed And he's waiting for her to be dead
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter, "You've had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?' But answer came there none-- And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one.