Friday, March 24, 2017

Music Friday: "Pure Comedy"

I've heard good things about Father John Misty, but I got intrigued after reading "Here Is the Scandalous Father John Misty Interview You've Been Waiting For" on Pitchfork. 

So yesterday I purchased I Love You, Honeybear

I'm looking forward to the new release, Pure Comedy. Here's the title track with lyrics afterward. 

"Pure Comedy"
The comedy of man starts like this.
Our brains are way too big for our mothers' hips.
And so Nature, she divines this alternative.
We emerged half-formed and hope that whoever greets us on the other end
Is kind enough to fill us in.
And, babies, that's pretty much how it's been ever since.
Now the miracle of birth leaves a few issues to address.
Like, say, that half of us are periodically iron deficient.
So somebody's got to go kill something while I look after the kids.
I'd do it myself, but what, are you going to get this thing its milk?
He says as soon as he gets back from the hunt, we can switch.
It's hard not to fall in love with something so helpless.
Ladies, I hope we don't end up regretting this.

Comedy, now that's what I call pure comedy.
Just waiting until the part where they start to believe
They're at the center of everything.
And some all-powerful being endowed this horror show with meaning.
Oh, their religions are the best.
They worship themselves, yet they're totally obsessed
With risen zombies, celestial virgins, magic tricks, these unbelievable outfits.
And they get terribly upset
When you question their sacred texts
Written by woman-hating epileptics.

Their languages just serve to confuse them.
Their confusion somehow makes them more sure.
They build fortunes poisoning their offspring
And hand out prizes when someone patents the cure.
Where did they find these goons they elected to rule them?
What makes these clowns they idolize so remarkable?
These mammals are hell-bent on fashioning new gods,
So they can go on being godless animals.

Oh comedy, their illusions they have no choice but to believe
Their horizons that just forever recede.
And how's this for irony, their idea of being free is a prison of beliefs
That they never ever have to leave.
Oh comedy, oh it's like something that a madman would conceive!
The only thing that seems to make them feel alive is the struggle to survive.
But the only thing that they request is something to numb the pain with
Until there's nothing human left.
Just random matter suspended in the dark.
I hate to say it, but each other's all we got.

No comments: