Advance notice to potential listeners. Please be aware that a ragtime blues combined with a talking blues introduces some complex chord progressions, key modulations, and something known technically in the profession as "notes in the tonic scale", all of which, let's be honest, are way beyond the musical limitations of this particular artist. As Leonard Cohen once famously remarked, if you want to hear real singing, go to the Opera.
She'd like to have
been a painter, and lived in a garret or two
She'd like to have
gone on the stage, just for something to do
She'd like to have
been a lawyer, and argued her cases for free
But o how she
suffered in childhood, deprived of the benefits of hunger and poverty
And she's bored,
with doing nothing
She's bored, the
maid does the chores
She's bored, with
doing the shopping
In Harrods and
Macys and other fine stores
She's bored with
opera and ballet
She's bored, with
screwing the valet
She's bored, best
go out and buy some new shoes
My baby's got the
bourgeois blues
(That’s what they call it)
My baby's got the
bourgeois blues
She likes to go
spending my money
On jewellery fine,
but discrete
She thinks that
it’s really quite funny
Why some folks
build their homes on the street
She likes to tip
waiters with roubles
And porters with
shekels and yen
And empathise with
all their troubles
For she’s had them
herself now and then
But she’s bored
with Ascot and Henley (with life on the Hamptons)
She’s bored, her
lover’s in France
She’s bored –
it’ll drive her to Shenley (they’ve closed the hair salon)
O won’t some
gorgeous toy-boy invite her to dance
She’s bored with
weekends in Paris
She’s bored, and
not the least bit embarrassed
Best go out and
buy some new shoes
My baby's got the
bourgeois blues
(It’s very
fashionable)
My baby's got the
bourgeois blues
She sits on a
charity commission, doling out dosh to the poor
But she spends all
her mornings just wishing she could do something usefully more
The boob job has
lifted her spirit, the diet has made her so slim
They think that
she’s turned anorexic, when she’s getting her tan at the gym
And she’s bored,
she’s done the museums
She’s bored,
you’ve seen one you’ve seen ‘em (all)
She’s bored, it’s
time for martinis
She’s bored, now
where’s my bikini
She’s bored, best
go out and buy some new shoes
My baby’s got the
bourgeois blues
(I hope it kills her)
My baby’s got the
bourgeois blues
You can find David Prashker at:
If
you would like to include "The Talking Ragtime Bourgeois Blues No 137(b)" in your repertoire,
either for paid public performance or to record for commercial
purposes, or if you would like to re-use the recordings attached to this
blog-page for commercial purposes, contact
argaman@theargamanpress.com.
Use of this song, and/or these recordings, for
non-commercial purposes, is not simply permitted but invited.
Words and music by David Prashker
Copyright © 2014 David Prashker
All rights reserved
The Argaman Press
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