Preface: A mondegreen is the mishearing or misinterpretation of a phrase, usually in a song. The concept is nothing new, in fact there are several websites dedicated entirely to misheard lyrics. That being said, in doing research for this article (See how I’ve created my own little fantasy world where I refer to these posts as “articles” like I write for a newspaper or a magazine? Hilarious, no?) I checked out a few of those sites, and I have to tell you, I think people are just making stuff up. No, really. It’s like they took the published lyrics and ran them through a “rhyme machine” then picked the ones they thought were the funniest. How lame/stupid is that? Whatever, these are my very own 100% true lyrical errors, and, let’s be completely honest, isn’t everything better when I’m the one telling the story? Exactly. Proceed!

In the olden days, when iPods were called the “radio” and CDs were giant disks made of shiny black vinyl, the lyrics of any song were open to interpretation. If you couldn’t quite decipher what the lead singer was saying, even after picking up the needle, moving it back a smidge, and listening to it again, most people just made up words that seemed to make sense. Occasionally, you’d hit the Lyric Jackpot and an album would come with the words to the songs printed on the sleeve, but that wasn’t always foolproof. Sometimes those crazy rock and rollers liked to mix things up in the recording session and tweak the lyrics to their liking. And then there are a whole slew of bands that really didn’t want their listeners to know exactly what they were saying, so they mumbled a lot. Famous mumblers include Bob Dylan, Kurt Cobain, and James Brown. Sure, they are all musical geniuses, but exact enunciation was not of utmost importance.

The only way a person would know if the lyrics he used were incorrect was if someone else was singing along with him, in the car let’s say, and brought it to his immediate attention. This usually took the form of enthusiastic mockery and the verbal assault of incredulity of one’s unprecedented stupidity.

Without further ado, here are five examples of my lyrical misconceptions:

Song: “Come Sail Away” by Styx
My Lyrics: I’m sailing away, set an open course for the Virgin Sea
Actual Lyrics: I’m sailing away, set an open course full of urgency

Now, I ask you, don’t my lyrics make more sense? I mean, he’s sailing, right? And where do you sail? On the sea, right? The Virgin Sea was obviously the waters surrounding the Virgin ISLANDS, no? Even when I was older, and I had learned that the ocean surrounding the Virgin Islands was called the Caribbean* I STILL justified my lyrics by thinking the “virgin sea” was just a jaunty seafaring term for undiscovered waters. When I finally learned of the actual lyrics, my initial response was, “How dumb.” I mean, really. “Full of urgency” makes it sound as if Denis DeYoung has to tinkle, not sail away. And, let’s be realistic here, if one needs to go somewhere urgently, wouldn’t an airplane be a more logical choice than a dinghy? Moving on…

“Little Red Corvette” by Prince
My Lyrics: Well, honey, I said feel it comin’
Actual Lyrics: Well, honey, I said little red corvette

I know. How could I be so oblivious? The truth is, I didn’t really know much about Prince until Purple Rain came out, and I never went back to investigate his older stuff until I was much older, and that included the album 1999. So, therefore, I’d never actually seen the title of Little Red Corvette written down. I knew the song, but the fact that it was about a car went completely over my head. Oops. My bad. Years later, when Prince officially changed his name into an unpronounceable symbol, forcing everyone refer to him as “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince,” and then reneged said decree not long afterward, I figured we were about even.

“Golden Slumbers” by The Beatles
My Lyrics: Once there was a way to get back on a word
Actual Lyrics: Once there was a way to get back homeward

Some of you might be scratching your heads right about now and thinking, “What does ‘get back on a word’ even MEAN?” And to that I say, “I don’t know!” To get back on a word was obviously just a grown-up way of saying “take that back!” It was an expression of regret, y’know, like when you’ve said something really horrible to someone and you wish you could travel back in time and un-say it. Look, Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees were completely devastated! Peter only true love, Strawberry, was dead, and it was all Steven Tyler and Joe Perry’s fault! Pete just wanted to take back the harsh words he unleashed on Strawberry when she caught him getting a bit too friendly with that manipulative slut, Lucy. If Billy Preston hadn’t shown up when he did, Peter would’ve successfully committed suicide. (I bet you didn’t know Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was so dramatic, did you?) In reality, I was just a little kid and my only real defense is that it made sense at the time. Plus, the next line of lyrics is: Once there was a way to get back home. So, why would John and Paul use practically the same exact words twice? I mean, they were two of the greatest song writers of ALL TIME, and you expect me to believe that they couldn’t think of another word besides “home?” It doesn’t even rhyme, for crying out loud!

“When I Grow Up” by The Pussycat Dolls
Disclaimer: Although the Pussycat Dolls are an abomination and should be stopped for encouraging innocent little girls to become Pole Dancers, this is an awesome song to work out to, so save your music critique. I know, okay?
My Lyrics: When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a star, I wanna have boobies
Actual Lyrics: When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a star, I wanna have groupies

I don’t know about you, but when I was a little girl, I wanted to have boobies WAY MORE than I wanted to have groupies. Hey, I’m just sayin’. And yes, I did want to be famous and a star, too. But I suppose the actual lyrics make more sense than my lyrics when evaluating the song as a cohesive collection of thoughts (bet you never imagined you’d see the word “thought” associated with the PCD, did you?). “Boobies” just works better for me. It’s a personal choice. Boobies Bonus: now that I am older and have been generously blessed by the Booby Fairy, I can work accentuating my top-notch rack into the performance of the song. (Don’t ask.)

“Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2
My Lyrics: Someday, buddy, someday
Actual Lyrics: Sunday, Bloody Sunday

This particular lyric mishap wins, hands down, the Most Totally Moded, Bag Your Face award. You see, I sang those completely incorrect lyrics quite loudly at a U2 concert, until the people in the row in front of me took the time to correct me. Thanks. Perhaps some of you might remember a prior reference to this concert. That’s because it was chock full of awkward teenage moments that no amount of therapy could ever allow me to forget. As well as being completely and utterly mortified when I discovered that the lyrics I was singing weren’t the lyrics to the song AT ALL, and the fact that the central message of the lyrics was crucial to the song even being written, this is also the concert where I smoked at least a whole pack of Marlboro Reds by myself. Not surprisingly, I haven’t touched a cigarette since. It may also explain why I don’t particularly care for U2.

Well, I think I’ve aired enough of my dirty laundry for one day. If you have any real mondegreen humdingers, I’d love to hear them. Until then, I bid you adieu.

*Do you say Care-a-BEE-an or Ca-RIB-ee-an? Heh. That reminds me of a funny story. In college, I threw an end of the session party for the peeps in my class. We were all about to embark on different paths to higher learning, and since we’d been in the same classes for a considerable amount of time, I felt it was appropriate to have one last hurrah. We were an eclectic bunch, to say the least, and one guy in particular was known only as “the Quiet Dude.” He was the guy who never said anything, ever, unless he had to. And that was cool with me (more time for me to talk, natch). So, there we were, about six or seven of us out on my balcony, because I didn’t allow people to smoke in my apartment…well, not cigarettes anyway. We were having the conversation you have with people who grew up in different parts of the world about proper pronunciation. Y’know, the “you say po-TAY-tow, I say po-TOT-toe” rigmarole. When we had pretty much exhausted our combined knowledge of vocabulary choices, the Quiet Dude says, “Do you say CLITTER-is or clit-TOR-is?” And for one one-hundredth of a second it got so quiet you could hear a pin drop, which was immediately followed by uproarious laughter the likes of which I’ve yet to encounter again. Here’s to all the “Quiet Dudes” out there, you may not say much, but when you do, it’s awesome.**

**Heh. Heh. Heh. That story reminds me of another pronunciation conversation I had with two lovely Canadians whilst I was visiting the beautiful city of Vancouver. Well, Vancouver is in Canada, as you well know, and the general consensus amongst most Americans is that they (the Canucks) talk funny. So imagine my surprise when upon arrival I was immediately accosted regarding how I pronounce certain words. I mean, I’d literally just stepped off the plane and into the car when the “Laugh-at-the-silly-American” game ensued. If you haven’t played that game before, it’s kind of like charades but with words. The trick is, the Canadian cannot say the actual word they have in mind, because then it wouldn’t be as funny, and it would turn into a game of “Laugh-at-the-silly-Canadian.” The three words I was to guess were: decal, badminton and lieutenant. It was so strange. I had never had anyone mock my accent before, because I don’t have one. Or, at least, I don’t think I do. It’s not like I’m from the South or Brooklyn or anything. I suppose I say “like” too often and probably “oh my god” more than necessary, but other than those language markers no one would know I was from California just from hearing me speak. Would they? ANYeh, you may now return to the previous article already in progress.

Editor’s Note: Um, yeah. So as I was scouring the interwebs to find an image to add to this post, I came across some rather significant information that would’ve been considerably more helpful had I discovered it BEFORE I published this. But, I am all about owning up to my mistakes no matter how really, really stupid they are. Turns out, Dennis DeYoung is not the imbecile I accused him of being. See, the ACTUAL lyrics to “Come Sail Away” ARE “set an open course for the virgin sea,” and NOT “set an open course full of urgency.” The latter would be entirely MY own creation, and officially makes ME the imbecile. Whoops. That being said, I still think what I wrote was funny, so I’m not going to edit it out just to save face.

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