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Archive for October, 2008

You’re guilty of crime in the first degree,
Second and third as well.
My jury finds you’ll be serving your time
When you go straight to hell.

‘Cause he was Lord of the Lightning,
Though “socially fright’ning”,
But never out to sell.

Their nickels and pence
Meant more than did sense,
And not the sensible thing.

Nor did the man outta time, man outta time.
Thought you was crazy. You was one of a kind.
Man outta time, man outta time.
All along, world was wrong. You was right.

All that he saw, all he conceived,
They just could not believe.
Steinmetz and Twain were friends that remained,
Along with number three.
He was electromagnetic, completely kinetic,
“New Wizard of the West.”
But they swindled and whined that he wasn’t our kind,
And said Edison knew best.

He was the man outta time, man outta time.
Thought you was crazy. You was one of a kind.
Man outta time, man outta time.
Said you was outta your mind!

You took a shot and it did you in.
Edison’s medicine.
You played your cards, but you couldn’t win.
Edison’s medicine.

I spent twelve years of hard time,
More like the best years of my life.
Never heard or read a single word
About “the man” and his “wicked mind.”
They’ll sell you on Marconi.
Familiar, but a phony.
Story goes they sold their souls
And swore that you’d never know…

About the man outta time, man outta time.
Thought you was crazy. You was one of a kind.
Man outta time, man outta time.
Swore you was outta your mind!

You took a shot and it did you in.
Edison’s medicine.
You played your cards, but you couldn’t win.
Edison’s medicine.

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In this corner, written in 1959 by DeWayne Blackwell, recorded by The Fleetwoods, and weighing in at #1 that year:

MR. BLUE

Our guardian star lost all his glow
The day that I lost you
He lost all his glitter the day you said, no
And his silver turned to blue
Like him, I am doubtful that your love is true
But if you decide to call on me
Ask for Mr. Blue

I’m Mr. Blue (wah-a-wah-ooh)
When you say you love me (ah, Mr. Blue)
Then prove it by goin’ out on the sly
Provin’ your love isn’t true
Call me Mr. Blue

I’m Mr. Blue (wah-a-wah-ooh)
When you say you’re sorry (ah, Mr. Blue)
Then turn around, head for the lights of town
Hurtin’ me through and through
Call me Mr. Blue

I stay at home at night (I stay at home)
Right by the phone at night (right by the phone)
But you won’t call
And I-I won’t hu-urt my pride (call me Mr)

I won’t tell you (wah-a-wah-ooh)
Why you paint the town (ah, Mr. Blue)
A bright red to turn it upside down
I’m paintin’ it too
But I’m paintin’ it blue
Call me Mr. Blue (wah-a-wah-ooh)
Call me Mr. Blue (wah-a-wah-ooh)

Call me Mr. Blue

And in the opposite corner, written in 1964 by Bobby Vinton and Gene Allan, performed by Bobby Vinton and charting at #1 of that year:

MR. LONELY

Lonely, I’m Mr. Lonely
I have nobody for my own
I am so lonely, I’m Mr. Lonely
Wish I had someone to call on the phone

Now I’m a soldier, a lonely soldier
Away from home through no wish of my own
That’s why I’m lonely, I’m Mr. Lonely
I wish that I could go back home

Letters, never a letter
I get no letters in the mail
I’ve been forgotten, yes, forgotten
Oh how I wonder, how is it I failed

Now I’m a soldier, a lonely soldier
Away from home through no wish of my own
That’s why I’m lonely, I’m Mr. Lonely
I wish that I could go back home

Pound for pound, two of the most melodramatic, melancholy songs of all time!  Let’s have a fair fight!  DING!

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