Tunes that kind of creeped you out, but.......

Sassycakes said:
I can't listen to this song without crying. I was playing it when I got the call that a friend of mine who was a Fireman had just gotten killed fighting a fire.

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awww I'm so sorry that you have the very sad connection with this song, it's such a beautiful song... I've always loved it .
 

hollydolly said:
Oooh no....I love ''patches'' but by Clarence Carter :D... my brother used to do a great rendition of that...
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I find it so interesting that the same tunes were popular in both England and the U.S. around the same times but by different artists. Most of the tunes that were done by Dionne Warwick on our side of the pond were done by Cilla Black on your side.
 

Marlene said:
I find it so interesting that the same tunes were popular in both England and the U.S. around the same times but by different artists. Most of the tunes that were done by Dionne Warwick on our side of the pond were done by Cilla Black on your side.
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yes you're right, Cilla did cover Dionne's songs a lot, mostly not for the better I have to say ... :D however Clarence Carter is not British, he's an American blues and soul singer and it was his version of Patches which was a the top of the charts here in the late 60's
 
hollydolly said:
yes you're right, Cilla did cover Dionne's songs a lot, mostly not for the better I have to say ... :D however Clarence Carter is not British, he's an American blues and soul singer and it was his version of Patches which was a the top of the charts here in the late 60's
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smack up side the head. Of course, I know Clarence Carter. . .I guess I really never heard his version of Patches because the Dickey Lee version is what gets most air time here. I usually end up dancing to Slip Away and I Can't Leave Your Love Behind. . .by Clarence.
 
Oh! You have just stepped into MY WORLD! These are not creepy to me at all but some make me cry. I listen to these and MY SOUL LIFTS TO ANOTHER REALM!

Danny Boy!
Crying Roy Orbison
Every breath I take Gene Pitney
I'm gonna be strong Gene Pitney
Only you The Platters
Sounds of Silence Simon and Garfunkel
It's time to cry Paul Anka
Hurt Timi Yuro
To know him is to love him The Teddy Bears
My true love Jack Scott
My Prayer The Platters
Cry Baby Garnet Mimms
Are you Lonesome tonight? Elvis Presley
Sometimes when we touch Dan Hill
Can't help falling in love Elvis Presley
You mean everything to me The Fleetwoods
Softly as I leave you Matt Monro
Last chance toturn around Gene Pitney
Smoke gets in your eyes The Platters
I Understand The G-Clefs
Bless you Tony Orlando
Half Heaven, half heartache Gene Pitney
Tower Tall Gene Pitney
Run to him Bobby Vee
Love me tender Elvis Presley
Let it be me The Everly Bros.
 
Gary O' said:
Tunes that kind of creeped you out, but.......



Mainly because I sorta lived that one

Driving down a country road....while making out

She looks up.....screams; 'LOOK OUT!! LOOK OUT!!'
My eyeballs return from the back of my head in time to see an oncoming car of old people (I'm in their lane)

It's a long story from there
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You're a long story teller, in here. We're waiting.............toe tapping.gif
 
I've always loved Angie Baby by Helen Reddy, kind of a horror novel in a song. Partial lyrics below...

Angie baby, you're a special lady
Living in a world of make-believe
Well, maybe

Stopping at her house is a neighbor boy
With evil on his mind
'Cause he's been peeking in Angie's room
At night through the window blind
I see your folks have gone away
Would you dance with me today?
I'll show you how to have a good time, Angie baby

When he walks in the room, he feels confused
Like he's walked into a play
And the music's so loud it spins him around
'Til his soul has lost its way
And as she turns the volume down
He's getting smaller with the sound
It seems to pull him off the ground
Toward the radio he's bound
Never to be found

The headlines read that a boy disappeared
And everyone thinks he died
Except a crazy girl with a secret lover who
Keeps her satisfied
It's so nice to be insane
No one asks you to explain
Radio by your side, Angie baby
 
treeguy64 said:
You're a long story teller, in here. We're waiting.........
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Okay...okaaaay

the rest....of.... the story (a little Paul Harvey there)

But

Gotta start from the beginning (that's where the length comes in)


Lindsey


From months of bucking hay and picking berries, beans, and whatever I could get hold of, at 14 I bought a car.

My first.

’54 Chevy
$300

When you save your money in a cigar box for several months, taking it out, counting,
fondling, stacking, fanning it out like a hand of gin rummy,
then putting it back under the bed, w-a-a-a-a-y under,
and you make a major purchase, your object of worship is gone…gone I say
…just an empty cigar box with only the faint scent of cheap cigars
and a hint of the smell of soft currency once soaked in the sweat of your front Levi pocket.


There are few words to describe the emptiness.
Maybe ‘bereft’.

I’d had this same experience at 12, getting my 30-30, but $79.50 from Western Auto was not the same as giving over a summer of work in one fell swoop.

The following summer I got a job hoeing roses for a famous, prize winning rose grower that had several acres of (you guessed it) roses at the end of a gravel road on top of the hill we lived on.
So, before sunup I’d make myself lunch, make coffee for the thermos and breakfast, fire up the green hornet and bomb up the hill, taking switchback after switchback…. sideways.


Then proceed to get a head start on a degenerative back by hoeing roses for 10 hours.
One Friday I’d gotten a call from a pretty little girl that I’d met.
Not as beautiful as my lady now, but beyond cute…really really cute, even pretty….her smile did funny things to my heart.
So Sunday I approached dad.

‘Hey, ol’ man. I wanna go to church with this girl.’

‘Well, what’s stoppin’ ya?’

‘She lives on the other side of Portland.’

‘You want me to drive you to the other side of Portland?!’

‘Uh, no.
I’d like to drive my car.’

(Mom)
‘ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!’

‘I’d be careful.’
‘And, (the coupe de grace) can I borrow grampa’s bible?’

‘You better be careful, cause if you get in an accident, they’re comin’ after me.’

‘Thanksdadbye.’

Mom said something, rather sputtered something, but I was already bombin’ down the drive.
Can’t recall the jaunt over the St Johns Bridge or the rest of the twenty miles.

Lindsey jumped in and we headed down the country lane to a park.
On the way, she was all over me.
I gave a thought to just pull over into the ditch, but maintained my James Bond nonchalant approach and returned her kisses, French kisses,
my first,
in my car,
driving,
For some reason, even beyond the control of my crotch, my mind relished in the sensation of tongue wrestling with this lovely being, and not on keeping in my lane…or on the road even.
It wouldn’t have mattered much to look where I was goin’ because my eyeballs were rolled back in my head.

Then a funny thing happened.

Somewhere deep in my semi consciousness, I heard trumpets blowing.
(So this is what Brad was telling me about…)
But while trying to gather my fuzzy thoughts, I had a flash back of a song that was getting popular….Leader of the Pack had a girl yelling ‘LOOK OUT, LOOK OUT, LOOK OUT!!’, then screeching tires.
Only it was Linda yelling, and the trumpet was a car horn, and the tires were those of the car in front of us.
I just remember two old couples, dressed for church, mouths open, arms waving.

I swerved.
Our rear quarter panels met.
Hard.
A sickening crunch.

My rear view mirror revealed them just sittin’ there in the middle of the road…sideways….gettin’ smaller and smaller as I floored the little chevy.
Lindsey didn’t say much when I dropped her off, but a few days later I got a letter.
My first.

I drove into the drive and parked behind the garage.
My story was that there was black ice on a corner and I slid into the guard rail.
He bought it.



I sweated blood for weeks after that, waiting for cops to haul my dad off in hand cuffs…leaving me with mom.
It never happened, but every time I got in my car, I got a little sick to my stomach.
I told him the real story three decades later.
We both had a good laugh over it.
Together.
Not at each other, but with each other.
My first.
 
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"Polly Von" Peter, Paul & Mary

I shall tell of a hunter whose life was undone
By the cruel hand of evil at the setting of the sun
His arrow was loosed and it flew through the dark
And his true love was slain as the shaft found its mark

She'd her apron wrapped about her and he took her for a swan
But it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von
He ran up beside her and found it was she
He turned away his head for he could not bear to see
He lifted her up and found she was dead
A fountain of tears for his true love, he shed

He bore her away to his home by the sea
Cryin' "Father, oh father, I murdered poor Polly!
I've killed my fair love in the flower of her life!
I always intended that she be my wife."
"But she'd her apron wrapped about her
And I took her for a swan

And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von."
He roamed near the place where his true love was slain
He wept bitter tears, but his cries were all in vain
As he looked on the lake, a swan glided by
And the sun slowly sank in the grey of the sky
 

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