The Sound of the Spheres
The Rastenberg Philharmonic had sat,
Were shuffling in their seats,
And tuning their various instruments
To play ‘The Survivor Suite'.
It had only been played just once before,
They knew they were taking a chance,
The conductor and several cellists had gone
Right after Svrili's Dance!
One moment, the baton was waved in the air,
The next, the podium was clear,
A cellist had sawed at an awful E flat
Before he had disappeared;
Then holes had appeared in the group at the front
Where cellists and violins sat,
And all that was left of the treble bassoon
Was a sandwich, under his hat.
It wasn't as if they hadn't been warned
For Borchnik appeared on the stage,
‘I scribbled this suite in a white hot heat
As I paced, in a boiling rage!
For those sitting close to the glockenspiel,
They really should cover their ears,
For once that crescendo of flute, lute and cello
Is heard - that's the Sound of the Spheres! '
Karamov turned to the audience, bowed,
Then tapped with his baton, twice,
He wouldn't be fazed to the end of his days
Though the Devil was tumbling the dice!
He looked at the fear-crazed Orchestra
Who'd heard about Borchnik's curse,
Then launched them in to The Wages of Sin
As an introductory verse!
The music was nothing like you would expect,
It capered and trilled, and it soared,
It spoke of the aeons of military might,
Of the soldier that fell on his sword,
The audience sat with their open jaws
As it thrilled and it burst into flight,
And carried them out where the planets sang
In a paean to endless night!
The music it raged, and the music roared
And it came to Svrili's Dance,
A blonde violinist took off for the door,
No way was she taking a chance!
A hole opened over a cellist's head
And swallowed the glockenspiel,
While Karamov's face went as white as the dead
When he found himself out in a field!
The Orchestra, crazed, seemed unable to stop,
The instruments sang in their hands,
The audience freaked as the piccolo peaked
And the harpsichord melted in strands,
They made for the exits in panic and fear
For the horror that waited outside,
A mammoth was leaning against the front door,
And a raptor was caught in mid-stride.
It took seven weeks for the madness to stop,
And Borchnik was run out of town,
While Karamov wanders where dinosaurs crop,
Conducting some thoughts of his own.
The Rastenberg Orchestra‘s now in recess,
Unlikely to play now for years,
The musicians agree that there isn't a fee
That would bring back the Sound of the Spheres!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
As long as its music
Please play me a symphony
Make a simple cheerful harmony
Please play me a chord from a guitar
For me, it does not matter
If I’m the only audience of your theatre
Give me some instrumental vibes
All rhythms and tunes are musically ripe
There is no need to take precaution
While playing the Banjo or flamenco percussion
As long as its music
We can all heal
As long as its music
We can all feel
We can sing out our hearts and soul
We can let this music take control
Please play me the drums
We can sing or we can hum
Please play me a CD or a hit record
We could sing to the tunes of an ipod
With the sounds of music we can compose a song
Maybe sing to the town’s bells chiming ding-dong
Please play me the sweet keys of a piano
Hit a sweet note that is a major or minor
As long as its music
We can all heal or cry
As long as its music
We can all feel or fly high
And I will be lost in your voice and eyes
Holding on to each minute that flies
Whatever sounds or instruments
I shall feel good in the moment
Please play me a note from a flute
Those peaceful sounds tend to soothe
I want to hear sweet, sweet music
Choose your lyrics, take your pick
My heart will dance, till she is weak
Get out that guitar, acoustic or electric
Please play me the violins of an orchestra night
String me some melodies in broad daylight
And we can rap to melodious sense or crap
While our feet’s playfully tap, tap and tap
As long as its music
We can dance along the shore
As long as its music
We can all take to the dance floor
And I say once more, once more!
As long as its music, I will only ask for more
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Playing Music Is Like Making Love
PLAYING MUSIC IS LIKE MAKING LOVE
Many people who insist that they enjoy
music known as classical merely say
they do, pretending. Far more serious is the ploy
planned by LSO, who'll just pretend to play.
There is surely nothing wrong with those who fake
enjoyment, like a woman faking an orgasm,
but pretense of playing music's a mistake,
since music needs not only sound, but ectoplasm.
Orchestras and lovemakers should never mimic:
they should always show their skin when they perform,
and should not be, although poetic, metonymic:
the use of any substitute is rotten form.
Denis Bartel reported the news about the London Symphony Orchestra's decision to mimic their playing while a performance is broadcast to visits at the Olympic Games. David Ng writes in the LA Times:
Musicians with the London Symphony Orchestra are reportedly going to have to pull a Milli Vanilli when they appear at the opening ceremony of the Summer Olympic Games in London. Reports from Britain state that the orchestra will mimic playing to prerecorded music due to concerns about the weather and the shape of the performing venue - a large, oval-shaped arena whose scale would apparently make a live-music performance tricky….
The London Symphony has reportedly recorded the music that is scheduled to be played during the July 27 ceremony. The Daily Mail reports that Boyle wanted the orchestra to perform live, but that he was overruled by the organizing committee for the Games. When viewers around the world tune in for the ceremony, they can expect to see the conductor and musicians from the renowned orchestra going through the motions while a soundtrack plays.
This wouldn't be the first time that the mimicking of live music was used at an Olympics ceremony. In 2008, a mini-controversy developed during the Beijing Games when it was revealed that a 9-year-old singer lip-synced to the voice of another young girl whom officials had deemed less telegenic. Similarly, at President Obama's inauguration, the musical performance by cellist Yo-Yo Ma, violinistItzhak Perlman, pianist Gabriella Montero and clarinetist Anthony McGill played, unamplified, to a recording. The decision to use a recording was made over fears that the cold weather that day could damage the instruments.
6/4/12 #10403
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music begins to be 'manipulated' the moment it is interpreted by a conductor or a soloist and played by an orchestra in a hall with a specific acoustic. All these factors 'manipulate' music and so does the fact that I ask the oboe please to play more piano. And you are manipulating the orchestra for one reason only: to get the sound you want. In the recording studio you are using the equipment at hand for exactly the same reason.
quote by Herbert von Karajan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Music In The Heart
Music of the heart sounds in the orchestra
For others to judge according to taste;
The pumping of blood made you nearly ask
For the music to stop and make farewell.
O how the heart senses your happy tune!
The melody survives the laughter;
O how the harmonious smell of wooden instruments
Involves us with sound and the astonishment!
Music is a happiness, music is sound,
More than a thought, more than a word;
May wise musicians design the good noise
And turn it into a message of hope.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Reason Why I Don't Keep A Gun In The House
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,
and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.
When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton
while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.
poem by Billy Collins
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I conceived of an instrument that would create sound without using any mechanical energy, like the conductor of an orchestra. The orchestra plays mechanically, using mechanical energy; the conductor just moves his hands, and his movements have an effect on the music artistry.
quote by Leon Theremin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can go in front of an orchestra. I can go in front of an audience. But if you see me walking through an audience in the reception or through a lot of people, I'm still shy.
quote by Kurt Masur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bennie The Frog
Bennie always sang in the bath tub
and his dream was to sing with a band.
At night he visited the clubs and pubs
and he travelled throughout the land.
In a pub called the Pig and Whistle
he heard music loud and clear,
but he didn’t hear anyone singing
and thought his chance was here.
When the band took a break from playing
Bennie went over to have a chat.
He asked if he could sing a song with them
and they said yes at the dropp of a hat.
They asked what song he’d be singing
when they returned on stage to play.
Bennie chose an old Rock ‘n’ Roll number,
Buddy Holly’s ‘That’ll Be The Day’.
The room soon filled up with people,
as Bennie stood in front of the band,
the pianist played the introduction
then Bennie grabbed the mic’ and sang.
There was plenty of foot-tapping and clapping
and the audience stamped on the floor.
They liked the sound of Bennie’s singing
and when he finished they shouted for more.
Bennie at last had become a singer
and his dreams had all come true,
and instead of just singing in the bath tub
he now sings to audiences too.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dancing With The One-Legged...
Manson:...you're gonna have a bunch of angry kids.
Some Guy In the Audience: Well when you do go out to a club, that, you just
gotta watch yourself whatever you do. You just can't 'speckt to go out there
and just dance and don't get touched and non-violent because that's what it is.
The music--
Donahue: I, I don't see how you--
Some Guy In the Audience: If you get the music inside your soul, anything can
happen. You don't play the music, you can't get it. It's the music.
Donahue: The music?
Parent: Music is dangerous.
Concerned Citizen My sympathy for the parents...
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0406 The Summer Evening Music That Never Ended
It was such a warm summer evening
that the music that was promised us
after the evening meal, called to meet
the open air. I wondered, would it work,
would the delicacy of the music’s fine woven tapestry,
the shaped fine wood of instruments,
fine sounds from strings, flute, clarinet,
find themselves, or lose themselves,
on the mown front lawn before the house,
under the heavens’ curve?
Chairs, music stands, cello’s spike
were settled in the grassy earth; skirts arranged;
stillness as the group began to hear
each other’s silence and the music
not yet played; not far away; but almost here.
Something complete, it seemed,
was in the air.
Music began; acquired attitudes of listening
settled on the audience; and then, unannounced,
magic descended. Someone
who knew life so intimately, so completely,
who had passed through it even while
they lived it, was telling me in my inner ear
what life was, is, all about; in detail –
it’s like this; and this; this sweetness,
that sweetness; this sadness, that sadness;
sweetness that’s sad, sadness that is sweet;
all held like a gentle fountain - bubbling continuous,
yet gloriously and joyously, ever fresh;
to be welcomed, not to be judged or resisted,
(the hearing of it was way beyond such things)
for it held - listening to it now afresh, it holds -
all that may be known, that may be lived; this is life itself;
this, this is simply, how it is...
The sound is with me now; music told me;
this is how it is.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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SOUNDS & SIGHTS OF THE RIVERDANCE...[Observations From A Live Irish Step Dance Performance/Radio City Music Hall, New York]
Tap, Tap, Tap...
Shoe-point on wood
One lone Dancer
Striking the floor
With hyperbole...
While ignominiously
Glaring, left to right
Twenty Dancers
Being watched
By twenty more
Awaiting their key
Standing in position
Clad in dark solids
Burgandy and black
Orchestra anxious
Ready to commence
Turn a silent stage
Alive with fifes 'n strings
Hear the sound of Violins
Tight-string pulling
...Rosin!
Dancers juxtaposed
Spotlights frame
each glacing movement
Madonna's......in tights
Dark Angels in taps
As the orchestra leader
SHOUTS.... in soprano
ONE, TWO, THREE..FOUR
One, Two, Three...
one, two, three...AND....
Twenty more Dancers
Edge of the stage
While Irish reels join
The romp of ''Firedance''
And, twenty-five more
Dancers in backdrop
Under white lights
Confluenced, and stunning
Commanding the audience
Front and Center
Like silhouette figures
And marionettes
All synchronized...Yes...
And on single deaf cue
Break from the middle
Like a gaelic Red Sea
And twenty-five more
Dancers line...Synchronized...YES!
All in one line...
Front and Center
To stamping feet
To thunderclap
To violins...screaming!
To one-hundred and thirty
Feet on the floor...
To the beat of the rhythm
The rhythm of the dance
The Irish Step hard shoe
As sixty-five Dancers
All in synchronized step
The violins peak....YES!
As the Dancers stamp hard
To the beat of the Riverdance
The Sound is shrilling
As the Dancers come forward
Dancing edged at stagefront
Legs in full measure
Knees over chins
Legs lifting higher
In measure and balance
To the kicked-up impact
Of the titillating music
'Til the grande-leader calls
Time to do justice
Render sweet climax
To this sterling performance
And the Dancers take flight
With utopic perfection
And land with a clamor
Of one deafening strike
Of shoes to the floor......
.................................. ......
A moments dead still
The Dancers stand silent
No movement, feet crossed
.....................................A N D
The Audience stands LOUD...
The applause just as deafening
As the applauded were clamorous
And sustains for minutes
After the very last Dancer
Walks of the stage....
'''The Riverdance'''.......
AND, THERE IS NOTHING LIKE IT!
Dedicated to my daughter, Lauren Marie Elizabeth who in 2003,
at age 9, placed 3rd in a Regional Irish Feis Competition, in N.Y.C.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sssssss....Pop!
Mesmerizing is the glow of the firelight as flames dance their unrehearsed waltz to the music of the log. Sizzle…sssssss. Pop! The orchestra plays on as the partners dance; higher and faster still they dance. All in iridescent splendor; in orange and in yellow, they curve, and bend, and twist. They move to the beat of an unseen maestro. Dance on! Dance on! . Sizzle….ssssssss. Pop! Mesmerizing the audience and dancing their unrehearsed waltz to the music of the log. Sizzle……sssssssss. Pop!
A Star Is Born
The leading man walked onto the stage,
the house lights dimmed, a hush descended,
the play was about to begin.
A drama, powerful and dramatic.
Breaths were held, not one body moved.
Suddenly, he spoke.
'Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm afraid to have to inform you,
that our leading lady has been struck down by laryngitis,
therefore, the show is cancelled'.
Mumblings, rumblings, getting louder and louder.
'Not good enough' shouted someone.
'Sit down and shut up', shouted another.
Uproar! Pandemonium!
'Where's the understudy then? ' came from a third.
'She's also indisposed, I'm sorry to say', but your money
will be refunded in the foyer'.
'I know the part', a voice called from way down in the orchestra pit.
'If you'll give me a minute,
I'll go and change, and this show can start'.
Everyone sat down in amazement! '.
This small tiny girl, was bravely taking on the big leading role.
A hush descended in the auditorium,
and the curtains parted.
As the finale ended, there was a standing ovation.
The audience were thrilled.
The girl took a bow.
The orchestra played 'God Save The Queen'
and everyone clapped and cheered.
For here on this stage, this night, a star was born!
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If a professional musician in a symphony orchestra is playing Beethoven. But this particular orchestra have played this particular chestnut so many times, they can play it in their sleep. Does the genius remain present in the music or not?
quote by Robert Fripp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Salomé
The play was called Salomé, and we
Thought it was an omen when
The girl that played the leading part
Was stricken with the mumps,
So we had to get a new one, and we
Called on Mrs. Newman, who was
Thirty, going forty, and too
Large around the rump.
There was little we could choose from
In the cast, if we should lose one,
So the stand-ins were recruited from
The Geriatric Home,
There was Barney, who'd gone missing
On a trip to Little Gissing, though
His body had returned, he'd left
His faculties to roam.
Then Madge and Mavis Murray were
Recruited in a hurry to
Supply their famous curry
To the audience, at the break.
When we asked them of the Matron
She said, 'go ahead and take them! '
For the ulcers of our Patron had
Been keeping her awake.
The rehearsals were exciting, and
The changes rung like lightning
'Til the player playing Herod slipped
And fell right off the stage.
So we had to bring on Barney, who'd
Been in the British Army, but
Who didn't like the guy who played
The Prophet in the play.
They had been out there with Rommel,
One a Private, one a Colonel,
In the Regimental Journal
Barney didn't get his say.
Now he got to play King Herod who
Would see this Prophet buried
When Salomé asked the Prophet's head
Delivered on a tray.
I was worried about Barney, who
I thought a little barmy,
Then the printer spelt - 'Salami'
On the program for the play.
I was livid, I was raging,
It was so humiliating
That I almost cancelled everything
And gave the show away.
On the night they raised the curtain
Our Salomé was uncertain,
When she did the dance of seven veils
The audience had cheered.
There were only twenty seven from
The village, Little Bevington,
She'd quite forgot her underwear
And quickly disappeared.
I called for intermission while
I handled the confusion, but
The blushing Mrs. Newman wouldn't
Come back on the stage,
So she stood behind the curtain and
Called out to Barney Burton
'I only want the Prophet's head
Delivered on a tray! '
Barney seemed to quiver, almost
Like he'd lost his liver,
Then he turned toward the Prophet
And he grabbed him by the beard.
Then he pulled him right toward him
And he grabbed the Captain's sword and
Then he flashed and gashed and gored him,
I said 'Stop! ' - He never heard!
A sudden hush descended, this
Was not what we intended,
Then the sword came down to part
The Prophet from his skinny neck,
Then the head fell on the table as
The neck began to gurgle,
And the audience sat stunned until
A few began to clap.
We all were still as statues as they
Clapped and threw their hats, and so
We turned like cornered rats, and smiled,
And then we took a bow.
But then, from out the kitchen was
The clash of dish and fish in as
The Murray sisters claimed the stage -
'You want your curry now? '
The audience, long scattered, sit
At night, when people chatter, and
They talk about Salomé and
The sight they saw that night;
'When that seventh veil came orf an'
We could see it was an orphan,
Did you see her belly button - Gawd!
Now wasn't that a sight! '
I have given up directing since the
Police have quit dissecting all the
Aspects of Salomé that just
Didn't come out right.
Though I tried to resurrect it so
They wouldn't disrespect it, but
I couldn't get a man to play
The Prophet, on the night.
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At such a loving invitation, Pinocchio, with one leap from the back of the orchestra, found himself in the front rows. With another leap, he was on the orchestra leader's head. With a third, he landed on the stage.
quote by Carlo Collodi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Body Violin Voices Sing In Heaven
flesh is but an instrument of thy will
normally in form case left unplayed
musicians free so choose instruments
to suit a mood styles orchestra played
not so is music of spheres found in heaven
music spontaneous bursts forth instant glee
everywhere souls in bliss sing souls hymns
music in rainbow sound stirs vibrant heaven
melody times solo compositions heart writ
played to honour master composers purpose
notes crystal pure music songs angels voice
who in hosts listen worship serve God praise
in heaven all creation sings in praise of God
in every voice form style tone heart rhythm
millions individualistic praise as souls may
yet all voice song tune unique worships God
all in heaven are body violin to trumpet songs
all in heaven sing in all voices unique creation
styles differ as snowflakes do soul heart longs
worship in love one true creator of all creation
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elgar
(dedicated to Sir Colin Davis)
poem
nature
violinist
self-taugh t
choral
heroic
orchestral
melancholy
Coronation Ode
Dream Children
The Sanguine Fan
The Crown of India
The Wand of Youth
The Starlight Express
Une voix dans le désert
Three Bavarian Dances
There is sweet Music
Romance, for bassoon and orchestra
Spanish Serenade (Stars of the Summer Night)
The Black Knight, cantata for chorus and orchestra
Enigma Variations
The Dream of Gerontius
Sea Pictures, Salut d'Amour
Pomp and Circumstance Marches
(inspired by Sir Edward Elgar's music)
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Play That Funky Music
(vanilla ice, earthquake)
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Im back and Im ringin the bell
A rockin on the mike while the fly girls yell
In ecstasy in the back of me
Well thats my dj deshay cuttin all them zs
Hittin hard and the girlies goin crazy
Vanillas on the mike, man Im not lazy.
Im lettin my drug kick in
It controls my mouth and I begin
To just let it flow, let my concepts go
My posses to the side yellin, go vanilla go!
Smooth cause thats the way I will be
And if you dont give a damn, then
Why you starin at me
So get off cause I control the stage
Theres no dissin allowed
Im in my own phase
The girlies sa y they love me and that is ok
And I can dance better than any kid n play
Play that funky music come on come on
Play that funky music, white boy I cant hear you, say it,
Play that funky music say it, say it, say
Play that funky music, white boy it, come on
Yea, a little bit louder
Now come on, come on
Stage 2 -- yea the one ya wanna listen to
Its off my head so let the beat play through
So I can funk it up and make it sound good
1-2-3 yo -- knock on some wood
For good luck, I like my rhymes atrocious
Supercalafragilisticexpialidocious
Im an effect and that you can bet
I can take a fly girl and make her wet.
Im like samson -- samson to delilah
Theres no denyin, you can try to hang
But youll keep tryin to get my style
Over and over, practice makes perfect
But not if youre a loafer.
Youll get nowhere, no place, no time, no girls
Soon -- oh my god, homebody, you probably eat
Spaghetti with a spoon! come on and say it!
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music come on come on
Play that funky music white boy lets do it
Vip. vanilla ice yep, yep, Im comin hard like a rhino
Intoxicating so you stagger like a wino
So punks stop trying and girl stop cryin
Vanilla ice is sellin and you people are buyin
cause why the freaks are jockin like crazy glue
Movin and groovin trying to sing along
All through the ghetto groovin this here song
Now youre amazed by the vip posse.
Steppin so hard like a german nazi
Startled by the bases hittin ground
Theres no trippin on mine, Im just gettin down
Sparkamatic, Im hangin tight like a fanatic
You trapped me once and I thought that
You might have it
So step down and lend me your ear
89 in my time! you, 90 is my year.
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music come on, come on, i
Play that funky music white boy cant hear you
Youre weakenin fast, yo! and I can tell it
Your bodys gettin hot, so, so I can smell it
So dont be mad and dont be sad
cause the lyrics belong to ice, you can call me dad
Youre pitchin a fit, so step back and endure
Let the witch doctor, ice, do the dance to cure
So come up close and dont be square
You wanna battle me -- anytime, anywhere
You thought that I was weak, boy, youre dead wrong
So come on, everybody and sing this song
Say -- play that funky music say, go white boy, go white boy go
Play that funky music go white boy, go white boy, go
Lay down and boogie and play that funky music till you die.
Play that funky music come on, come on, let me hear
Play that funky music white boy you say it, say it
Play that funky music a little louder now
Play that funky music, white boy come on, come on, come on
Play that funky music
Produced by vanilla ice
Published by ice baby music/qpm music (bmi)
song performed by by Vanilla Ice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Play That Funky Music
(vanilla ice, earthquake)
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Im back and Im ringin the bell
A rockin on the mike while the fly girls yell
In ecstasy in the back of me
Well thats my dj deshay cuttin all them zs
Hittin hard and the girlies goin crazy
Vanillas on the mike, man Im not lazy.
Im lettin my drug kick in
It controls my mouth and I begin
To just let it flow, let my concepts go
My posses to the side yellin, go vanilla go!
Smooth cause thats the way I will be
And if you dont give a damn, then
Why you starin at me
So get off cause I control the stage
Theres no dissin allowed
Im in my own phase
The girlies sa y they love me and that is ok
And I can dance better than any kid n play
Play that funky music come on come on
Play that funky music, white boy I cant hear you, say it,
Play that funky music say it, say it, say
Play that funky music, white boy it, come on
Yea, a little bit louder
Now come on, come on
Stage 2 -- yea the one ya wanna listen to
Its off my head so let the beat play through
So I can funk it up and make it sound good
1-2-3 yo -- knock on some wood
For good luck, I like my rhymes atrocious
Supercalafragilisticexpialidocious
Im an effect and that you can bet
I can take a fly girl and make her wet.
Im like samson -- samson to delilah
Theres no denyin, you can try to hang
But youll keep tryin to get my style
Over and over, practice makes perfect
But not if youre a loafer.
Youll get nowhere, no place, no time, no girls
Soon -- oh my god, homebody, you probably eat
Spaghetti with a spoon! come on and say it!
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music come on come on
Play that funky music white boy lets do it
Vip. vanilla ice yep, yep, Im comin hard like a rhino
Intoxicating so you stagger like a wino
So punks stop trying and girl stop cryin
Vanilla ice is sellin and you people are buyin
cause why the freaks are jockin like crazy glue
Movin and groovin trying to sing along
All through the ghetto groovin this here song
Now youre amazed by the vip posse.
Steppin so hard like a german nazi
Startled by the bases hittin ground
Theres no trippin on mine, Im just gettin down
Sparkamatic, Im hangin tight like a fanatic
You trapped me once and I thought that
You might have it
So step down and lend me your ear
89 in my time! you, 90 is my year.
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music come on, come on, i
Play that funky music white boy cant hear you
Youre weakenin fast, yo! and I can tell it
Your bodys gettin hot, so, so I can smell it
So dont be mad and dont be sad
cause the lyrics belong to ice, you can call me dad
Youre pitchin a fit, so step back and endure
Let the witch doctor, ice, do the dance to cure
So come up close and dont be square
You wanna battle me -- anytime, anywhere
You thought that I was weak, boy, youre dead wrong
So come on, everybody and sing this song
Say -- play that funky music say, go white boy, go white boy go
Play that funky music go white boy, go white boy, go
Lay down and boogie and play that funky music till you die.
Play that funky music come on, come on, let me hear
Play that funky music white boy you say it, say it
Play that funky music a little louder now
Play that funky music, white boy come on, come on, come on
Play that funky music
Produced by vanilla ice
Published by ice baby music/qpm music (bmi)
song performed by by Vanilla Ice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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