
Here’s a particularly fine song lyric from Californian 80s indie band Camper Van Beethoven, off of their 1989 disc Key Lime Pie. The song is a folky number in march time with violin, and David Lowery’s singing is exquisitely pained and raw. Following this, they released no new material until 2004.
All Her Favorite Fruit
By David Lowery
I drive alone, home from work
And I always think of her
Well late at night I call her
But I never say a wordAnd I can see her squeeze the phone
between her chin and shoulder
And I can almost smell her breath
faint with a sweet scent of decayShe serves him mashed potatoes
And she serves him peppered steak, with corn
Pulls her dress up over her head
Lets it fall to the floorAnd does she ever whisper in his ear
all her favorite fruit?
And all the most exotic
places they are cultivated?And I’d like to take her there,
rather than this train
And if I were a civil servant,
I’d have a place in the coloniesWe’d play croquet behind white-washed walls
and drink our tea at four
Within interventions
distance of the embassyThe midday air grows thicker with the heat
And drifts towards the line of trees
Where negroes blink their eyes,
they sink into siestaAnd we are rotting like a fruit
underneath a rusting roof
We dream our dreams
and sing our songs of love, fecundityOf life and love
Of life and love
Of life and love
Update 25 April ’08: I really like the way he reverses “sweet with a faint scent” and gets “her breath, faint with a sweet scent of decay”.
[More blog entries about music, poetry, campervanbeethoven; musik, poesi, campervanbeethoven.]