Works in Progress #10: 800 LB Gorilla (Parts 1 & 2)

After singing through the bridge of this song a couple of times last night in practice, Jay asked just exactly what the hell this was about and I launched into an overly descriptive account of a dream I had when I was all of 15. I won’t get into details, but I had stayed up late watching “Planet of the Apes” and the movie’s parting imagery inspired my subconscious to dream lascivious dreams of an alarmingly come-hither, human-sized Statue of Liberty. This was a vivid memory from a turbulent age — an age when I came to realize that most of the things I loathed in other people I could conveniently find located squarely in my own thoughts and deeds. That’s what this song is about for me: trying to deal with other people’s shortcomings while becoming painfully aware of my own — hating somebody else’s behaviors while realizing that I was beginning to adopt those same behaviors because, well, they were effective. Stomping around like an 800 pound gorilla, for instance.

But yes, it’s also about how the Statue of Liberty is a woman. With needs.

I’ve said too much.

 

“Responsible. Just the sound of the word is old hat —

Crazy as a camper full of cats

Crackling with sound and furry

Pounding home that I should scurry.

I know the smell of fear

and smells just like gin and spaghetti.

Good God I’m more than ready

To say as he says and do as he does.

And I’d dearly love to be anywhere but here —

Just drive and drive, but never have to steer.

Run away. Far away.

You don’t know where I would fly:

Off the handle?

Out to the zoo?

Mr. Movies is showing me what I can do.

 

I stomp around, I stomp around, I stomp around.

Like an 800 pound gorilla.

I stomp around, I stomp around, I stomp around.

Like I own the town.

Like I’ll split the ground.

Like an 800 pound gorilla.

 

Sing song — King Kong — damn dirty apes.

Show me the shoreline; I’ll show you the shapes:

The copper crown of liberty’s shade,

The languid eyes, the serious gaze

Above the fabric dripping down like honey from above,

More than money do I love

That she is French, lives in New York,

Always wears sandals, and carries a torch.

 

I stomp around, I stomp around, I stomp around.

Like an 800 pound gorilla.

I stomp around, I stomp around, I stomp around.

Like I own the town.

Like I’ll split the ground.

Like an 800 pound gorilla.”

 

All of this particular material is copyrighted ©2013 Jeff Nelson.