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You gotta explain what âlibetyâ is first. I need to know my choices.
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âLibetyâ = libations. So drinks are on the house!
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Itâs even better if you read the English lyrics:
ENGLISH LYRICS:
I have a toe ring that matches hers.
Saying I will never take it off, I wonder how long my promise will last.
I hold her hand with my right hand.
No matter when, Iâll always keep my grip, tightly.
My toes, with red pedicure, feel cold at their tip.
I spin around in circles in my pointe shoes.
Iâm doing what everyone else is doing. Not only do I not want to think,
I also feel more at ease this way.
I like this. I like this very much.
I laugh. I allow myself to laugh.
When I open my mouth, the tip of my tongue has a cut.
I laugh. I allow myself to laugh.
I open my mouth and curl my tongue to expose its underside.
Even my crying face is faked crying. I am Liar Betty.
The sugar cubes Iâm chewing in my mouth are sweet,
but the teeth on the right side of my mouth are aching.
I had some secret talk with that girl.
Saying I will never divulge it, I wonder how long my promise will last.
I linked my pinkie with hers and made a promise.
The two of us, in a quiet voice, promised.
My toenails, with their pedicure peeled off, become sharp and pointy.
The laces of my pointe shoes have snapped.
Everyoneâs looking at me. Not only do they not understand a thing,
theyâre making me feel very uncomfortable.
I donât know anything. Donât ask me anything.
I hate this. I hate this so much that Iâm crying.
The darkness Iâm trying to toss away is very dim.
I hate this. I hate this so much that Iâm crying.
The bottom of this darkness Iâm trying to toss away is very cold.
Even my crying face is faked crying.
I am Liar Betty.
This tasteless chewing gum tastes bitter.
I blew a bubble, but it popped.
Before, we used to be able to walk together in synchronization.
Now that Iâm tripping, would it be okay
if I take off these shoes and walk barefoot?
No oneâs here. No oneâs here. Why?
Iâm all alone. Iâm scared of even someoneâs stare.
No oneâs here. No oneâs here. Why?
Iâm all alone. Now I want even someoneâs stare.
Even my crying face is faked crying. I am Liar Betty.
The stirred milk tea is lukewarm.
My fingers slipped and the milk tea spilled.
7 Likes
Then both, def for sure!!
7 Likes
I guess the word âboogalooâ just means âsequelâ here, as in Civil War II: Knuckledragger Boogaloo
13 Likes
Drinks for trans people!
9 Likes
Snag, tag tag tag, indexâŚ
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Tangential, but I feel like someone at Newsweek might be in the tank for TrumpâŚ
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âBoogalooâ is either a dance thatâs no longer hip, or a subpar sequel to something that wasnât all that great to begin with.
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It was also Ringoâs swipe at Paul. Though he denies it now.
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So everyone else was mad at Paul?
( I donât know much Beatles history, other than some people still blame Yoko Ono and her bad music for breaking up the band.)
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At least he got a decent song out of it.
Everyone had to have been angry at the others at some point. Apparently- they all had to call Ringo and convince him to come back for the last album. Heâd had enough. But it wasnât working without him.
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in an interview I heard with George he said they were all pretty tired of being The Beatles and weâre pretty much doing their own thing at the end anyway.
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John Lennon (or John and Yoko) wrote âHow Do You Sleepâ, and he didnât pull punches.
McCartneyâs album RAM had one on there poking a stick at John I think.
Sounds like a Quentin Tarentino movie. Everybody pulled their triggers.
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IIRC Lennon called McCartneyâs old-timey piano songs âgranny musicâ
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Ouch; shots fired.
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Accredited by the White House no less.
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Remember some new commenters trying to say this guy was a decent and innocent man?
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