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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)
Hello everyone!
Yesterday I heard a wonderful lively dancy-jazzy song, sung by a young woman with a very cute voice but unfortunately I was in a bar with other people and I couldn't concentrate on the lyrics but basically the message of the song was that the girl was so full of herself, like Prince's Cream but sung by a woman to herself in something like a Merilyn Monroe style :D It was not exactly jazz though, it was more dinamic, but I can't define the genre. In the lyrics there was a lot of "I'm (a) ... "
It was the-cutest-song I'd ever heard and I'll be so glad to hear it again!
I hope the description is helpful, if you need more details, ask me and I'll try to remember more...:tiphat:
Also, if you know where else I can ask about that song, I'll be grateful.
 

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Oh, I can cook, too, on top of the rest,
My seafood's the best in the town.
And I can cook, too.
My fish can't be beat,
My sugar's the sweetest around.
I'm a man's ideal of a perfect meal
Right down to the demi-tasse.
I'm a pot of joy for a hungry boy,
Baby, I'm cookin' with gas.
Oh, I'm a gumdrop,
A sweet lollipop,
A brook trout right out of the brook,
And what's more, baby, I can cook!
Some girls make magazine covers,
Some girls keep house on a dime,
Some girls make wonderful lovers,
But what a lucky find I'm.
I'd make a magazine cover,
I do keep house on a dime,
I make a wonderful lover,
I should be paid overtime!
'Cause I can bake, too, on top of the lot,
My oven's the hottest you'll find.
Yes, I can roast too,
My chickens just ooze,
My gravy will lose you your mind.
I'm a brand new note
On a table d'hôte,
But just try me à la carte.
With a single course
You can choke a horse.
Baby, you won't know where to start!
Oh, I'm an hors d'oeuvre,
A jelly preserve,
Not in the recipe book,
And what's more, baby, I can cook!
Baby, I'm cookin' with gas.
Oh, I'm a gumdrop,
A sweet lollipop,
A brook trout right out of the brook,
And what's more, baby, I can cook!
Some girls make wonderful jivers,
Some girls can hit a high "C",
Some girls make good taxi drivers,
But what a genius is me.
I'd make a wonderful jiver,
I even hit a high "C",
I make the best taxi driver,
I rate a big Navy "E"!
'Cause I can fry, too, on top of the heap,
My Crisco's as deep as a pool.
Yes, I can broil, too,
My ribs get applause,
My lamb chops will cause you to drool.
For a candied sweet
Or a pickled beet,
Step up to my smorgasbord.
Walk around until
You get your fill.
Baby, you won't ever be bored!
Oh, I'm a paté,
A marron glacé,
A dish you will wish you had took.
And what's more, baby, I can cook!!


I can Cook too. On the Town?
 

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"I can Cook too. On the Town?"

Great lyrics. That's the thing. Just about anything can be communicated through metaphor. It's an art. It can spark love, passion, play. That's what the language of jazz and the blues can teach. There's the appeal to the imagination rather than being explicit with the literal means of words and getting bounced out the door... metaphor as the product of the creative imagination.
 
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