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MacArthur Park is on the radio right now.
This song wins the all time award for the worst use of lyrical metaphors.
Spring was never waiting for us, girl
It ran one step ahead
As we followed in the dance
Between the parted pages and were pressed,
In love's hot, fevered iron
Like a striped pair of pants
CHORUS
MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down...
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Oh, no!
I recall the yellow cotton dress
Foaming like a wave
(What does that even mean!?)
On the ground around your knees
The birds, like tender babies in your hands
And the old men playing checkers by the trees
__________________
He that lives upon hope will die fasting.
~ Benjamin Franklin
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