Let's do it. Let's rewrite this lyric in the exact same format, with lines, syllables and accents matching, and about the same topic, the fire at Notre Dame cathedral, but in a way that would be acceptable to most of us.
P&O, just stick to playing the drums & leave the lyrical aspect to someone else, please...I was looking for something more romantic, like "An Officer And A Gentlemane" or slt.
In Notre Dame
I went for a walk, to inhale
the tranquil, cool, holy air
But I could taste a trace
Of a burning stair
And the hunchback said
"They wanna kill us“
In Notre Dame
I went for a walk to inhale
The tranquil, cool, holy air
But I could sense the hate
from another uholy land
And the hunchback cries
Embrasse-moi!
I'm not your little drummer boy, Mick! Offer me something better and I'll let you convince me.P&O, just stick to playing the drums & leave the lyrical aspect to someone else, please...![]()
Hunchback of Notre Dame
I know who killed you
Quasimodo, I know who killed you
Quando Quando Quasimodo
Before any investigations
Esmeralda said:
“Kevin Spacey didn’t just touch me
This isn’t lecherism!”
Quando Quando Quasimodo
The bells, the bells(!)
of home are ringing out
And I feel all alone
Before writing my lyrics, I said
This is not plagiarism!
Mort ici, we know who tried to kill you
It was Jesse
Behind the Church
With a candelabra
It wasn't arson
But your arse was hot
And Damon wept tears of blood
And everything was super homoerotic
And then you sang badly
And Fiona dreamt
of the Virgin Mary
It was all very homocatholic
I think you're secretly attracted to brown-skinned terrorists
But you're too ashamed
And yet that would be perfectly understandable
you'd be united in your
Pathological need for attention
And your suicide pact with a terrorist would be more exciting than your current status
for us all, not just for your an![]()
The original is hard to beat, isn't it? And noble to fully dignify the artist and their art. There's no doubt Morrissey can fit epics in the gaps between simple words of usually one meaning. But that's not the issue here. The issue is the likelihood of getting the go-ahead for its release. And making a record deal easier for Morrissey and fans is what this is about, the desire for it being written all over the faces ; )Notre Dame, we know who tried to kill you
Notre Dame, we know who tried to kill you
Notre Dame, we will not be silent
Notre Dame, we will not be silent
Before investigations, they said:
This is not terrorism!
Notre Dame, we will not be silent
Notre Dame, we will not be silent
Before investigations, they said:
There's nothing to see here!
Notre Dame, a cold hand just touched me
Notre Dame, a cold hand just touched me
Notre Dame, we will not be silent
Notre Dame, we will not be silent
Before any investigations, they said:
This is not terrorism!
Notre Dame, a cold hand just touched
The original is hard to beat, isn't it? And noble to fully dignify the artist and their art. There's no doubt Morrissey can fit epics in the gaps between simple words of usually one meaning. But that's not the issue here. The issue is the likelihood of getting the go-ahead for its release. And making a record deal easier for Morrissey and fans is what this is about, the desire for it being written all over the faces ; )
My effort feels sacrilegious, because it is sacrilegious, but only intended to show that some changes could take the offending blame out of it. Everyone knows governments, authorities and organisations often lie to the public they're supposed to serve, so this is not even about saying Morrissey's wrong. The real emergency is that without music, the world dies ; )
Notre Dame, God knows what hell you've been through.
Notre Dame, God knows what hell you've been through.
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Even blessed congregations, they said,
Glory be to tourism!
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Even blessed congregations, they said,
there's so much to see here!
Notre Dame, fire marred your breadth. Pity.
Notre Dame, fire marred your breadth. Pity.
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Even blessed congregations, they said,
Welcome, globalism!
Notre Dame, fire marred your breadth. Pity.
Notre Dame, your spire bedecked Paris.
Not that unskilled version but words playing less with fire. Could the lyrics be edited at this stage? One way or the other, if the censor-baiting doesn't stop, there'll be no option but to get out the wet plimsoll...
I hope you aren't seriousThe original is hard to beat, isn't it? And noble to fully dignify the artist and their art. There's no doubt Morrissey can fit epics in the gaps between simple words of usually one meaning. But that's not the issue here. The issue is the likelihood of getting the go-ahead for its release. And making a record deal easier for Morrissey and fans is what this is about, the desire for it being written all over the faces ; )
My effort feels sacrilegious, because it is sacrilegious, but only intended to show that some changes could take the offending blame out of it. Everyone knows governments, authorities and organisations often lie to the public they're supposed to serve, so this is not even about saying Morrissey's wrong. The real emergency is that without music, the world dies ; )
Notre Dame, God knows what hell you've been through.
Notre Dame, God knows what hell you've been through.
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Even blessed congregations, they said,
Glory be to tourism!
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Even blessed congregations, they said,
there's so much to see here!
Notre Dame, fire marred your breadth. Pity.
Notre Dame, fire marred your breadth. Pity.
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Notre Dame, mother to the migrant
Even blessed congregations, they said,
Welcome, globalism!
Notre Dame, fire marred your breadth. Pity.
Notre Dame, your spire bedecked Paris.
Not that unskilled version but words playing less with fire. Could the lyrics be edited at this stage? One way or the other, if the censor-baiting doesn't stop, there'll be no option but to get out the wet plimsoll...
A typically Morrissey-eque jab at Johnny Marr there. Is this who he's accusing of arson?Notre Dame, fire marred your breadth.