Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Bohemian Rhapsody

Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye, everybody
I've got to go

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, oooooooh (Anyway the wind blows)
I don't want to die
Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go
Let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go

Let him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go
Let me go (Will not let you go)
Let me go (Will not let you go) (Never, never, never, never)
Let me go, o, o, o, o
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
(Oh mama mia, mama mia) Mama Mia, let me go
Beelzebub has the devil put aside for me, for me, for me!

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Somewhere I have a video of Shanna and a few of her friends lip syncing this song with a multicolored backdrop..colors swirling all over the place. They made these videos at the senior high graduation party. I never realized how sinister these lyrics were  until today when they were blasted through the funeral hall home. They didn't play Queen's version; no they played this upbeat polka version (Bohemian Polka)in which the lyrics were even easier to discern. The polka part just seemed even more than a slap in the face.

Can we spell inappropriate? Or maybe it is appropriate. I am sure that this was someones last wish to have this music played but to me, not all last wishes need to be followed especially when they are capable of causing so much pain.

In the past five years, my friend has lost a husband and now a son. Maybe it is just me but this song was especially sad.

It was held in the west, flat suburbs. The funeral home looked familiar. Indeed, I had gone there to arrange details around my father's death. I didn't stay for lunch as I hardly knew anyone there except my friend. I did meet the rest of her family, which was interesting.

I did stop in the Indian section of Canton on the way back to pick up treats. They even have story time in the local library in Tamil. Unfortunately, they stopped making homemade Indian ice cream. No fig ice cream for me. I got a huge dosa with all sorts of chutneys. Yum.

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