Authors making cameos in song lyrics.
“Margaret Atwood,” The Parkas
This is a photograph of me shouting my obscenities.
Underwater, no one can hear you.
When did I come up for air?
Is a part of me still down there distorting, becoming something new?
The people that we used to be are waiting for us underneath, but if we dive into the black, when we surface we just come back alone.
Margaret Atwood I confess, I’m drowning like all the rest.
My lungs are slowly changing shape.
This is not a ship to sail, it’s the belly of a whale, and I know this time we can’t escape.
“Stuck Between Stations,” The Hold Steady
The devil and John Berryman
Took a walk together.
They ended up on Washington
Talking to the river.
He said I’ve surrounded myself with doctors
And deep thinkers.
But big heads with soft bodies
Make for lousy lovers.
There was that night that we thought John Berryman could fly.
“We Call Upon the Author,” Nick Cave
I say prolix! Prolix! Something a pair of scissors can fix.
Bukowski was a jerk! Berryman was best!
He wrote like wet papier mache, went the Heming-way weirdly on wings and with maximum pain.
We call upon the author to explain.
“Sylvia Plath,” Ryan Adams
And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, she’d be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And I’d swim to the boat and I’d laugh
I gotta get me a Sylvia Plath