The other day I heard an acoustic version of Pete Townshend’s “Slit Skirts” and actually got to listen to the lyrics. It’s depressing stuff:
The incense burned away and the stench began to rise
And lovers now estranged avoided catching each others’ eyesAnd girls who lost their children cursed the men who fit the coil
And men not fit for marriage took their refuge in the oil
No one respects the flame quite like the fool who’s badly burned
From all this you’d imagine that there must be something learnedSlit skirts, Jeanie never wears those slit skirts
I don’t ever wear no ripped shirts
Can’t pretend that growing older never hurts.Knee pants, Jeanie never wears no knee pants
Have to be so drunk to try a new dance
So afraid of every new romance…
I’m number one in the home team, but I still feel unfulfilled.
A silent voice in her broken heart complaining that I’m unskilled.And I know that when she thinks of me, she thinks of me as him,
But, unlike me, she don’t work off her frustration in the gym.Recriminations fester and the past can never change
What the hell? Did we really used to rock out to that?
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