I just listened to this seven times in a row riding in my truck. I am (perhaps oddly) one of the last people who’d argue that music lyrics are poetry, but these verses—these triplets—are close:
“If she walks by, the menfolk get in rows [it also sounds like “engrossed”!]
If she winks her eye, the bread slice turns to toast
She got a lot of what they call ‘The Most’…!
“She mesmerizes every mother’s son
If she smiles, beefsteak becomes well-done
She make Grampa feeeeel like 21!”
The ivory-tower-occupiers, Rex, might call that “demotic poetry.” Whatever.
I also love the shift from “The girl can’t help it” to “I can’t help it.” The mad vocals, Earl Palmer’s razor-sharp and rock-hard drumming, and Lee Allen’s one-man sax section are perfectly fitted to the feeling behind those words.
Man alive.
No wonder Frank Tashlin and John Waters were inspired to create scenes in their films just to use it (I bet):
(Adapted from a Facebook post made by the blogger on 1/10/19.)
Living To Listen 