She was just a bright young thing
Not yet fully grown
But she caught my eye across the room
She cleverly made herself known
So I took her home with me
And introduced her to her new friends
It was tense at first
But soon they were happy as larks
Oh Eloise, you are such a tease
Please please me Eloise!
At first I offered my hand
Hoping she wouldn’t panic and fly
She seemed okay with my touch
And she let me stroke her by and by
I was hoping for more from this child of mine
I longed for her weight on my hand
And before too long she perched herself there
As if I had a magic wand
Eloise, you didn’t freeze
You were perfectly happy to please!
Soon you were hopping aboard
As I whisked you through the air
You liked to jump on and off
Obviously enjoying the game
I wanted to set you free
To let you spread your wings
It took awhile to coax you out
But eventually we had our flings
Eloise, girl of my dreams
So soft and sleek with your feathery gleams!
Together we dance and sing
You have no fear of my giant self
You like to nibble at my fingers
We love across the gulf
Eloise, oh Eloise
Every day you please
And every day I please you too
It’s the perfect union of beauty and beast
Eloise, my little yellow bird
The trend of the lyrics is a little off on that one. Perhaps intended., in which case a little risky. As for guitar preferences, I’ve played electric before, way back in the eighties–garage band punk. The chicks seemed to dig it, if not most of the dudes.
Very intended and possibly risky–but risky is good.
For the record I did actually train one of my parakeets (budgies) to do all these things, simply by coaxing. It is noteworthy that the other three were completely resistant to such training, which shows what a difference in brain and behavior can exist within a single species. When I mentioned writing a song about this to my music teacher she suggested I make it ambiguous between human and avian.
Interesting! Thanks for sharing the story behind the song. Incidentally, several years ago, a thought struck me like a thunderbolt: “What if I could find a book that can do for my songwriting, what Ludek Pachman’s ‘The Middle Game in Chess’ did for my chess game?” (It improved my game immensely — thought I stopped playing in tournaments soon after.) Unfortunately, I haven’t yet found such a book. But one book I can recommend — though it’s a bit dated — is Al Kasha & Joel Hirschhorn’s “If They Ask You, You Can Write a Song.” You might gain the most from the chapters that were inaccessible to me. The ones dealing with chord progressions and that kind of thing.
I regard Eloise as a kind of genius among birds of her species. I find with songs that the important thing is an initial concept encapsulated in a phrase, so it’s all in the title; the rest is mechanics. But like creativity in general it is something of a mystery.
Thanks. That’s great advice. Ironically, the only song I wrote that someone set to music was one of the ones I wrote without having a title in mind. The story behind your song later brought to mind a 2008 review of a book (“Alex & Me”) about an African grey. Reading about one of the things this very smart bird did made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Similarly, I had that same sensation upon watching a video years ago in which a dolphin repositioned itself into a standing position, only to then quickly swim off. Scientists were recording dolphins and playing back their sounds. It’s like this dolphin was saying “Okay, you can imitate me, but guess what, I can imitate you.” Incidentally — and don’t share this with your feathered friends — the last song I wrote (which was a few years ago) just happened to be titled “I Wish I Were a Cat.”
We have a tendency to underestimate animals, mainly because they don’t speak (or don’t speak like us). I often try to imagine being a cat for a few minutes–I have two. They seem so serene.