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The Rolling Stones, "Brown Sugar"
Misheard Lyrics:
Dull girl say she found her cut-off jeans
Sewn in the market down in New Orleans
This God-old sleazer know he's doing alright
Hear him with the women just around midnight
...
Drums beating cold, English blood runs hot
Lady of the house - honey where it's gonna stop?
How far? - I knows that he's doing alright
...
Ah, get on, brown sugar, how come you taste so good, yeah?
Ah, got to tell ya 'bout, the brown sugar
Just like a black girl should, yeah
Now, I bet your mama was a chess show queen
And all your boyfriends were sweet sixteen
Sewn in the market down in New Orleans
This God-old sleazer know he's doing alright
Hear him with the women just around midnight
...
Drums beating cold, English blood runs hot
Lady of the house - honey where it's gonna stop?
How far? - I knows that he's doing alright
...
Ah, get on, brown sugar, how come you taste so good, yeah?
Ah, got to tell ya 'bout, the brown sugar
Just like a black girl should, yeah
Now, I bet your mama was a chess show queen
And all your boyfriends were sweet sixteen
Original Lyrics:
Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields
Sold in the market down in New Orleans
Scarred old slaver know he's doing alright
Hear him whip the women just around midnight
...
Drums beating, cold English blood runs hot
Lady of the house wonderin' when it's gonna stop
House boy knows that he's doing alright
...
Ah, get on, brown sugar, how come you taste so good, yeah?
Ah, got me craving the, the brown sugar
Just like a black girl should, yeah
...
Nah, I bet your mama was a tent show queen
And all her boyfriends were sweet sixteen
Sold in the market down in New Orleans
Scarred old slaver know he's doing alright
Hear him whip the women just around midnight
...
Drums beating, cold English blood runs hot
Lady of the house wonderin' when it's gonna stop
House boy knows that he's doing alright
...
Ah, get on, brown sugar, how come you taste so good, yeah?
Ah, got me craving the, the brown sugar
Just like a black girl should, yeah
...
Nah, I bet your mama was a tent show queen
And all her boyfriends were sweet sixteen
I really dig my lyrics, especially the relocated comma in "Drums beating cold, English blood runs hot" (that's the way Mick sings it). A MUCH better contrast, as who wants to sing about 'cold English blood' anyway? Ah, the days of AM radio.
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