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By: Paul S Cilwa |
Posted: 8/14/2026 |
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Page Views: 65 |
| Hashtags: #Music |
| Relax, it's supposed to be funny. |
| Estimated reading time: 2 minute(s) (469 words) |
One of the classes I took at St. Johns River Jr. College in Palatka, Florida was Voice.
No, really! And I loved Carpenters, especially the way Karen could open her throat and
drop to a deeper register (I now know that's called dropping into chest voice), since
I could do that and, in my head at least, it sounded awesome. So that's how I
sang in my Voice class.
The class was one-on-one with (I think his name was) Mr. Kora, who I now imagine was a
former opera singer who found himself trying not to scream at students stylishly
duplicating Joan Baez' vibrato or James Taylor's nasality. So when I did a Karen
Carpenter "drop," that's probably what pushed him over the edge. "Vhat is that?"
he asked in his Eastern European accent. "Oh," I said. "Karen Carpenter does that." "You
want to sound like Karen Carpenter?" he replied, possibly having no idea who that was.
"Then get a sex change operation."
Sounds Like
Carpenters
Every Song I Sing (Sounds Like The Carpenters)
By Paul S Cilwa
Lyrics
I sit down with some paper and I copy down some lines
I try to tell how much you mean to me
How very, very special and unique you really are
But somehow I can't capture your individuality
'Cause everything I sing sounds like the Carpenters
Every tune I write comes out the same
I try to be unique; that's the feeling that I seek
But I sound so much like Richard and like Karen it's a shame
When I was young, in high school, my feelings were my own
No one knew what it was like just to be me
I felt so independent knowing I could be alone
And brave to know that I was feelin' free
But then we met and somethin' that had not happened before
Happened, and at last I went along
And I felt the way they do in all the tunes that bore
A little sad to see the end of my own song.
'Cause every song I sing sounds like the Carpenters
Yeah, every tune I write sounds just the same
I knew I ask uniqueness of an all-conforming world
And no way I can ever place the blame
Yeah, every song I sing sounds like the Carpenters
Every melody comes out the same
For all I know, the superstars have all gone out for good
My own originality's now lame.