A couple of days ago I took Jo's "Best of 10cc" CD with me to work (in MP3 form on my USB stick).
As far as I could tell, 10cc is a band that made two songs: I don't like reggae, dah, and I'm not in love, doh. It was therefore quite interesting to see, or rather hear, that there are a couple more CCs to 10cc than meets the eye.
Anyway, the song that really caught my ears was "I'm Mandy Fly Me". It caught me because it's actually a familiar song, one of those that you hear on the radio from time to time but have no idea who it is that sings it. After recognizing the song I had a look in Media Player (Microsoft's much beloved player that won't load your CPU at all - sarcasm sarcasm) to see the song's name, which immediately raised the question: What the flock does "I'm Mandy Fly Me" mean? It's not just that; between the singer's desperate narration and the lyrics that mention the girl from Dr No, the song has managed to cast this weird charm on me.
The next few hours were spent with back and forth listening to Mandy's adventures, but between work requiring more concentration than it deserves and other interruptions common to the office environment I was still unable to crack the lyrics' code. I did enjoy the experience, though: It's nice to fall for a song from time to time; a person who doesn't fall from time to time cannot experience all that life has to offer.
I often have a song stuck in my mind for ages. Last time I was down with this disease was during our round the world trip, with Simon & Garfunkel's "Old Friends" playing non stop. It kept reciting "Can you imagine us years from today sharing a park-bench so quietly, how terribly strange to be seventy" and I kept thinking I will never share a park-bench with Haim in my seventies.
Eventually I gave up and googled the song's lyrics. I think I managed to crack Da Mandy Code.