There’s this “ideas” page on Facebook that I post on occasionally. They’re been making “Smooth” jokes lately, which is to day, jokes related to the song “Smooth” by Santana featuring Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20. The joke really just seems to be that it exists.
Anyway, because I seek attention, I converted the majority of the song to Shakespearean-style iambic pentameter, and thought it might be fun to do this with other songs as well. If I keep this up, I’ll call the series “Iambic Poptameter.” Anyway, here it is:
The one is hot with distance like the inch
done seven times from midday’s sun on high.
Your words—a whisp to melt the masses whole,
I hear them yet so cool you stay below.
Da Vinci’s muse from slums of Spain, my groove—
its step you aptly give unto its form.
Were you to say this life enough ungood,
the world I’d give to lift you up, your mood
be suited by a change of self, is due
to better be, thyself a form so smoothe.
Alike the ocean, moon-beneath it be,
do mirror ‘motions gained, received from ye.
so smoothe, this kind of love—make real the heart
you give, or elsewise do forget and part.