If ever a number painted men as nothing more than a bunch of dummies it's this flood of major league prattling.We've got this mysterious chick who seems to have this sad loser and every other guy in town going out of their heads for her,and for what?So she can saunter on by like they're all invisible on her way to the sea?He says she walks like a samba,swaying and swinging cool and gentle.As far as I'm aware a samba is a lively dance,so how would that equate with slow graceful movements?How can he tell her he loves her,and would give his heart gladly?How indeed?-She just walks calmly past him and the other dummies,not even looking near them-A classic ploy used by girls when they just know dudes are gaping at them,although none of these guys seem to realise she's simply got no time for a mob of fools like them.He even mentions that each time she passes he's stood there with this sickly,stupid smile for her-Will it ever penetrate that thick skull that she couldn't care less?What we've got here is a raving mad crush,but,to make matters even worse,we've also got every other mother's son in this crazy town suffering the same fate it seems.Conclusion?The guy who wrote this drivel was doing the side no favors-Each guy she passes goes Ahhh,indeed.I'm not saying that a pretty young woman wont turn heads,and would be the first to admit that dudes can have one track minds at times.What I am objecting to here is the strongest implication that we're not simply being presented here as normal human beings with normal urges,but as some feeble-minded mob who live in cloud cuckoo land,constantly lusting after young women,hoping against hope that they're in with a chance with them,when the stark reality is they would scarcely give them a second look or time of day,if they could but see it.The unfortunate fact of the matter is that there are indeed such deluded guys out there,although this number,as I've liberally shown,has all guys down as a bunch of dummies.In the fantasy land of this number I sometimes wish that this femme fatale,this dummy,and all those other dummies would take themselves down onto that beach,on into that sea and never come back.

One wonders just what the writers of some of that old stuff were smoking back then.The line is just plain silly.I mean,does the girl he's supposed to be talking to get out so little,that a yarn about some gangster will be the highlight of her month or something? That's what's coming across, and it's just totally crass.Mind you,the old stuff is packed to busting with daft lyrics like that.It might have worked at the time, but today it sounds ludicrous.

Did Frank forget the words?