#671: WHEN THE ROADS GET FURRY
I take the bus home from work every day, and at one of the stops a lot of international students from the University get on. Last week, I was sitting behind two Japanese students while they practiced singing an english song they had learned. I was impressed at how well they sang the tune, considering that it was a song with which they seemed unfamiliar.
I continued to enjoy their singing, and even started in with some humming of my own, until they hit the chorus.
Cuntly roads, take me home
To the place I belong
Wait. What? Cuntly roads?
West Virginia, mountain momma,
Take me home, cuntly roads
Again with cuntly. They got all the other Ls and Rs correct, but the cuntly thing was getting to me, so I tapped one of them on the shoulder. They turned to smile at me.
Uhm, excuse me. Your singing is very nice, but it's "country roads". It's cun-tree, like those trees out there. I pointed at some elms passing outside the bus window.
Oh, yes, thank you, the one on the right said. Cun-TREE. Yes?
Thank you., she said again. We sing this in a concert later. They both bobbed their heads and blushed a little.
For the remainder of the bus ride, we were treated to a sweetly sung "Country Roads".
I hope their concert went well.