Mark never gets the words to songs right. Never.
So it comes as no big surprise to me when I hear him happily and boisterously singing the following clearly incorrect lyrics . . .
Every dog wants to be the wombat king
Better run, better run, run to get the crown
Every dog wants to be the wombat king
Better run, better run, faster than the pound
Kallan is horrified, “Mommy, make him stop!”
Mark dances across the kitchen, “Every dog wants to be the wombat king!”
Kallan begs, “Please, Mommy. Stop him . . . no one is here to see, and I am still embarrassed.”
Maj walks into the room and listens to her father sing for a moment, “Daddy, there is no wombat king in that song. That is utterly ridiculous. Pumped-up kicks, Daddy. The song says pumped-up kicks.”
Mark thinks about this for a second, and I help him out, “You know, like those gym shoes that used to be popular that you pumped up. Pumped-up kicks.”
Now both girls turn to stare at me incredulously, and Kallan speaks, “Are you insane, Mommy? The song is not about blow-up shoes. Who ever heard of blow-up shoes?”
Maj agrees, “Mother, you are possibly from a different planet where people blow up their shoes like balloons. Pumped-up kicks means . . .” She turns to Kallan, “What does it mean, anyway?”
Kallan is thoughtful, “I think it means people who are having a really big party. If you get a kick out of something, it means you like it, so I am thinking that pumped-up kicks means really big enjoyment and that’s like a party. Probably.”
Maj turns back to me, “It’s either a fun party or something else we don’t know about, but I can tell you one thing, and that’s that the song is not about inflatable shoes. That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”
Kallan taps Maj on the shoulder, “Dumber than dogs who want to be wombat king, Maj?”
Maj corrects herself, “Inflatable shoes are the second dumbest thing I have ever heard.”
I walk over to stand next to Mark, “What’s the rest of the song about, anyway? I hear it on the radio all the time, but I never hear any words but the chorus. I only ever hear you guys singing the chorus.”
Both girls break into song and sing the very catchy chorus together . . .
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run . . . faster than my girl
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run . . . faster than my brother
Jazz hands!
I clap, “Yeah, but what does the rest of the song say? And by the way, they are so talking about the gym shoes that pump up. Those shoes were quite popular for a short while a long time ago.”
Kallan walks over and reaches to pat me on the shoulder, “Poor uninformed Mommy.”
“Sassy child. Come with me.”
Maj and Kallan follow me down the stairs to my computer, and I type in . . . pumped up shoes . . . and then click on the top search result for the Reebok Pump, “See? They are expensive athletic shoes that have a little air-pump in them to make them fit better around your feet.”
The girls stare in disbelief.
Kallan recovers first, “But why are they singing about these shoes?”
“I don’t know, babe.” I type a few more keys . . . pumped up kicks lyrics . . . and then click on the top search result.
Kallan points with a finger, “Hey, we’ve been getting the words wrong to the only part we thought we knew!” She starts singing the chorus with its correct words as she reads, and Maj joins her.
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, outrun my gun
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, faster than my bullet
Wait . . . what?
I scan quickly through the rest of the lyrics.
Fuck.
The girls turn to stare at me.
Fuck.
“Hmmm . . . this is not a happy party song at all, ladies. This is a song about a person with big problems who is very angry and decides to hurt people. To kill people.”
Kallan re-reads the lyrics, “So he’s angry at the cool kids with the nice shoes, and he is telling them to use their fancy shoes to try to outrun being killed?”
Sigh, “Yeah.”
Maj is annoyed, “That is not very nice of this band to sing a song that sounds like summer and parties and have it turn out to be about running for your life from a crazy person with a gun.”
Sigh, “No. No, it’s not.”
We stare together at my computer screen in silence for a minute.
The girls run off to do other things before they notice the comments after the song lyrics that suggest the song is based on the events surrounding the Westroad Mall Shootings a few years ago.
Sigh.
I head up to find Mark and snuggle with him and explain.
He kisses the top of my head, “Sometimes, it’s better when you think the song is about dogs yearning for wombat royalty.”
The girls dance through the room, singing happily . . .
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, faster than my bullet.
Sigh.
Foster The People, indeed.
Want to hear the song?
