From the album Voyeur Princess
When Ludwig van Beethoven went to his rest
His grieving admirers who loved him the best
Snipped locks of his hair from the Master's dear head
For a keepsake to cherish now that he was dead.
And some of these curls are still with us today
And recently Sotheby's auctioned some away
And now its proud owners are ordering tests
Of the hair of the genius who composed the best.
The experts believe that they soon can explain
How poor Ludwig composed in his deafness and pain
Though afflicted with kidney stones and a bad liver
The Nine and One Half symphonies still delivered.
For how could he manage and how could he cope
Unless he was constantly shooting up dope?
Though they know he indulged in red wine's heavy use,
They hope they'll find traces of morphine abuse.
And now they are scanning poor Beethoven's head
For the poisons of mercury, arsenic and lead
For each metal accounts for the scherzo behavior
We've come to expect from this tortured creator.
My old music teacher cries in shrill disgust
"The mercury tests are for syphilis!"
She's tells me in anger: "It leaves me perplexed
I'm certain my Beethoven never had sex!"
Ludwig van Beethoven, left bald in his grave
Decomposes, rolls over, begs us to behave.
It's not in his hair that his mystery uncurls
But rather in each note he left to the world.
Lyrics and music ©1995 Marilyn Rucker Norrod