Shakespeare’s Sister by The Smiths Lyrics Meaning – Unveiling Morrisey’s Lyrical Tapestry
Lyrics
“Throw your skinny body down, son”
But I’m going to meet the one I love
So please don’t stand in my way
Because I’m going to meet the one I love
No, mama, let me go
Young bones groan and the rocks below say
“Throw your white body down”
But I’m going to meet the one I love
At last, at last, at last!
I’m going to meet the one I love
La-de-da, la-de-da
No, mama, let me go
No, no, no, no, no, no
I thought that if you had an acoustic guitar
Then it meant that you were
A protest singer
Oh, I can smile about it now
But at the time it was terrible
No, mama, let me go
No, no, no, no, no, no
The Smiths have long been the sovereigns of introspective and jangling anthems for the pensive soul, chiseling their legacy in the plush limestone of 80s rock history. With their lyrical prowess, they’ve often interwoven themes of youth, love, and rebellion against societal norms, all while maintaining a unique brand of melancholic wit. ‘Shakespeare’s Sister,’ a piece plucked from their beloved repertoire, serves as a prime example of their genius, engaging listeners in a rich lyrical narrative.
While seemingly simple in its composition, ‘Shakespeare’s Sister’ carries beneath its surface a riptide of profound implications and allusions. Morrisey’s sardonic baritone is a vessel for eloquent expressions on the struggles of youthful aspirations and the pains of feeling misunderstood. As we parse the lyrics and wrestle with the meaning, it becomes clear that Morrisey is the pied piper of the disenfranchised, leading a charge against the banalities of rigid tradition.
The Aching Bones of Youth’s Discontent
The opening lines, ‘Young bones groan, and the rocks below say, “Throw your skinny body down, son”‘ are replete with an ache that’s almost palpable. The Smiths are no strangers to discussing angst and the growing pains of the younger generation. Here, the groaning bones symbolize a youth in the throes of growing up, a universal experience laced with both the hope of becoming and the gnawing pain of not yet being.
The rocks below, ominous in their beckoning, hint at the seductive call of self-destruction that often haunts those at the fringes of society. It is both a siren song and a warning, encapsulating the perilous tightrope walk between ambition and despair that so many young individuals face.
Love as Rebellion: A Passageway to Freedom
When Morrisey intones, ‘But I’m going to meet the one I love,’ there is a powerful declaration of intent at play. In a world where the protagonist’s choices are met with resistance and commandments for self-denial, the pursuit of love is a radical act. This isn’t just romantic love; it’s the embodiment of choosing one’s own path in life, of bending the narrative arc toward one’s desires, regardless of the obstacles or the lack of familial approval.
The repetition of ‘No, mama, let me go’ becomes a mantra of emancipation. It is a youthful cry for autonomy, reminiscent of the rebellious pulse that thumped through many of The Smiths’ peer anthems. By invoking this passion, Morrisey doesn’t just sing a song—he howls a manifesto.
The Hidden Meanings in Morrisey’s Melancholy
Perhaps the song’s most evocative phrase, ‘Throw your white body down,’ is not just a repetition with a substituted adjective; it’s a hint at deeper societal issues—perhaps race, perhaps purity, but undeniably complex. There is a ghostly pallor to the image, suggesting themes of innocence lost, purity under siege, and the starkness of vulnerability.
Within this conceptual landscape, Morrisey’s voice is both narrator and character, observer and participant. By juggling these roles, he crafts a narrative that invites interpretation, that teases the psyche with its veiled meanings, and challenges the listener to confront the normative structures they exist within.
Laughing at the Face of Past Tribulations
‘I thought that if you had an acoustic guitar, Then it meant that you were A protest singer,’ Morrisey reminisces. Through this, The Smiths lay bare the naive conflation of artistry with activism, of the existence of a musical talisman that transforms the bearer into a voice for change. This reflective musing paints the picture of a tumultuous coming-of-age, a progression from innocence to experiencing the harsh trench of reality.
The ability to ‘smile about it now’ betrays the songwriter’s journey to peace with the situation’s initial ‘terrible’ nature. It indicates growth, maturity, and the eventual understanding that the symbols of rebellion – like the acoustic guitar – are not in themselves enough to effect change or signify depth.
The Most Memorable Lines Serve the Great Escape
‘La-de-da, la-de-da’ might be the most brilliant bit of dismissive nonchalance one could pen. It rings out both carefree and laden with sarcasm. These lines capture the essence of youthful exuberance paired with a tinge of cynicism—a fitting anthem for those eager to shirk off the manacles of expectation and run towards their own destinies armed with nothing but willful defiance.
Like lyrical chains breaking, ‘No, no, no, no, no, no’ is a wall of negation against the forces that strive to hold our protagonist in place. The words are a chanted spell, a protective ward, an incantation of liberation. Among these lines, we find the heart of ‘Shakespeare’s Sister’: a tune of escape, discovery and, ultimately, the profound desire for self-authorship in the narrative of our own lives.
