Showing posts with label Widmore *. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Widmore *. Show all posts

Friday, June 11, 2010

MacCutcheon (Dublin O'Shea, Lonnie Donegan / Joe Brown)


"What you're not, is worthy of drinking my whiskey. How could you ever be worthy of my daughter?"
- Widmore, Flashes Before Your Eyes

The scene in Flashes Before Your Eyes in which Charles Widmore so thoroughly disses Desmond with some help from a 60-year-old bottle of scotch remains one of the most iconic in the series.  I'm still not entirely sure if Charles was as oblivious to Desmond's previous existence as he seemed in that scene, but here I'm going to assume that he was. Here's Charles to the tune of the Irish Rovers' Dublin O'Shea.

MacCutcheon

“Here’s a little drink, boy.  MacCutcheon’s the best.
Although you’re my guest, I have deemed you unworthy,
And if you’re too base for the scotch on my chest,
Then how could I hand you my daughter, you fool?”

He came to my office to look for a job,
But he seemed like a slob, just a slouch and a roustabout.
Still, I was willing to toss him a bob.
Then Desmond asked for my daughter.

“Here’s a little drink, boy.  MacCutcheon’s the best.
Although you’re my guest, I have deemed you unworthy,
And if you’re too base for the scotch on my chest,
Then how could I hand you my daughter, you fool?”

I spoke of a hero, the Navy man Mac,
And mentioned the plaques earned by Admiral Anderson.
Maybe I could’ve cut the poor lad some slack,
But he’d landed himself in hot water.

“Here’s a little drink, boy.  MacCutcheon’s the best.
Although you’re my guest, I have deemed you unworthy,
And if you’re too base for the scotch on my chest,
Then how could I hand you my daughter, you fool?”

He left in a flurry, full of anguish and shame,
And I hoped that his name wouldn’t come back to haunt me.
But Desmond, determined to earn my acclaim,
Turned himself to a consummate sailor.

“Here’s a little drink, boy.  MacCutcheon’s the best.
Although you’re my guest, I have deemed you unworthy,
And if you’re too base for the scotch on my chest,
Then how could I hand you my daughter, you fool?”

He got to the Island I lost long ago,
And he made the hatch blow with the turn of his key.
Then he married Penelope.  Galling, I know,
But I’ll no longer call him a failure.

“Here’s a little drink, boy.  MacCutcheon’s the best.
Although you’re my guest, I have deemed you unworthy,
And if you’re too base for the scotch on my chest,
Then how could I hand you my daughter, you fool?”

Dublin O'Shea

Monday, April 12, 2010

Widmore's Whiskey (Nancy Whiskey, Traditional)


Desmond: What kind of whiskey is that?
Charlie: It's, uh - it just says MacCutcheon.
Desmond: Alright then, let's have it!
- Flashes Before Your Eyes

In Flashes Before Your Eyes, Desmond wants to lay off the booze, but he'll make an exception for MacCutcheon whiskey. Here's a reflection by him to the tune of the Irish Rovers' Nancy Whiskey.

Widmore’s Whiskey

Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.
Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.

I was a sailor, a restless sailor.
I was a soldier, a silent monk…
Even tried to be a doctor.
I always wound up a raving drunk.

Is that whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey?
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.
Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.

In an ancient monastery,
Hiding from my intended wife,
I imbibed the wine we bottled,
So I got sacked from monastic life.

Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.
Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.

As I was leaving, I met a woman.
Before that woman, I had no base.
She became my guiding vision.
Penny Widmore, my saving grace.

Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.
Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.

I went in to see her father,
A man of aristocracy.
He poured a bit of his prized MacCutcheon
Just to say it was too good for me.

Is that whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey?
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.
Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.

I was a sailor, a restless sailor.
I drank so much that I thought I would drown.
I’m going sober, clean and sober,
But that’s MacCutcheon, so pass it down.

Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.
Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.
Whiskey, whiskey, Widmore’s whiskey.
Whiskey, whiskey, pass it down.

Nancy Whiskey

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

A Flash Before My Eyes (Same Old Lang Syne, Dan Fogelberg)

It's Desmond time again, from the same episode as before. Here, he's grumbling to himself about his recent experience following an attempt by Charlie to find out what he's been up to. To the tune of Dan Fogelberg's Same Old Lang Syne.

A Flash Before My Eyes

I'm sorry, brother; you don't want to know -
And if you knew, you'd not believe -
What I have felt, the things I've heard and viewed,
All the insights I've received...

I struggled to enlighten John at first
And said his plan was suicide.
But when that failed, I made the whole hatch burst,
Hoping Kelvin hadn't lied.

With crimson droplets drying on my hand,
I woke bewildered on the floor,
Beholding Penny, who I cherish
And I had feared I'd see no more.

Still dazed and wondering if it was true,
I sought her father for a chat
To speak the words I hadn't dared before,
But he pounded my dreams flat.

He drank a toast to privilege,
So icy and high-brow,
As his derision drove me to the edge.
Could I defy him now?

Armed with a second chance, I wouldn't let
The moment pass. I had to try.
Forget her father! I would make a stand
With the best ring I could buy.

Yes, I intended to propose to her,
But in another flash I knew
That I must leave her, though it tore
My tarnished heart and soul in two.

That creepy woman from the jewelry store
Declared to me while my head swirled
That hurting Penny was my destiny
And I had to save the world.

He drank a toast to privilege,
So icy and high-brow,
As his derision drove me to the edge.
Could I defy him now?

He drank a toast to privilege;
I stammered in surprise,
Reliving my abasement in
A flash before my eyes.

I sadly stumbled to the pub that night,
Reviewing my distressing day.
Was it self-sacrifice or just self-doubt?
Did it need to end that way?

Was I heroic or was I a fool?
I contemplated it, and then
I opened up my eyes and I was on
This island once again.