Deirdre Flint - The King of the Rollerama lyrics

rate me

At twelve my friends read Teenbeat and wrote to Peter Frampton

Hung staple-scarred Leif Garret posters by their beds

It all seemed rather shallow, (my love was more mature)

It was the kind that ripped an adolescent heart to shreds

All week I'd dream about him in science and in math class

I couldn't eat I couldn't sleep ‘til Saturday arrived

Then I'd don my macramé vest, a sprits of Jean Natae

And I would go down to the rink so I could watch him roll on by

He was a real live eight-wheeled Mercury

Skating backwards to Take a Chance on Me

And I'm surprised I didn't just die from such a preteen drama

In his non-rent skates he was six feet tall!

Underneath that pulsing disco ball

His friends called him 'Wheels' he was

King of the Rollerama

(Well, he wasn't actually a king, he was a rink guard,

but to an adolescent on the verge of womanhood,

There Is no difference.)

He had a pretty girlfriend (they'd neck in his Baretta)

Sometimes she wore a poncho, she was so way cool

She hung out at the Snack Bar 'til they called couples only

And every time they took the rink, I'd blubber like a fool

I'll not forget that session during crack the whip once

Woah! I lost my balance and I fell off to the side

Oh, here comes my darling hero, too fast for him to stop

He skated over all my fingers and it didn't break his stride!!!

I didn't wash that cast for a month!

He was too much for girls like me to take

Leaving Old Spice breezes in his wake

And I'm surprised I didn't just die from such a preteen drama

It was there I learned what true love means

As he breezed by me in Jordache jeans

His real name was Mike, he was

King of the Rollerama

One day, the comb wedged in the back pocket of his

tight designer jeans defied all natural laws of surface

physics and fell out onto the rink. I clasped the relic to

my breast with trembling hands and all afternoon practiced

the words that would fall from my lips to his strong, manly ears.

Finally, as he was slipping a quarter into a game of Asteroids,

I made my move, skated up to him and I go,

"Um, you dropped this.

And he's like, "Thanks."

And as he grabbed for the comb HIS FINGERS

BRUSHED MINE and I remember thinking with a

clarity far beyond my years, that no event of my

life would ever equal that moment of perfect ecstasy.

And to be honest, nothing really ever has.

Oh, somewhere in this town tonight

Some paunchy guy clutches a silver whistle tight

Puts on his old blue satin jacket and relives the drama

Cause when you're rink guard in a one-mall town

Well, there's nowhere you can go but down but

You were a star!

King of the Rollerama.

The rumor that this is an accurate, first-person account

of my adolescence is a fallacy. I never wore Jean Natae.

I was always the Sweet Honesty type. ~D.F.