Is This The Real Life
Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, so escape from reality.
Punctuation probably off a bit.
How did we get from Bohemian Rhapsody to where we are today?
I remember hearing that song for the first time and being actually terrified. The implications of the words in the opening line of this song are about as direct a set of questions as has ever been asked.
For me, my whole world stopped. I was around 7 years old when i first heard Queen, A Night at the Opera. I heard Bohemian Rhapsody on the radio first. And I kind of went into a daze. repeating the opening lines over and over. And not coming up with any real answers. I was literally terrified.
A few days later I was in the basement where we had the stereo. My dad had bought the record a week or so prior and I was now listening to it down stairs. By myself. For the first time.
I knew the name of the song that had shook me to the core. I put on side one and track one, Death on Two Legs came on. I was even more terrified. I was almost completely frozen, sitting on the floor, looking at the cover of the album.
I kind of blanked through Death on Two Legs and then the second song came on. Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon. The terror let up for a minute and a half, or whatever the length of that song is. Im In Love With My Car was next and it was kind of confusing. Like “can you really be in love with a car?” I had no idea.
Then, You’re My Best Friend came on. Great big drums. A beautiful melody and a happy concept. I had friends. I think John Norris was already my best friend. He lived a few blocks away. I knew which direction his house was in. I thought about him and started to come out of my daze.
By the time I flipped the record and Bohemian Rhapsody came on I had been through an incredible range of completely intense emotions. Then, “Is this the real life?…”
I was right back to mental lock down. I was literally completely terrified. I “knew” that if I thought about the meaning of the words I was hearing, I would probably die.
My dad was upstairs cooking dinner.
In a state of complete terror I shouted up the stairs. “Dad, what happens when you die?”
I heard him stop cooking.
He came to the top of the stairs. He said “I’m sorry. What was that?”
I asked again. “What happens when you die?”
“Nobody ever died and lived to tell about it” was his whimsical answer.
He plugged the dam with that one.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
for a while.
A Night at The Opera indeed