This is something vaguely sinister about this song. It makes sense, on one level, why Charles Manson would take the title as his definition of a coming war. Beatles music, until then, had never been this deliberately ugly. In this setting, I've adopted a simple acoustic rendering, which softens the blow. Still, the words are fairly threatening.
When I get to the bottom I
go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
'Till I get to the bottom and I see you again.
Do, don't you want me to love you?
I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you
Tell me, tell me, tell me,
come on, tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Helter skelter, helter skelter
Helter skelter.
Will you, won't you want me to make you?
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Helter skelter, helter skelter
When I get to the bottom
I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again.
Well do you, don't you want me to love you?
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Helter skelter, helter skelter
Helter skelter.
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