Paisley Park, the estate and production studio of the late Prince, recently had an opening for an archives supervisor. When I thought about the work environment, I imagined everyone communicating solely through Prince’s words. The result is this handy list of Prince lyrics for Paisley Park employees.
Turning in a report on a Monday morning:
“I was dreaming when I wrote this. Forgive me if it goes astray.”
Late for work the third day in a row:
“I never meant to cause you any sorrow. I never meant to cause you any pain.”
When you can’t decide if you should take the stairs or …
“Are we gonna let the elevator bring us down?”
Drunk at the company holiday party:
“We’re all excited, but we don’t know why. Maybe it’s ‘cause we’re all gonna die.”
Annual performance evaluation self-assessment:
“I’m not a human, I am a dove. I’m your conscience, I am love. All I really need is to know that you believe.”
When Brad from accounting forgets to pick you up on his carpool day:
“How can you just leave me standing, alone in a world that’s so cold?”
Hitting on Brad during the company retreat:
“I want to be your fantasy. Maybe you could be mine? You just leave it all up to me, and we could have a good time.”
Brad is into it:
“Your face is jammin’, your body’s heck a-slammin’.”
Seriously into it:
“Now move your big ass ‘round this way so I can work on that zipper, baby. Tonight you’re a star, and I’m the Big Dipper.”
OK, Brad is getting a little freaky deaky:
“Something about a little box with a mirror and a tongue inside.”
When Brad cooks breakfast the next day:
“Starfish and coffee, maple syrup and jam, butterscotch clouds, a tangerine, and a side order of ham.”
Monday morning work email from Brad:
“I can’t disguise the pounding of my heart, it beats so strong. It’s in your eyes, what can I say? They turn me on. I don’t care where we go, I don’t care what we do, I don’t care, pretty baby. Just take me with you.”
Ugh, another email?
“Could you be the most beautiful girl in the world? It’s plain to see you’re the reason that God made a girl.”
Goddamn it, Brad:
“I’ll give you head ’til you’re burning, head ’til you get enough, head ’til your love is red, head love ’til you’re dead.”
Your breakup note to Brad:
“I guess I should have known by the way you parked your car sideways that it wouldn’t last.”
Before the awkward spring potluck:
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called lunch.”