4/19/01: My Song
Lately I’ve been singing this song to myself before I go to bed. Rather, before I go to sleep. I sit in bed with Daphne and play a few chord changes – I don’t know any of the names of these chords or I’d tell you. There aren’t any set words, either, or a really strong, set melody, just themes for both. It’s an enormous relief to say this shit out loud, or rather, sing it. I’m starting to understand Tori Amos better in the process too. You know, her shit like “Beene lost the sunset but it’s okay, and girls who eat pizza but never gain weight”.
Anyway, the song ends up going something like this. After singing it for about two weeks it’s starting to solidify a bit. Oddly, I think it's my best, even though it’s not really solid and the rhymes are just accidents. It’s not funny like some of my other songs. It makes more sense when you hear it with the chord change patterns, but I’m reluctant to record it because I think it’ll just be another whiney chickwithguitar song and the world doesn’t need it. But I like it, even if it’s all been said before. I don’t know, we’ll see.
It seems to have named itself “Chord Change,” and who am I to argue with it?
I’m back again… where I began my day, on my bed with the sheets with stars that glow. It seems a shame that there’s no one else to see them. It seems a shame when something shines alone.
Chorus: There’s got to be a way around the chord change that pulls you round from day to night to day. It seems to catch you in its circle, but I think there’s another way.
I’m pretty sure… that he’s gone to California, and he took my stuff with him. Isn’t it always the nice ones who screw you over in the end? Of course, it’s always the mean ones who screw you right off the bat. I think there’s a sort of beautiful poetry to that.
Chorus: I guess that I could just be single for a while, and not go from man to man to man. But then of course you know that I’ll meet someone, and I’ll fuck him, just because I can.
I think it’s time… I think it’s time for a change now. I could quit my job. I’d rather get hit by a bus than go in tomorrow. But no, I need to pay my rent. I need some place to keep all this stuff. This stuff keeps me in this place.
Chorus: So I’ll content myself with café mochas, and with some concerts, and lots of beer. And I can say that I am really living, because I’m really living here.