Tag Archives: lonely

Let’s not talk about lonely nights…

Let's not talk about girls...

I think of this as kind of a campfire song.

This is my way of tying it into the First Day of Summer. Which is today.

Anyhow, I used to camp a lot in the mountains of California — in the coastal ranges and in the Sierra. And I always did the campfire thing. When you’re camping the way I used to camp, the fire defines all your time after the sun goes down. You cook over it. You eat around it. Maybe you drink around it. For sure, you talk. Maybe you play guitar or tell stories around it. And when a new log doesn’t go in, the dimming fire defines the arc of the evening back into darkness and the pillowy solitude of sleep.

Ah… I kind of dozed off there for a moment.

previous AYoS version December 28

Let’s Not Talk About Girls

let’s not talk about lonely nights
or waiting for her to come home
we all know what it’s like
don’t think that your’e all alone

let’s not talk about girls
let’s not talk about broken hearts
let’s not talk about love and
how love can tear you apart

let’s not talk about togetherness
hearth home or family
let’s not talk about how it all falls apart
for all the world to see

let’s not talk about girls
let’s not talk about broken hearts
let’s not talk about love and
how love can tear you apart

Michelle (It’s Easy to Be Sad)

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Michelle

One thing led to another.

I had to write a song for a girl named Michelle as part of the Barista Cycle project.

What’s the first thing you think about when you sing the name Michelle? Me, too.

Pretty soon I was writing about a girl working for the phone company (back in the days when there was pretty much just one big phone company, nicknamed Ma Bell). Having been a directory assistance operator as a temp for six weeks (long story, money plays a part in it), I’d heard the same thing from a few girls: “Here I am a single female surrounded by gorgeous men with steady jobs and great fashion sense, but…”

Once I was treading on the hallowed shadow of the Beatles, I found myself drawn to turning the song into one of those all the lonely people-type affairs, if anything for the license it might afford, allowing a cheap but hopefully satisfying excursion into lazy compassion.

So… we catch up with Michelle on a Saturday night, her charming, handsome through-the-week pals are otherwise engaged, even her cat is out for a night on the town…

Michelle (It’s Easy to Be Sad)

Michelle
Ma Bell was such a strange career choice
I know you did it to be around all them pretty boys
but I’m afraid you will never be annoyed
by smooth operators down in the break room
they’ve all got something else to do

Michelle
Ma bell was no place to meet boys
all the best they’re all just someone else’s toys
all of the strut and all of the noise
all the clothes and all the poise
they’ve all got something else to do
Michelle

It’s a saturday night michelle
It’s a saturday night michelle
It’s a saturday night michelle
And when Monday morning comes around
You know you’ll hear how it all went down
and you know how it’ll make you feel
the same old loneseome way
It’s easy to be sad
when all your boyfriends are gay

No Fool

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No Fool

I wrote this riding my motorcycle home one lunch hour in 1980. Compton to the southern tip of Long Beach in 12 minutes. It wasn’t something I did every day but, when you work in a big warehouse in Compton and you ride the bus 3 hours a day when it rains… sometimes it’s almost like magic to be able to see the ocean and make a cheese sandwich in your own kitchen on your lunch hour.

I pulled up in front of the shoebox-sized apartment I had at the time on the Alamitos Peninsula, threw the bike up on the center stand and ran upstairs and grabbed a guitar and my notebook. (That’s notebook, as in spiral-bound… this was 1980.)

Simple chords underlay the melody I’d had in my head… a modified 12 bar blues. There was another verse in between the current second and third, which I eventually dropped.

At the time, I was writing a lot of dark, cynical, and/or just plain depressing songs (imagine, if you will), many of which ended up performed by Machine Dog, the band some friends and I had formed. By contrast, this seemed almost cheerful, with its vaguely reggae feel and sappy, wait-by-the-telephone protagonist.

NO FOOL

Sitting all alone
by my telephone
Waited all day
but that’s okay
I could wait all night
and that would be all right
for a woman like you
I would wait all my life

Sometimes I pull myself together
and I go downtown
I’m all dressed up
and I wander around
and I feel like a fool
I can’t stop thinking of you
When you’re all alone
this city’s so cruel

I walk along the river
until the stars come out
I sit by myself alone in the dark
and I wonder
Oh yes I wonder
I’m just like a child
but I am no fool
I know it’s over

(C)1980, TK Major