Tag Archives: passive-aggressive

I’ll keep it on the VCR and watch it over and over again…

... and I never went home

Passive aggressive.

I always thought that had a kind of cool sound, conjuring images of a leather jacketed hoodlum leaning against a lampost, the 24/7 tug of jaded, world-weary amusement pulling his thin lips into a tight grin.

But the guy in this song ain’t that kind of passive aggressive. He’s the real kind. In the backstory that’s evolved in my mind for this song since I wrote it in 1984, he’s drinking in the neighborhood dive, just like every night when he sees the paramedics in front of his house on the 11 o’clock news. When they haul his wife out under a sheet, followed by another body, this one with a familiar pair of worn cowboy boots he recognizes as his best friend’s, he mutters, “Damn junkies,” and keeps drinking.

Passive aggressive. I heard those words in anger a few times. I wish it could say it was a misdiagnosis.

But, like my late father, my ex-girlfriends just keep getting smarter every day.

 


[full version (c.1994) on Soundclick feat. Jeff Turmes, sax | requires Flash]
 

Someone Said Something

Someone said something
or I’d have never known
Someone said something
and I never went home

They found you In the arms of another man
the needle still in your vein
You finally transcended
Now you’re cheating on a higher plane

Someone said something . . .

What are a few bad habits
between old friends?
You were a junky and a trollop
but I loved you to the end

Someone said something . .

Policemen and photographers
and a local station’s mini-cam
I’ll keep it on the VCR
and watch it over and over again

Someone said something
or I’d have never known
Someone said something
and I never went home

(C)1984, TK Major

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Those people on the phone

Those people on the phone

 

 

 

 

 

I wonder what you see when you look thru me.
I feel like a ghost in my own home…

A Year of Songs April 18, 2006

Oct 5 Version
Jan 29 Version

When You Look Through Me

You ask me where I’ve been
I wonder what it matters
I wonder why you should care at all
I wonder what you see
when you look thru me
I feel like a ghost in my own home

Oh but weren’t the old days grand
our lives together like love letters in the sand
raise a glass to the past
but don’t look through
to a time when you loved me and I loved you

I go out walking
you stay home talking
those people on the phone know more about me than I do
I hear your laughter
I don’t hear what you say after
but I hear that I’m a joke in my home town

Oh but weren’t the old days grand
our lives together like love letters in the sand
raise a glass to the past
but don’t look through
to a time when you loved me and I loved you

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