Daily Archives: October 6, 2005

His or Mine

  Continuing right along in the slow boil, passive aggressive vein… This one goes back to August 1990.

There’s not a lot of meat on this song’s bones but it always seemed to go over pretty well in my shows. Maybe it was just from getting through some of the tongue-twisting lyrics — when I did.

 

His or Mine

how come you love me
how come you hate me
how come you just won’t leave me a alone
did you ever have the notion
you ain’t gotta monopoply on emotion
honey can’t you tell my pain is real

honey come here put your hand on my heart
there’s a world of feelings trapped inside
look in my eyes
and tell me once and for all
honey make your mind up
are you his or mine

how come you love me
how come you hate me
how come I can’t tell them apart
where was your conscience
when your mind told my body
to make sure that your soul
had my heart

honey come here put your hand on my heart
there’s a world of feelings trapped inside
look in my eyes
and tell me once and for all
honey make your mind up
are you his or mine

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When You Look Through Me

When You Look Through Me

Not sure, really, why the lyrics of this 1994 tune came to me.

I wasn’t in a relationship at the time and I wasn’t thinking of any specific relationship from the past. Still, the situation talked to me. In a sullen, passive-aggressive way, of course.

Though it comes off here as a kind of mutant bossa, I initially conceived of the music as a European tango. I’m not a big fan of European tango, with its cliche rhythm and the cartoonish dance styles associated with it, but I thought that very baggage suited the style to the lyrics.

(I go on at length, because I am a big fan of the modern Argentine tango of Astor Piazzolla. I saw him in performance in 1987 at UCLA, and it was an amazingly deep musical evening. No cliches in Piazzola’s tango.)

 

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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