Tag Archives: cheating

19 Days

19 Days

 

This is not a murder ballad.

It’s a song about a long-haul trucker coming to the realization that his marriage is over. He thinks about it when he drives. He thinks about it when he lies awake in the sleeper in the back of the cab. And he prays about it in a little church on the way home. Simple, hunh?

That’s what I thought.

But I had to stop performing it because people kept coming up afterwards and saying, “Man that’s dark. It’s so seething and brink-of-violence. So, how does he kill her?”

And… as I read the lyrics now, they may be vague but, yeah, depending on how you read them, they could also be a bit ominous. But, really, what I had in mind was a guy simply breaking out of that thrall of indecision… just before you finally give up on someone you were positive would change your world. Not that, you know, I was ever such a sap. But people have been…

Ever think of all the great songs that started with the phrase “wake up”?

Yeah… well, I just checked, and, as of today, four of the songs so far (out of 71 songs since September 22) from A Year of Songs have the words “wake up” in the first 3 words of the song — and one more has “woke up.”

Don’t ask me why. If I had to guess, I’d say I was subconsciously on a quest to come up with a line with the classic elegance of “Woke up this morning / got myself a beer” (Jim Morrison) — which, I’ve always felt, pretty much sez it all.

19 Days

Wake up pretty baby tell me what the
hell is going on … I been
on the road for 19 days
and you act like I ain’t been gone

I been thinkin’ ’bout the days
when we thought our love was true
[but] I been thinking my forever
might be better off without you

Driving 16 hours a day
gives you lots of time to think
I been thinking bout a lot of things
that could drive ya to the brink

I been thinkin’ ’bout the days…

the truck stop sign is flashing
through the window of the cab
I wake up sweating
from that same old dream I have

I been dreamin’ ’bout the days…

the little church was quiet
on a Tuesday afternoon
I sat and thought about us
until I knew what I had to do

(C)1998, TK Major

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What Promises Mean Today

I know what promises mean today.

Now this is an oldie. I believe it was written in 1974.

I was in love at the time (we only kissed, I swear) with this ‘third generation witch’ from Iceland. I don’t know if she had preternormal powers — but I will say that she had the most electric vibes of anyone I think I’ve ever been around. Kissing her was like what I imagine it must be like to grab a Van de Graf generator… you almost expected to see little lightning flashes snaking across your intertwined bodies.

Anyhow, she was a singer and guitar player with a lovely voice and a nice finger picking style and I was a woefully undisciplined beginning musician desperate to escape the “poetry scene.” She and her roommate, another folksinger, were the first people to compliment me on my songwriting in a believable way. (My old friends were just amazed that I finally sort of learned to tune a guitar… it was a long time coming.)

The first song they really warmed up to, In the Course of Events, is yet to come in the AYoS lineup (not that there’s any rhyme, reason, or more than a 2 minute plan in the AYoS process) but I wrote this one soon after and, while they were a bit less enthusiastic about Promises, they felt it built on what I’d accomplished with Course of Events.

Anyhow…

One more thing, we’re going to try something new and put the chords up along with the lyrics. (Actually, it’s the lazy way out, since they were already there.) I’d like to encourage anyone so inclined to feel free to cover my songs, so maybe I should make it a little easier. That said… when I do my songs, I seldom get the chords the same way twice… so they should more properly be considered a general guide rather than a detailed, accurate roadmap.

I Know What Promises Mean Today

G D C C
I know what promises mean today
G F C C
I don’t care I believe in you anyway
D F
Don’t care what anyone says
C Em
I’ll believe in you unitil I’m dead
G
At the rate things are going
F C
That cuold be any day
G F C
I don’t care I believe in you anyway

You say you’re my lover
my sister my brother my friend
I’m surprised you don’t claim be
my mother my father
and the priest they said they’ll send
at the end

Am Em
And I still don’t care what anyone says
Am Em
I’ll be loving you ’til Im put in my grave
G F
but at the rate things are going
C C
that could be any day
G F C C
I don’t care I believe in you, anyway

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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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