Writing about music is like dancing about architecture - it's really a stupid thing to want to do.
~ Elvis Costello
Can a mere song change a people's minds? I doubt that it is so. But a song can infiltrate your heart and the heart may change your mind.
The battle with the bottle is nothing so novel.
It was a real party of swells.
Bad lovers face to face in the morning Shy apologies and polite regrets Slow dances that left no warning of Outraged glances and indiscreet yawning Good manners and bad breath get you nowhere Even presidents have newspaper lovers Ministers go crawling under covers She's no angel He's no saint They're all covered up with white washed grease paint And you say...Chorus: The teacher never told you anything but white lies But you never see the lies And you believe Oh you know you have been captured You feel so civilized And you look so pretty in your new lace sleevesThe salty lips of the socialite sisters With their continental fingers that have never seen working blisters Oh I know they've got their problems I wish I was one of them They say daddy's coming home soon With his sergeant stripes and his Empire mug and spoonNo more fast buck And when are they gonna learn their lesson When are they gonna stop all of these victory processions And you say...
Life is so strangeI don't know whyBut somebody, somebody has to cry.
She's no angel.He's no saint.
He's such a dragHe's not insaneIt's just that everybodyHas to feel his pain.
You think you're alone until you realize you're in it.Now fear is here to stay, love is here for a visit.
I could say it was the nights when I was lonelyand you were the only one who'd talk.I could tell you that I like your sensitivity,when you know it's the way that you walk.
It's a breath you took too late.It's a death that's worse than fate.
No use wishing now for any other sin.
Oh, I know that she's disgusted,cause she's feeling so abused.She gets tired of the lust,but it's so hard to refuse.
So you take her to the pictures,trying to become a fixture.Inch by inch trying to reach her,all the way through the second feature.Worrying about your physical fitness,tell me how you got this sickness?
I don't wanna be a lover,I just wanna be your victim.
But it's easier to say 'I love you',than 'Yours, sincerely' I suppose.
There's a girl in this dress,there's always a girl in distress.
Smokey Robinson writes the heartfelt songs, whereas it was my job to write the songs about weakness and failure in love.
We're all just animals. That's all we are, and everything else is just an elaborate justification of our instincts. That's where music comes from. And romantic poetry. And bad novels.
Happiness isn't a fortune in a cookie. It's deeper, wider, funnier, and more transporting than that.
Women hear rhythm differently than men.
