stop sizing me up, giving me that funny look crooking your neck at me like i’m the spine of some dusty book open me up already i’m jumping off the page at you take me in nice and steady i’m hoping i open you up too can you read me, can you read me can you read the signs? can you read me, can you read me read between the lines? listen what i say, listen what i say, listen what i said i’m ready, i’m ready to be read if you pick me up babe, you’re afraid you won’t put me down, down, down, down articulated diction, this ain’t nonfiction friction it’s just the way we are bound open me up already i’m jumping off the page at you take me in nice and steady i’m hoping i open you up too
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*co-written with Veronica May (also recorded as Pretty Little Owl with The Lovebirds)
pretty little owl, won't you be my gal fly up in my tree, won't you sit with me we'll stay up all night under the moonlight rest under my wing, listen to me sing what will we see, where will we be who knows, who knows why should i care, when you're sitting there i'm happy the who is you, happy the who is you wiggle down your branch, can i have this dance look in your big eyes, gosh you look so nice spin my head around, make my owl heart pound make my owl legs weak, kiss me on my owl beak put my hands in your hair man i swear i heard you purr now i see foolishly you don’t care whose hands they were all those times your unkindness made me feel less than less washed a way with one whisper of your sleepy breath on my neck i’ll put whatever this is out of its sad little misery i’ll throw a new coat of paint over whatever this ain’t i’ll put to rest any hopes for the best, given our sad little history stop beating this horse, cause it’s dead and divorced and get on with my life for a change i was sharp, pushed too far you were flat, holding back out of time, out of key what a waste of a melody it’s the end now and i’ll grieve but i prefer this to another reprieve *co-written with Haley White every thought was a play that you starred in i can’t keep from clapping, i’m begging your pardon but your radiating underneath that spotlight this audience seat feels like a cage it’s all i can do to keep from jumping onstage because of the way that you look tonight i’m yelling encore i stand in ovation for you wish i could do more wish there was more i could do give me your script, i will write myself in you can be the new hero to my heroine forget the dialogue, let’s get to the curtain call we can hide in the wings where nobody’s watching i know that your lips can do a lot more than talking come on baby let’s break down the fourth wall it’s intermission, i’m sitting here wishing that they keep the lights on for the last scene there’s not much time before your last bow yet somehow i still keep hoping that when you look out i’m the face in the crowd that you see wish you could do more wish you could give more to me
*co-written with Veronica May
wakes up in the morning, waxes his mustache he's an evil-doer, revenge is his at last dastardly deceiving, wears a mask and cape memorized her shadow, so she can not escape victim and the villain, they will play their part one will take your pity, one will take your heart goes to bed each evening, hangs her head in shame she's a real do-gooder, especially good at blame properly pathetic, wears a veil of doubt memorized his methods, so he has no way out he tiptoes under her nose gets close enough to attack she lets him in, again and again she loves the knife in her back what you may not notice, what you may not see the victim and the villain, are both a part of me (it's me)
left the key out on the dresser
sat down and cried couldn’t make myself write the letter that said goodbye two toothbrushes in a coffee cup there’s just one now i’m sorry for the way i screwed things up everywhere you turn you see damage done now i just want to tell you one last thing you were my shoulder, my best friend wish i could have saved you from this pain wish my feet were colder back then empty bottles on the counter broken pictures in the hall i’m sorry that you’re angry, you should be you probably don’t want to see me at all big ol’ bed taking up too much space much too big for one now i’m sorry for that sad look on your face everywhere you turn you see damage done now just me and a bottle of wine sifting through my things gathered over ten years’ time box ‘em up or throw them out can’t decide, this is my life we’re talking about the memory tango keep the good ones, let the bad ones go just me in this tiny room i hope i can call it home soon and i’m relieved not to have chains on me nevertheless i will look back fondly Verse: C F G C Chorus: C F Dm G C F G C Bridge: C Dm G C sometimes you gotta let go of the good to make a little room for a little great sometimes you gotta do what you know you should let the hope just suffocate when the hope stops breathing maybe i’ll stop believing in a love that won’t come to pass when the hope starts dying maybe i’ll stop trying to turn fiction into fact i always seem to choose metaphor over reality but just this once i will refuse and say i loved you quite literally there was peace outside your window tonight but i drew the shade babe, and stayed so the hope stays alive and i try with all my might to get you to come outside with me and play can’t ascertain your explanation that we are just friends and nothing more i feel the same relief and frustration that one feels when slamming a door you make me happy and sad at the same time you make me feel good and bad at the same time you remind me of a deep blue sea so beautiful and scary you attract me like a battery pushing and pulling polarity Verse: E A B7 E Chorus: B7 A E i offered myself like some carnival thing you could win with your strength and make a bell ring, bell ring but i’ve been a trophy, they don’t stay shiny they’re dusty and rusty, they’re shelf life’s tiny i am delicate ribbons and colorful bows the more you unwrap me the more i expose i’m a gift given with purpose, heart, and thought i’m a gift whether you want me or not i offered myself like some heavyweight belt a reward for the number of punches you dealt but i’m not some hunk of junk raffled off at the door that winds up at a yard sale when you want me no more let me tell you being a little lesson i’ve learned about being a prize, i’m no longer concerned i’m much more than something someone wins or earns i’m a gift that keeps on giving, i don’t need nothing in return |
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