I had this strange compulsion last night to remember the lyrics to one of my favorite Harry Chapin songs from high school. Of course, the lyrics were buried at the bottom of my guitar case, which I hadn't opened in many years, and so of course I had to remove the guitar from the case, and so of course I had to tune it up and play it. Funny how your fingers just remember how to do things they haven't done in so long.
But anyway, it's a song about an old guy who annoys everyone around him by singing nonsense that no one really cares about. Not entirely unlike what I'm doing currently :-)
He said, "I gave her the music son, she gave me the words. Together we'd write the kind of songs the angels must have heard. Of course we'd fight like cats and dogs, but life ain't no rosebud dream. Still whatever we'd do everybody knew we truly were a team. I can't remember now if I done her wrong or if she done wrong to me, but all I know that when I let her go that it did not set me free."
That's when I said, "You sound like what's-his-name."
He said, "That's who I am. But you can't wrap a name around you boy, 'cause it really don't mean a damn. You see, a song don't have much meaning when it don't have nothing to say. What she could do was magic son, all I could do was play."
He started singing again. That's when I drifted off; maybe I dreamed what I heard 'bout this stranger with his melody who'd gone and lost the words.
Take that as a cautionary tale, if you will. Happy Valentines Day everyone.
