Let me tell you something that you probably already know - I am no good for you.
Now, I'm not trying to get your sympathy. I'm not playing some passive game, just hoping you'll rush to my defense.
I do play games.
Just not those.
You'll learn all my games soon enough... if you want to.
If you like me as much as I like you.
If you need me as much as I need you.
If your breath tends to catch, so sweetly and so painfully, in your throat every time you see me walking down that hallway... well, then, you are going to figure me out.
Even if you don't wantto.
/ /
You've heard lots of stories about me, I'm sure.
And most of them are true. And most of them are not.
I used to have a boyfriend and he made me feel a little less alone.
I used to have friends, the kind that call you up and want to hit the beach and twirl their hair.
I used to make-up stories about my father, about how close we were - even though we weren't. I used to love my mother more than anything, before she cut my heart up and left me for dead.
I didn't kill a teacher. I didn't rob a bank. I didn't have a baby and then let some gay couple adopt it.
I did almost have a baby, that is true.
And every day I am thankful I didn't.
And every day I kind of wish that child was around.
You've probably heard that I sleep around, too.
That I have a line around the block, girls and boys who can attest to my drunken charm.
Or that I have bitter lovers lurking the shadows of those clubs, sharp nails and even sharper tongues.
You've probably heard the most about this topic, my name on locker doors and on bathroom walls.
I hope you don't believe all of them.
I hope you see more in me than they do. More than I do, too.
I hope you stick around long enough to let me write a few new stories with you.
/ /
I've tried to imagine a song for you, but I don't like my pens and I don't like the paper laying useless in my lap. I've tried to pull out chords, strumming and such, but nothing sounds like my feelings for you.
I could create a mix cd.
Or, better yet, a mix-tape.
I could choose the songs and jot the titles down. I could leave it on your desk in the morning.
I could let a thousand other voices say what I just cannot.
But here I am, two in the morning, outside of your dark window.
Here I am, guitar strapped to my back, tossing rocks and hoping you wake up before your parents do.
Before your mother, strict and steady, finds me and chases me away.
Before your father, kind and caring, shakes his head at me in dismay.
Before I lose my nerve. Before I remember what a bad idea this is.
/ /
You, pretty as a picture, but the moonlight does not illuminate your face fully.
I just catch whispers of your eyes, my head tilted back in order to find them.
And you ask me what I am doing out here, feet getting damp from grass that has not been mowed.
And I tell you in a million unspoken ways.
You won't know this song, but I know you'll like it.
You'll like it because I am singing it for you.
And I think that's what you've been waiting for.
You've been waiting for your 'bad' girl to get a clue and make the first damn move.
And I could tell you until the end of time that I am no good for you.
I'm a mess. I'm a reformed player and a lazy addict. I'm that girl that can read the signs and still keeps on that destructive path.
I'm not the one you can ever bring home, you know?
But I think you know.
I think you've know all along.
/ /
"You're crazy... you know that?"
"Yep. Part of my charm."
"Uh huh... well, be glad that I don't mind being dragged out of bed in the middle of the morning. Otherwise, I'd be coming down there to hit you."
"As long as its not the face, that's my money-maker."
You laugh. I do, too.
You blow me a kiss and I capture it.
You shut the window and turn out the light.
And to the trees, to the sky, to you in your room and in your bed... I say I love you.
/ /
"I really do love you, Ashley Davies. I really, really do."
/ /
Buckets of rain
Buckets of tears
Got all them buckets comin' out of my ears
Buckets of moonbeams in my hand
I got all the love, honey baby
You can stand
I been meek
And hard like an oak
I seen pretty people disappear like smoke
Friends will arrive, friends will disappear
If you want me, honey baby
I'll be here
Like your smile
And your fingertips
Like the way that you move your lips
I like the cool way you look at me
Everything about you is bringing me
Misery
Little red wagon
Little red bike
I ain't no monkey but I know what I like
I like the way you love me strong and slow
I'm takin' you with me, honey baby
When I go
Life is sad
Life is a bust
All ya can do is do what you must
You do what you must do and ya do it well
I'll do it for you, honey baby
Can't you tell?
(Neko Case version, Live From Austin, TX)
/ /
END