BobbyD4U's blog: "My lyrics"

I got the idea for this song after coming home from an extended hospital stay to learn that, not only had my love at the time decided to break up with me, but to also move someone new into the house...while I slept on the sofa...

STRANGER IN THE HOUSE (B. Davis)

This might not have been one of the great romances/But I know I miss the sparkle in your eyes/Now they're looking down in worn-out, bitter glances/At the ghost of the man who walks round in my disguise.

I get the feeling that I don't belong here/There's no welcome in the window anyway/And I look down for a number on my keychain/Because this feels more like a motel every day.

CHORUS: There's a stranger in the house, no one has seen his face/And everybody swears he's taking my place/There's a stranger in the house nobody ever sees/But everyone's saying he looks like me.

Now you say that you have no expectations/But I also know you miss those carefree days/And with all the angry words that pass between us/You still don't seem to get it when I say:

CHORUS.

The idea for this song came from a combination of whiskey and bitterness (isn't it amazing how some of the best songs were written by people feeling their worst?)...

LIP SERVICE

Oh, well, I feel so loose tonight, I might fall to pieces/So get prepared to sweep me out the door/And I could be horizontal by the time the music ceases/So I better get familiar with the floor.

I keep going back to the same old things I always do--hey there, Floorboards, it's been awhile; how are you?

CHORUS: Lip service--that's all you're gonna get from me/How could you believe I'd take you seriously?/With your cheap rewards, your blackmail and your comical rage/Just remember you'll only be the star as long as you're on your stage.

All the signposts on this road point the same way/I don't bother to look, I just stare at my shoes/I'll put the light out now 'cuz there's nothing more to see/And it's all been lost, so now there's nothing more to lose.

But you could have said you loved me very painlessly--I'd have done the same for you before you said to me:

CHORUS.

The idea for this song came to me (as a lot of them do) in the midst of an ugly breakup. The night I wrote these lyrics, I'd been listening to a radio station out of Philly ("Oldies 98 FM") and thought, 'It would be neat to write a breakup tune with a doo-wop beat'. Imagine someone like Buddy Holly singing this...

ALL THE RAGE (B. Davis)

You have these impulses to speak your mind/I'll loan you my microscope, then maybe you can find it/Is it in that awful place that's just behind your face/Where you keep my picture safe, despite the fact that you had me replaced?

CHORUS: Say goodbye--oh, baby, can't you act your age?/You know I would always give it to you straight/Although I'll never be as unhappy as you want me to be/Still, there's all the rage.

I'd probably play along if left to my own devices, but spare me the drone of your advice/Open a bottle and we'll confess our sins away/Although the penance might be more than you can take/I've heard this all before, but you say it anyway.

CHORUS.

Alone in your shroud of manufactured grief/You murder time and truth; love, laughter and belief/So don't try and touch my heart--it's darker than you think/And don't try and read my mind--for you it's filled with disappearing ink.

CHORUS.

Over the last few years, I've written a good number of lyrics which I have put to music, but haven't had musicians to record them. I'm posting some here to get some opinions and input...

INDOOR FIREWORKS (B. Davis)

We play these parlor games, we play in make-believe/When we get to the part where I say that I'm gonna leave/Everybody loves a happy ending, but we don't even try/We go straight past pretending to the part where everybody starts to cry.

CHORUS: Indoor fireworks can still burn your fingers/Indoor fireworks we swore were safe and harmless/They might not be spectacular or burn up in the sky/But they can dazzle or delight--or bring a tear--when the smoke gets in your eyes.

You were the spice of life, the gin to my vermouth/And though the sparks would fly, I thought our love was fire-proof/Sometimes we'd fight in public, darling, with very little cause/But other kinds of sparks would fly when we got alone behind closed doors.

CHORUS.

It's time to tell the truth, these things need to be faced/My fuse is running down and all that fire is going to waste/But don't think for a moment, dear, that we'll ever be through/I'll build a bonfire of my dreams and burn a broken effigy of me and you.

CHORUS.