about
My good friend Steve Stout and I were offered a chance last week to write a song for the Civilians’s latest piece You Better Sit Down… - an investigative theatre work based on stories of divorce.
Steve and I are both children of divorce, though it rarely comes up in conversation (that’s usually the case, yeah?). We’ve worked together on music before, of course, as he’s directed New York Neo’s 12th Night, A Midummer Night’s Dream and As You Like It (among others) - but this process was very different. Steve interviewed his mother, taking down a stream of conscious monologue. He then played with some themes and sent me the text. I then took the words and, colored by my own experience, wept like a giant baby for a few hours while ironing out a melody and lyrics.
Tonight, Monday June 28th, my girlfriend (another child of divorce) and I will play the song live for a Civilians show. With all these similar yet different stories flying around the three of us, it got me thinking about what lyrics are supposed to do (I think - that’s a pretty grand statement). There are universal stories, sure - but it’s the details that take your breath away, break your heart. It’s the details - even if they’re alien from your own - that make something transcendental, singular among a group.
Certainly don’t think I’ve created anything transcendental here (especially in the mixing and mastering, eesh) - but I can’t think of a more therapeutic song or process I’ve had lately. Pleasure to work with good people who get you.
lyrics
We met at
The office retreat
You did not sweep me off my feet
But I never yawned
While you tutored me on
Differed income laws
Ain’t what you expect
Ain’t what you earn
The good Lord gives, for what it’s worth
You got me a job
On account of what you had taught
And we were in love
I didn’t want a ring
Just a dining room set
A yellow couch with birds on it
We want the things we want
Can’t count on what you choose
But I was a-counting on you, oh love
All I was, was counting on you
We had the weekends
I had Steve and Kathleen
And we moved out to New Jersey
I could account for no way
These things wouldn’t stay
You saw the world
Travelin all the time
When asked where you were
Your daughter would point to a plane in the sky
Then you asked me to stay up late to talk, but what about?
So serious now
Said you wanted out
It wasn’t on account of the stress
Or on account of lack of prayer
It was on account of the woman you’d met somewhere out there
I counted on rough times
On not knowing what to do
But I wasn’t counting on this from you
But I wasn’t counting on this from you
But then someone says something
And then words are retired
And everything suggested comes from someone we hired
And the shrinks suggest it’s normal
That there’s nothing you can do
But tell your son daddy doesn’t love me but he still loves you
And they remember more than I’d ever want them to
Then I’d ever want to
But what can you do?
My lawyer was good
I still send him flowers
The kids stayed with me on account of good courtly powers
And I know for a fact
You weren’t a-countin on that
And I can say with straight face
I can declare with no glee
She cheated on you just like you two cheated on me
The good Lord gives for what it’s worth
Things you could never ‘count for
And the years have made symbols
Of a story complex
I’m sure you recall things that I forget
And you spoke to the kids
And you apologized to me
And became something of the man I’d hoped you’d be
Just a bit too late for Steve, Kathleen and me
But still the man I’d hoped someday you’d be
I account for the years
For memories fading fast
But I wasn’t counting on that
Numbers are simple
Just add, divide, reduce
But I was a-countin on you
credits
from
Singles 2010,
released December 31, 2010
Music and Lyrics by Mattroi
Based on an Interview Conducted by Steve Stout
license
all rights reserved
