Real Songs #1

Aren't love songs nice eh ?

A sugar-coated view of life, an unrealistic sugar-coated view of life, totally unrealistic, in fact unfairly unrealistic.

In order to try and redress the balance so that young people don't think that love and marriage are always like Lionel Richie tries to sing it, here's the first in a series of REAL love songs, this is the way that Kenny Rogers wanted to sing it but his agent made him do the sugar-coated version instead...

She Believes in Me
Kenny Rogers
While she lays sleeping, I stay out late at night and play my songs
And sometimes all the nights can be so long
And it’s good when I finally make it home, all alone
While she lays dreaming, I try to get undressed without the light
And quietly she says "Where the bloody hell do you think you've been then, out 'till this time of bloody night, and don't go giving me that "playing my songs" shite, you're a lying bugger you are, my mother said she never trusted you and I bloody know why now you fuckin gigalo bastard you"
And I come to her and say "It was alright" and I hold her tight - and she takes a swing at me with the bedside lamp and catches me on the top of the head with the hot light bulb which shatters into the bed and opens an angry gash on the top of my head which bleeds like a butchered pig all over the eiderdown.

And she believes in me, sort of, I'll never know just what she sees in me
I told her someday if she was my girl I could change her world with my little song
I was wrong, in fact I can't sing a note in tune to save my life, I mime to backing tapes at all my gigs and my guitar has no strings but the audience at the working mens clubs are usually too pissed to notice
But she has no faith in me, and so I go on trying faithlessly because I've having it away with a blond I met in Cleckheaton Miners Welfare one night
And who knows maybe on some special night, if my song is right I will find a way, find a way.

While she lays waiting for a second swipe, I stumble to the kitchen for a bite
And I see my old guitar in the night just waiting for me like a secret friend, and theres no end
While she lays bitching again I fumble with a melody or two
Then I'm torn between the things that I should do but the bedside cabinet comes flying down the stairs and I take some spare blankets from the airing cupboard and go spend the night in the car again.
While she waits, while she waits, for me, so she can have another go at taking my head off with a blunt instrument