Even Reverse Cowgirls Get The Blues

It’s hot as hell down in Sin City where Frank Miller calls the tunes. In a rundown dive on the sleazy side of town a man sits on a stool at a battered piano. He’s unshaven and blinded milky-white in one eye. The other is bloodshot from all the years of cheap whisky.

He plays the keys like he’s a junkie romantic in a fever dream. Just don’t mention the name Tom Waits to him, whatever you do.

He used to be good-looking but that was years ago and now he resembles a tattooed candle that’s been left in the sun too long.

He has a voice like a bag of nails and he insists that people said that about him before they’d ever even heard of goddam Tom Waits. It’s wrecked and barely there, but no-one’s listening so it doesn’t much matter.

He sings a song he wrote decades before for the one that got away; he knew her before she was a somebody, before she was the somebody. And he knew her again when she wasn’t and came back as an empty shell. Before he sings the song he tells the story behind it that no one believes is true.

But it is true, he insists, every word; even the lies.

I burned for an old flame yesterday
I was drunk but she was pretty all the same
She caught me at the bar
Said ‘I been wondering how you are’
I caught fire

She said I’d like it down where she lives;
That it’s not quite rock bottom
But it is
Said she had a heart of gold
I said I’m buying; she sold
And I whispered

‘Chain me to your radiator
I want you on your worst behaviour
Girl I don’t believe in saviours
But I’ll make an exception for you’

‘You know it’s true’

Even cowgirls get the blues
Cowgirls get the blues
And when cowgirls get the blues
They seek comfort in the arms of a bull.

In the heat of my desire she melts
I got scratches I got bruises I got welts
Blood drawn from my wrist
Reminds me of the bliss
Of our tryst

I chained her to my radiator
I gave her all my worst behaviour
She said ‘boy I don’t believe in saviours
But I’ll make an exception for you’

‘you know it’s true’

Even cowgirls get the blues
Cowgirls get the blues
And when cowgirls get the blues
They seek comfort in the arms of a bull.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s