Drink to your Name

Take your key I'm on my way gimme a smile for the road
the sex was always awesome but the dinners were too cold

keep my number in your phone I'll put your face on a card
I'll drink fondly to your name with every shot at the bar



Drink to your body and your jacket and the way you take your chair
I loved the sweat drops and the candles and the tangles in your hair


Every time I made a joke you got a better line on me
Thought I had you figured out I did not know what we could be


Shot for the sugar in the morning and the poison late at night
and the shocking show of anger right when you're about to cry


Drink to the movies and our music and the racing games we played
and to secret stubborn strength hidden by icy outer shades



There was nowhere you could hide but always things I couldn't see
always finding parts of you that were fantastic mysteries


I love the way you hold your eyes and the way you do your hair
you're a bitch, you're a goddess, you're the reason I despair




The real reason I wrote this song is I was practicing my guitar and didn't feel like working on these chord forms things and started just messing around.  These lyrics are intended to be sung all in one breath, to some weird catchy song that I can't remember.  They are about the end of a fictional relationship that I never had, but which was yet based on a relationship I did have once, with a girl who I stayed up until 5 am with trading text messages that had an average of 10 minute round-trip latencies before falling asleep and getting up early this morning to go skiing in heavy, melting moguls that destroyed my quads.  I want to post these lyrics on facebook so that girls I am acquaintances ("facebook friends") with will read it and think I am one of those sensitive guys in romantic comedies.  Unfortunately, this girl would read them too, so, that's out.  Oh, but back to the...this stuff:

Its easy to look back and be all like, "yeah I should have done this."  Instead of what you actually did.  That works for some people.  Some people collect failures, like the rejection notices Stephen King used to hang on an old nail or something, and that works for them.  Maybe it makes the final success all the sweeter.

Another way you can look at it though, is what would have happened if you hadn't done anything. What if you had stayed home that night?  What if you had given up?  What if you hadn't taken the enormous risk?  Maybe everyone does have that one mistake they made where it really would have been better if they stayed home.  But all the others?  The alternative is to have had nothing all along.  So the next time I see the ghosts of my past in the in my doorway, here to remind me of what I'm missing out on, I'll remember that they are better than nothing.

If fact, the best of those memories were unplanned and unexpected.  Shots in the dark.  No amount of planning or analysis could recreate them.  I know because I've tried.