| Rickie Lee Jones – On Saturday Afternoons In 1963 Lyrics | 2 months ago |
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I play this song every night when I brush my dog before he goes to sleep. It's part of our ritual. And one day...when he is gone...I will play it and remember him. "hold on to your special friend..." I rescued him but the truth is, he rescued me. |
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| Rufus Wainwright – Poses Lyrics | 2 years ago |
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You'd start on a Friday night aroung 8pm. Your friends might come by your place and stand in front of the bathroom mirror with you getting ready. Maybe you boys would be laughing already, excited for 11pm to get here as quick as possible. (You never show up at the gay bar before 11, things don't get going until then.) You'd already be drinking your first cocktail, your friend mixed it for you on the way in. He shows you the new jacket he bought at Macy's. You tell him how 'fabulous' it makes his arms and chest look and laugh and drink a bit more. You go back to the mirror and get out the eyeliner and put a little in your eyebrows and just enough on the lashes to make your eyes pop but not look like you are wearing makeup. You might comb some in your scruff if you had it to get the beard going a bit, too. It's 10:30 now and time to leave for the club. By now a few more friends have stopped by and you've all compared notes on what you are wearing and you're new black leather jacket. You say "it's not leather -- it's deerskin and it cost a fortune". You've got some RayBans with you that you will keep in the front jacket pocket. You're wearing those Versace Couture red jeans and the matching Versace shiny black laceups with the Mad Max looking rivets on the sides. You all pile in the car and head over to the bar. The walls are already covered with tabloid men posing, standing in the various poses each does, like models waiting for the photo shoot. You take your place along the wall and lose the smile. You drop your head slightly and flash a grin at the guy across the way, against the other wall, and nod a quick 'hello" while you throw that sexy smirk. He laughs, you laugh. It's all about the poses... Time passes by. You realize you are no longer 25, maybe you're 35 or 40 and you are no longer posing -- you are waking up in one too many trick apartments and you find yourself trying to hail a cab in the morning wearing dark sunglasses and flip flops on Fifth Avenue -- it's a metaphor about one too many morning afters in the never end line of tricks we all had back in the 1990's. You go from riches to ruin in the gay world and sometimes drugs bring you up and then take you down or maybe the alcohol was just one too many. You end up alone walking home 6am in the morning hating yourself, not really -- hating that you are walking home 6am in the morning trying to recreate something you had 5 or 10 years ago when you were young, and pretty and everyone was posing. All those poses...those beautiful poses. |
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