I'll Follow My Secret Heart

This was written by Noel Coward and covered by Sting on Twentieth Century Blues: The Songs of Noel Coward.

If I was a love goddess, I'd say I hope he find it. After all, we would have less war in the world if we had more love. Let's pretend I am and I will ... right this very second ... shower the planet with wonderful, glorious, exquisite love. There! I did it! Not everyone would like that. Like I care. Obviously someone has been freely spewing negativity and no one has gotten down on them plus love is love. Don't want it--don't take it. You know what the problem is? Love is just not thrilling enough for some people so I'll add--what?--a little .... A little what? It's best not to dilvulge family receipes that have been passed down for eons ....

“Don't be afraid I'll betray you”

You know, I could worry about betrayal. Could? Yes.
Do? Okay, fine. But you handle it so well. You are such a warrior—and so very difficult to combat. Yeah, right …. No, truly you are. Facing betrayal, you simply grab it by the neck and scream—go ahead! Destroy me. Why do you care? You don’t. You’re bigger than me—just go ahead and do it, asshole. How does anything handle that from someone like you? Just fine if you ask me.
Not so fine. Now look at life. Betrayal is part of the life game. I shudder to think of lesser anythings tangling with the likes of you. That’s another thing—you spew so much hogwash! I am nothing to tangle with! You got that right. You know what I mean! I do—you don’t. You may not win every fight—others may walk all over you as if you are cute little cobblestones but when push comes to shove, you redefine relentless and no matter where you’ve been tossed, you have the luck of the Irish—and always land feet first, my secret heart. …… Stop pretending you can’t hear me. Huh?

Chopped red meats Still beat and twitch on the floor Of the museum of modern heart Where art and terror commingle It’s real theatre

After three days, I must tell you this I still can’t erase that scene in October X standing there with his poems in his fist His blood and belly full of booze Staring us down The gentle audience …

His distain And his hurting—so hard Behind that lovely face As I think of it now My heart still aches I tried to get him out of my head Nowadays everything happens at once We’re in agreement about that In fact we’re both part of the same big that So have a heart It won’t hurt you

Tom Clark—John’s Heart [paraphrased]