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You could mess up my life in a poem
Have me divorced by the time of the chorus
There's no need to change any sentence
When you always decide where I go next
Many nights you would hide from the audience
When they were not in tune with your progress
In the end you're a fool like the journalist
Who turns what she's seen into business
You could use to be more like a hero
A darker shade of damage distortion
Wearing death like a cape or a costume
Cut your ties and leave town when you want to
Killing time 'til I pass through the chamber
Or the room you keep my replacement
so fed up, still you're starving on paper
You're no him, but he's you, only better
Leave me an exit to damage
I could use a ledge to jump off of
I wasn't lying when I said this was over
I have questions that lead to more questions
Running time that will cut off my fingers
You wrote about me on every new record
And I'll show up in a title of your song
I only hope somebody requests it
What's it like for you in Washington
I've only seen photos of Washington
I'll never know
Leave me Manhattan, I want the evergreens
Write me a song I can sing in my sleep
As sure as the rain that will fall where you stand
I want you and the skyline, these are my demands
What's it like for you in Washington
I've only seen photos of Washington
I'll never know, know
Have me divorced by the time of the chorus
There's no need to change any sentence
When you always decide where I go next
When they were not in tune with your progress
In the end you're a fool like the journalist
Who turns what she's seen into business
A darker shade of damage distortion
Wearing death like a cape or a costume
Cut your ties and leave town when you want to
Or the room you keep my replacement
so fed up, still you're starving on paper
You're no him, but he's you, only better
I could use a ledge to jump off of
I wasn't lying when I said this was over
I have questions that lead to more questions
You wrote about me on every new record
And I'll show up in a title of your song
I only hope somebody requests it
I've only seen photos of Washington
I'll never know
Write me a song I can sing in my sleep
As sure as the rain that will fall where you stand
I want you and the skyline, these are my demands
I've only seen photos of Washington
I'll never know, know
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Beautiful, amazing love song. It's from the point of view of a bitter, probably jilted ex-lover of a travelling musician -- whether that's Jurado himself isn't that important. But I love the turn. It gets increasingly more bitter ("You're no him, but he's you only better") until a sudden lull and a curious change of heart ("...What's it like, for you, in Washington?")
The subject isn't really over everthing ... he/she can still be pulled in by the romanticizing of the life, of the travel, the big wide world outside of Manhattan...
I see this being about a songwriter he met along the way. This songwriter is also a fan, but has a superficial quality. This person turns around to write songs about Damien not really knowing Damien's motivation (for writing songs).
I think it is a critique of a someone playing music for fame and glory instead of how I see Damien approach as being more for art's sake and personal expression.
The end he pays homage to Seattle. In contrast, Manhattan is a place where many aspiring songwriters go to "make it big." This contrast exemplifies the difference between Damien's approach to the business of music and the subjects and how that person longs for what Damien has.
My take.. Beautiful song.
In the end you're a fool like the journalist Who turns what you sing into business
should be
Who turns what she's seen into business