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Nonfiction Lyrics
I don't know my telephone number
But you kiss good and I'd like to see you tomorrow
I don't beg, I pay, I don't barter
And if we had a child, I'd like a son, not a daughter
No, she'd be just like you
And you know that will not do
I'm no builder, I'm no gardener
I sing some songs, have a friend who's a photographer
There ain't no other language I know how to speak
Some like their water shallow, I like mine deep so very deep
Tied to the bottom with noose around my feet
Clouds conspire
Above my head
I overheard them
Say I wish he was dead
Today the sun set
It burned my eyes
And in the next room
I hear someone cry
I like to dress up like the jury
To eat like a king, to poke fun at the clergy
To talk like dirt, to love you like tar
But never falling to fast with my north star
While you pull your hair out I buy the drinks at the bar
Clouds conspire
Above my head
I overheard them
Say I wish he was dead
Today the sun set
It burned my eyes
And in the next room
I hear someone cry
But you kiss good and I'd like to see you tomorrow
I don't beg, I pay, I don't barter
And if we had a child, I'd like a son, not a daughter
No, she'd be just like you
And you know that will not do
I sing some songs, have a friend who's a photographer
There ain't no other language I know how to speak
Some like their water shallow, I like mine deep so very deep
Tied to the bottom with noose around my feet
Above my head
I overheard them
Say I wish he was dead
Today the sun set
It burned my eyes
And in the next room
I hear someone cry
To eat like a king, to poke fun at the clergy
To talk like dirt, to love you like tar
But never falling to fast with my north star
While you pull your hair out I buy the drinks at the bar
Above my head
I overheard them
Say I wish he was dead
Today the sun set
It burned my eyes
And in the next room
I hear someone cry
Song Info
Submitted by
spliphstar On Jan 04, 2002
More The Black Crowes
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Thorn in My Pride
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Remedy
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Any idea what's the meaning behind this one?
It seems to be about life of a stereotype rock musician. He has an affair with a prostitue(I don't beg, I pay, I don't barter). He also has his own problems(maybe drugs) that are killing him(Clouds conspire/Above my head/I overheard them/Say I wish he was dead). The guy is an independent type, with no authorities and a will to live a full life. Did Chris write this about himself or some of his friends?
If the song were anything less than autobiographical, I cannot imagine they would have titled it "Nonfiction." For a band that is as openly honest as the Black Crowes, this song must be about as real as it gets.