We were making up going through the motions
Because you're beautiful girl please count me out
We've both been this place before
I won't be your dog no more
And by the way, I want my kisses back
I always knew you'd be coming back to beg me
I rang your bell, you opened your door
Careful who you're kicking out cause if'n there is any doubt
You might just cast away what’s best for you
No matter what ain't gonna settle for less
Girl you're not alone in this mess
Wake up now!
See the light!
Your best bet is slipping by tonight
Girl you're not alone in this mess
I heard you got your shoes mugging Cinderella
You pointed up, sucker punched her down
Hey, no man should be called a dog unless of course his tale is long
Or in the case its his given name
The center of my world is where you're standing
Girl, I really wish you would sit still
All this movement’s making me dizzy
My hearts a pail
My crown is frail and I feel like I’m headed for the spill
Copyright © 1994/2020: albinosongs
The MUSICIANS
Albino Guimaraes Vocals, Bass & Acoustic Guitars
Joe Boyle Electric Guitars
Bill Holloman Horns, Keyboards & Vocals
Jon Peckman Drums
Sophie Guimaraes Vocals
Behind The Song...
You're Not Alone In This Mess
This song I wrote around the same time as “Lila” from this set of songs and “Farewell To Reason” from the Tangerine EP. I remember clearly sitting in the Hippodrome Building on 6th Avenue in NYC reading an article about American Indians and their view of given names such as “Sitting Bull” or “Dances with Wolves”. I tried several times to capture the feel of this song as it was in my head. I finally have in the recorded version on Gurleyville.
Upon release I pitched this song to Spotify to have it added to a playlist so someone might actually hear it.... they asked for a description of the song and this is what I told them...
“This song is a first person account of a highly charged, passionate, ill-fated relationship filled with good humor and bad feelings, doomed to burn out, not fade away. Ingredients.... one pound of jokes, two broken hearts, some sugar, a pinch of salt, world class horn player and time. Directions... Violently stir. Leave on shelf for 20 years. Record.”
Every story needs a story.