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IF WAS WRONG, from the collection “Songs About Girls, Vol. I” by RJT
Hush up now, I can hardly hear the rain. For want of a nail, your words stutter in vain, and amble between us and these ghosts you entertain. You’ll never guess this riddle, and I will miss you but only a little, as I watch you burn like Nero with his fiddle, like I was wrong. You walked into the room, whistling like Joan of Arc, the weight of martydom you wear its mark. You ask to go home and I knock you out of the park. The point’s been missed between my glass jaw and your limp wrist, some lips will be fattened, some lips will be kissed, if I was wrong. I beg forgiveness for my limpness, between the peapod and the princess, you knew all the answers but you failed the quizzes. So who decides what memories we’ll save between the prenup and the grave? When you were ugly and when I was brave? When I was wrong? So now I know, though your crimes were high, my resistance is low. And maybe I would be able to let this all go, if I was wrong. And if you want your bird to really sing, you have to get vicious and tear off its wings. Then you’ll know the shame that clarity brings, like you were wrong.
Written by Ryan J. Tressel
RJT: Acoustic guitar, voice.
Recorded live August 2002.
