Remembering the Brink

About a month or two before I proposed to my fiance, I was in a panic. After all, if you've never asked anyone to marry you before, it essentially means that you've not gotten your dating history right until that moment. I was daunted by the fact that I had only a string of huge mistakes to guide me in my decision. I still, somehow, knew that I would ask, but before I did I wrote this song. I called it "Thirty" because I had written songs for Too Much Light called "Twenty Seven" and "Twenty-eight" ("Twenty-nine" was a monologue), all based on my age at the time, and decided I'd make this the third and final installment. For some reason, everyone liked it but it didn't get into the show. I thought maybe it was because Genevra was there and everyone felt weird about putting this song in while she was in the show. Although Genevra really understood what it meant and so liked the piece. I think it made her feel a bit better about my not having asked her yet. Here it is:

I have woken up dead in a bedroom of pink, and
Thought to myself "what am I doing sleeping here?"
And I’ve woken up coughing and wheezing
And asking myself “hey, why does this asthmatic smoke?”

And I’ve felt a warm body beside me and leaned with one arm
Over nakedness talking of politics ‘till I said at last
"Hey, do you have a last name?" and she looked at me blankly
And said...“why”?

And why am I driving at 2 am by some cute woman’s house
Back in 1990-something and a cold sickening feeling is
Tickling my stomach saying
Damn she’s got your balls buddy and that’s not so good.

And I’ve sat myself numb-legged, trying to be Buddha,
Living with some nice woman who was trying to be my wife
And I almost gave my life to a woman out of pity
And I’ve almost believed in false goddesses too

And a big old bunch of nothing can prepare you for marriage
While a big old bunch memories are telling you to run
And you might have it perfect, you might love your woman
But you sing in second person and write about your pain

And you blame expectations and search your compunction
But you only see ghosts and you’re picking some fights
And a minute goes by and you’re like “shit, I’m neurotic”
And your girlfriend’s like “yeah, baby, you and me both”

But you no longer wake up in bedrooms of pink
And you gave up the smoking cold turkey that day
And you’ll never be Buddha but it’s so nice to try
And you’ve only had your head up your ass for a like decade.

And life tends to twist itself pointy like an arrowhead
Made from this light, that flashes like lightning
and this time around you can let yourself walk in a
direction that optimists like to call living

And don’t think I won’t go and follow that arrowhead
Don’t think I won’t be a man--whatever that is--
And please see me love you in the midst of my breakdown
And please reply “yes” when I finally ask.


The song never got into the show. I thought about re-proposing it but by the time I was back in, I was engaged and feeling much better, so the song was irrelevent. I will record it at some point and put it in the audio portion of my website--which badly needs updating.

I have noticed that for years now, when I am able to write something down that is this neurotic, I have almost conqured it. The moment I have written it down, is usually the moment right before I begin to recover. But I don't think that the writing is a catharsis. Art does give us some release, to be sure, but it's overblown, I think mostly by people who don't often make art so when they do it's just a bigger deal. For the rest of us who work all the time, I think we can describe these things so well precisely because we're starting to get a handle on them. Anyway, I wanted to use this song for something because although it's irrelevent, I do still like it.