Love In The Heights

now that you find yourself losing your mind
are you here again
finding that all you once thought was real
is gone and changing
now that you've made yourself love me
do you think i can change it in a day
how can i place you above me
am i lying to you when i say
that i believe in you
coming to you at night
I see my questions I feel my doubts
hoping that maybe in a year or two
we could laugh and let it all out
now that you've made yourself love me
do you think i can change it in a day
how can i place you above me
am i lying to you when i say
that i believe in you
-n. young
it's one of those days when a song just sears
itself into your head and won't quit.
this is off of After The Goldrush, a seminal album for me,
the one that opens with Tell Me Why and is it hard to make arrangements with yourself though you're old enough to repay but young enough to sell,
which i'd listen to, along with Blue and Tupelo Honey, in the
summer of 1971, going to bed in the basement of Quayside Lodge in Falmouth, MA
about 20 yards from the harbor where there sat a boat carrying several hairy members of
Mountain who lived on it for the summer,
and lighting my honeysuckle candle
and thinking about the 19 year old chambermaids
whose room was down the hall in the basement there,
who took me up to Falmouth Heights
near the top of the harbor to a white wooden apartment house
among many close together there on the hill, with creaky rotting stairs
and people making out everywhere including on the front porch
which had a little refrigerator full of beers which was just so cool,
and me in my purple bell bottoms that rubbed together on my chubby thighs
as i continuously flipped my sweaty hair off my forehead,
wishing so hard i could be cool,
trying to drink in the atmosphere even then,
learning how to snort disgusting peppermint snuff that made me sneeze
and not getting the "rush" whatever that was the chambermaids said i'd get,
lying in my bed, thinking that neil and i shared a name and maybe more;
it was the sound of my adolescence,
of my belief in love and peace and long hair and beads
and scented candles and incense,
and nothing else should matter, right, but the music and the promise of love and pretty girls,
and the mystery of sex and not to trust anyone over 30,
that the people on the hill had it right, even if some of them were passed out, they were passed out together in a hug and that was beautiful.