“Something happens and I’m head over heels… I never find out, til I’m head over heels…”

(c) Orzabal/Smith, “Head Over Heels”, from the album “Songs From The Big Chair”, 1985

This was written in October 2014. Basically, I met someone who hooked me all the way in, very fast and I found myself regurgitated back up again equally quickly. An emotional bulimic, maybe, without being too harsh on her. Then again, maybe it is a little harsh…. Regardless of how much initial pleasure it may give to the senses, ultimately food is inert, it doesnt aspire to be re-consumed once its been sampled and then wrapped up in some kitchen paper and put in the waste.  Anyway. I’m drifting off topic. This was written as the writing on the wall became clearer.

This concept of someone who just cant help but leave a particularly sensitive part of himself behind in someone else’s world, no matter how short an amount of time he spends there, with the hope that they’ll wake up to the notion that all they have to do is just acknowledge it, is me all over I guess. Romanticized futility in three stanzas.

If anything, its more a poem than anything else at the moment. Not sure what is going to happen to it yet. There are bits of it that I think would work lyrically as a song, but others that I’m not so sure about. Eitherway, I’m not convinced that it’ll make the KOAS album cuts. Not in this form.

Heart On A Shelf

Verse 1/
I can kid myself I’m wise
But I’m just a sentimental guy
I keep leaving my heart behind
But I know where it hides
On your pillow
In your room
Leaving it growing
Promise me you’ll find it soon?

Bridge/
And maybe I’ll remember next time
Not to leave it behind
Or maybe I’ll bury it in your garden
For you maybe one day to find

Chorus/
Even thought its right under your nose
Blooming like a flower
In the new spring or winter melting snow
Know that it’ll stay right with you
No matter where you go

Verse 2/
And you can ignore it or leave it behind
Abandon it if you think you must
You can choose not to take any promise I make
And put it all down just to middle aged lust

Verse 3/Coda/

But thats not me, I’m not what you see
Not just another old book bound in dust
My heart’s still there on your shelf
Still beating away all by itself
And there it’ll stay
Waiting for your touch

(c) Steve McCarthy-Hunt Oct 2014