“I watch her glide through the tables of patrons, light and graceful, sharp and hard.” You-are-there ballad of exhilarating/devastating post-pubescent passion. Jon Ohnder: “Written in 1983/4 because the Icons gave it a few tries live. This track is TB on all instruments and voices, ala “McCartney” or classic Rundgren, with beginnings of the double-tracked, finger-picked acoustic guitar approach...”
Lyrics
SHE SAID SHE.
(Timothy Brickley and David Rheins)
I watch her glide through the tables of patrons,
Light and graceful, sharp and hard.
She moves so fast under those lights of amber,
the fire of youth is what she’s here for.
Everyone’s pretty and everyone’s high,
nobody gives a goddam why.
She washes her worries about it all,
but she said she loved it when I called her doll.
The fan in the window feels as nice
as her sleeping on me, which makes twice.
I can finally study her face,
a rare chance to have her in one place.
She’s constant motion, never still,
even sleeps restless, tossing until the morning.
(And it seems like I’ve come out of a really long sleep.
Suddenly every movie appears so deep,
but I know that can’t be, it’s got to be me.
Yet, I really feel for this heroine.
The French Foreign Legion has taken her lover.
She’s in Paris, sleeping with his brother.
She doesn’t love him, but he got her back into the Theatre.
And she’s loves Theatre.
But now her lovers back, the brothers meet,
the pain of betrayal runs so deep,
that she takes a tiny pistol and puts herself to sleep.
I go back, to watch you sleep, doll.)
She don’t even blink, confronted with the facts,
the constant drinking, the care-less sex.
She washes her worries about it all,
But she said she loved it when I called her doll,
Copyright 1984, Timothy Brickley & David Rheins.
