Tag Archives: Relationships

Song Lyric Sunday: Separating the Men from the Boys

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Jim Adams is the host for Song Lyric Sunday. This week’s theme is Boy Bands.

This is how shallow I am. Back in 1994, I started seeing a bloke who was into writing poetry, saving the planet and being an all-round good egg. Things were going well until I discovered a fact so hideous, I was forced to run for the hills.

The man of my dreams, gulp, was a fan of Boyzone (and Take That before them). Why wasn’t he into Nick Drake or Leonard Cohen? Asking a club DJ to dedicate Love Me for a Reason to me is not a surefire way to capture my heart.

We smooched around the floor together (me with gritted teeth) and had a massive row about music on the way home. Our budding romance died on the vine.

But we both moved on. Within twelve months, he became a copper and married a lady from Israel, and I met my future husband. But I still remind myself not to be such a judgemental twit. Sometimes it works.

Girl when you hold me how you control me
You bend and you fold me any way you please
It must be easy for you the loving things that you do
Are just a pastime for you I could never be

And I never know, girl, if I should stay or go
’cause the games that you play keep driving me away

Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason, let the reason be love
Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason, let the reason be love

Kisses and caresses are only minor tests, babe
Of love lead to stresses between a woman and a man
So if love everlasting isn’t what you’re asking
I’ll have to pass, girl I’m proud to take a stand

I can’t continue guessing because it’s only messing
With my pride and my mind so write down this time to time

Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason let the reason be love
Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason let the reason be love

I’m just a little old-fashioned it takes more than physical attraction
My initial reaction is honey give me love not a facsimile of

Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason let the reason be love
Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason let the reason be love

Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason let the reason be love
Don’t love me for fun, girl, let me be the one, girl
Love me for a reason let the reason be love

Songwriters: David Jones Jr, Johnny Bristol & Wade Brown
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

The Saturday Shed: Handfasted

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Image source: pixabay.com

Tales from the Saturday Shed: The prompt this week is PAYBACK.
For those with the time or inclination: Feel free to join in!

“Martine, for the love of God.” His voice is soft, and she strains to hear him. “Please, take my hand.”

She shakes her head and stares at his other hand. The one clenching the railing, the one that clutched hers when he asked her to marry him.

“We don’t want a big wedding, do we, Marty?” Dean said as he slid an engagement ring on her finger. “We’ll go to a registry office.”

She hated that stupid, sterile ceremony.

“Marty, I’m begging you,” he pleads, the words almost blown away by the wind that tears at their clothes. He adjusts his grip and reaches for her.

Just like Daddy did before Mummy pulled her away.

“You’re not taking her, you bastard.” Spit flew from her mouth, hitting Daddy. He took out a handkerchief, but instead of wiping his face, he held it out.

“Don’t cry, Marty,” he said, but he was the one with tears in his eyes. “I’ll be back to see you soon.”

“Over my dead body,” her mother hissed, pushing him off the doorstep and slamming the door.

Marty never saw him again, but the next day she found the crumpled handkerchief lying on the path. Mummy snatched it from her and burnt it on the fire.

“Martine!” There is fear in Dean’s voice and on his face.

“I’m tired,” she tells him.

He shuffles forward and speaks to her as if she is hard of hearing. “We can talk about this later. Why don’t you step away from the edge?” He extends both hands to her.

She closes her eyes and remembers…

Mummy dragging her past the tumblers and fire-eaters. “For goodness’ sake, Martine, will you stop dawdling.”

The nurse whisking away her stillborn son before she had a chance to hold him. “I’ll just take this.”

Dean clasping her to him and sobbing, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

But it did.

Marty opens her eyes and for the first time in her life, she takes a hand rather than let a hand take her.

Dean’s face falls slack with relief. “Come on, let’s go home.” He pulls her towards him.

“No, I have a better idea.” She takes a firm grip.

“What?”

“This!” she says, stepping backwards. As they tumble over the cliff, Marty lets go.