I didn’t need to listen to the rest of the message
when you said you were sorry before you said why
it wasn’t that I didn’t see it coming
it’s just that I don’t know what to do now.
it wasn’t that I didn’t see it coming
it’s just that I don’t know what to do now
(chorus):
we all get a little crazy sometimes
lord knows I been there myself
but when you say it’s no one’s fault
sure seems like it’s something else
feels like it’s something else.
well I’m right here where you found me
and you can drop by any time
you always said I look better in the dark
so when you come in, don’t turn on the light.
you said I look better in the dark
so if you come in, just pretend you’re blind
(chorus)
(instrumental)
(bridge):
they say what doesn’t kill makes you stronger
but I’d rather jump in the middle of the ocean
than hear your voice again on that damn recording.
I didn’t need to listen to the rest of the message
when you said you were sorry before you said why
before you said why (x3)
I rediscovered “The Message” while prowling through some old incomplete lyrics. What I caught my attention was the chorus and especially the opening:
I didn’t need to listen to the rest of the message
When you said you were sorry before you said why
I didn’t remember writing those lines, but upon discovering it, I recognized its powerful image: a Dear John voicemail. In fact, after writing it as is, the title was Voicemail, but it never felt right. And Melissa confirmed that feeling, so it became “The Message.”
My discovery didn’t come with a melody (though I hope to start keeping an audio of my works-in-progress). And I didn’t like the verses, so there was work to be done.
I don’t write many songs with repetitive lines, but in the first verse the repetition underscores that helpless feeling evoked in the opening. In keeping with the structure of the repetitive lines in the second verse, I gave myself some leeway to expand on wanting to be in the dark. By the way, the first time I played this song out at an informal jam, someone laughed at the line:
you always said I looked better in the dark
That sort of shook me. It certainly wasn’t intended as a laugh line, though I do understand I risked that by using it as a sexual reference. Other performances didn’t elicit laughter, so I felt better. Perhaps that person hadn’t really been listening….yet, always seeking to be clear, I have lately taken to signing the first line: “You always said we looked better in the dark,” while returning to the singular first person on the repeat.
I also don’t adhere to the proper structure for bridges (a contrast in melody and lyrics that returns you to a verse or the chorus). Some pop country songwriters think almost every song should have one.Then, there are those who believe only those songs without a chorus should have bridges. Usually songs with two verses, then a bridge, then a third verse, like “Yesterday.”
Few would use a bridge as I do here, at the end of the song. But I thought it set up the return to the first line better, especially when the first line was going to be repeated at the end.
This song wouldn’t have been included on the CD if not for Melissa. It felt old, or rather I felt too old to be releasing such a plaintive love-lost song. So, fast-forward to a Savannah Songwriter Series showcase where I performed “The Message,” with the intro that its inclusion and performance were Melissa’s doing. Afterward, two gentlemen, one with children in college and the other with at least two grandchildren, came up to me and said how much they liked it and that Melissa was right.
So, once again, Melissa is right and I’m wrong. Notice I didn’t lead with this assetion, as it’s hardly news.
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don’t remember the song but always am interested in the thought process behind your songs