Talk About it
Verse 1:
One day they finally told me it’d be good for me
To come here and talk to you
I didn’t take offence at all, i thought it was a joke
Cus that’s the sort of thing my friends might do
They said there was no guarantee
But it might somehow be good for me
I didn’t understand and still don’t see
The point of this and what the hell am I supposed to do
Chorus:
Cuz I, I don’t talk about it much
I’m not sure that I should
I’ve managed all these years
I’ve done the best I could
I don’t talk about it much
I don’t remember talking ever doing me a whole lot of good
Verse 2:
You should know – there are things I won’t discuss
Things that I just don’t want to show
There are things I keep inside
Some things that make sense to hide
I survived them all and never cried
So there are probably things I’ll never let you know
Chorus:
Cuz I, I don’t talk about it much
I’m not sure that i should
I’ve managed all these years
I’ve done the best I could
I don’t talk about it much
I don’t remember talking ever doing me a whole lot of good
Bridge:
This is scarier than I’ll admit – I’d never let that show
I was always hanging by a thread – but no one needed to know
Lately things have gotten worse – maybe more than I can take
But even so I worry that this could be a big mistake
Verse 3:
Somehow I’ve managed to get myself here
But now I guess I crossed some sort of line
But I’m terrified I’ll get it wrong
This is a song about six words. “I don’t talk about it much.” Those words occurred to me one day, along with something similar to the melody and rhythm that define the chorus, and I recorded them onto my phone. That happened well over two years ago.
Over the last couple of years I’d consider what to do with those words. What didn’t I talk about much? Why didn’t I talk about it? What’s interesting about not taking about it?
The song itself took shape over the last 3 months. It went a number of different directions, both musically and lyrically, but ended with what you can hear here.
It’s me singing and I’m also playing guitar. The guitar isn’t dominant (I’m not a fabulous player) but is the driver of the rhythm – perhaps even more than the bass and drums.
Those 6 words make me remember Dad…he didn’t talk about the war much.