When you sleep
I will creep
Into your thoughts
Like a bad debt
That you can’t pay
Take the easy way
And give in
Yeah, and let me in
Anyone who takes relationship advice from Morrissey has issues. I understand that. But there is no doubting that the Mozfather take on relationships is eerily akin to my own. However it would be sorely off base to say I enjoy the thrill of the chase. That would imply that the ebbs and flows of the relationship inspire a surge of confidence in myself and my pursuit of what I want. I liken the experience to that of a kitten nipping and meowing at its owner’s feet; following him around incessantly until he is so tired of tripping over you that he finally picks you up.
But then once he picks you up, you realize that in mere moments he is going to realize that you have kitty breath and can do little more than look at him quizzically. So you scamper off. But then you still want to be with him. So you stay close and jump up for quick cuddles every now and again.
And the longer he stays away the more I wonder what he’s doing. Even if just a day goes by without a phone call or a text or an email I find myself unconsciously heading to the Market on Yates, or the Black Stilt or even just a wanderlust walk that lands me smack dab right in his neighbourhood.
It a bit sad, I guess. I mean what would my women’s lib sisters say if they heard me comparing myself to a kitten and referring to him as my owner? Not good.
He’s not that great, I know. It’s a go nowhere situation. But there’s something about him that keeps clobbering me over the head and dragging me back by my hair.
I will creep
Into your thoughts
Like a bad debt
That you can’t pay
Take the easy way
And give in
Yeah, and let me in
Anyone who takes relationship advice from Morrissey has issues. I understand that. But there is no doubting that the Mozfather take on relationships is eerily akin to my own. However it would be sorely off base to say I enjoy the thrill of the chase. That would imply that the ebbs and flows of the relationship inspire a surge of confidence in myself and my pursuit of what I want. I liken the experience to that of a kitten nipping and meowing at its owner’s feet; following him around incessantly until he is so tired of tripping over you that he finally picks you up.
But then once he picks you up, you realize that in mere moments he is going to realize that you have kitty breath and can do little more than look at him quizzically. So you scamper off. But then you still want to be with him. So you stay close and jump up for quick cuddles every now and again.
And the longer he stays away the more I wonder what he’s doing. Even if just a day goes by without a phone call or a text or an email I find myself unconsciously heading to the Market on Yates, or the Black Stilt or even just a wanderlust walk that lands me smack dab right in his neighbourhood.
It a bit sad, I guess. I mean what would my women’s lib sisters say if they heard me comparing myself to a kitten and referring to him as my owner? Not good.
He’s not that great, I know. It’s a go nowhere situation. But there’s something about him that keeps clobbering me over the head and dragging me back by my hair.
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