November 16th, 1998
Gee, I wish that I had a girl like the other fellows have.
Someone to fuss over me…
To cheer me up when I feel sad.
On Wednesday night, when I’m all alone…
When I oughtta be up at some sweetheart’s home.
And I’m lonesome, awfully lonesome.
Gee, I wish I had a girl.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the star of the show, but it’s not such a happy tale. The house lights go down, the curtains open, and then the spotlight hits me. I don’t know how to behave. What do they want from me? What does the audience expect? Who’s producing this thing? I never got a script; instead, it seems as though I were just expected to wing it.
What? You want me to dance? I’ve been foolish enough times to know when I’m licked; I don’t have a choice here. So every night, just like the night before, I put on the makeup and the costume, and I go back out there for my audience. I’m not going to make it anywhere, not like this. Maybe this would be breaking contract, but I think it’d be best if I were to quit this show and actually make myself honest.
But every step I take to get out of this crummy joint is followed by music.
Did you hear that?
They’re following me…
There it is again.
And again…
…and again.
And again!
Make it stop!
Oh god, why can’t I be free?! What do you want?!
They’re taunting me. I’m like a puppet on strings.
This must be hell. It must be. But why? Did I come here for something? I’m not a bad person, am I? I surely haven’t done much for myself, but is that such a sin? Maybe it’s her. Maybe I’m here for her. Maybe she’s stuck too. If so, then I should get her. I should find her and take her and run and…
She’s…
She’s real. I know she is. She must be. The music is changing. It’s becoming something else. So this show isn’t just featuring me…
There are other players involved. I don’t get the angle, but I’m sure I see enough of the picture to know that I shouldn’t stick around.
I don’t know where or when. I don’t know how. But I have to find her and take her by the hand. Then I’ve got to see to it that the both of us get out of here. This dream or nightmare, whatever it is, we have to leave. We’ll continue this little dance in the dark for just as long as we have to, and then we’ll make tracks.
And then we’ll…
And then we’ll see that this was all just a dream; a fantasy. The credits roll, and I’m left all alone, kicking rocks around the parking lot because I have no reason to rush home. I don’t have any reason to get to bed early, and I don’t have any reason to wake up. Well, aren’t I just sober and straight and narrow? Yeah, I suppose I am.
Gee, I wish I had a girl.
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