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Another bonus track, so to speak. I'm big into the comedy of the pathetic; that is, when something's just so sad and depressing that it becomes hilarious. Maybe I'm the only one. Anyway, at one point I had a girlfriend who I'd take to Freedom Park in Charlotte to make out and listen to Pixies music. Every date. Every single date.

lyrics

You’ve got to admit that it’s not going to work
We’re drifting apart and our lines of communication are down
I’ve never been so lost, and God, I’ve never felt so alone
I have to admit I don’t know how to stop all the hurt
But popular wisdom says when it comes to burning affairs of the heart
That you’ve got to rekindle the flames of desire
You have to go back to the start
So let’s take a walk down memory lane
Baby, put your hand in mine
Let’s recreate our very first date
Let’s go back in time
Let’s take a trip through time
Let’s drive down to Freedom Park and make out
Let’s fold down the backseat of my mom’s station wagon
And I’ll stick my tongue in your mouth
Let’s clutch at each other just like we did
Before the marriage went south
Let’s go down to Freedom Park and make out
We’re not going to get any younger, you know how it works
Pretty soon my scalp will reflect the sun and your breasts will double for knees
If we get divorced, we’ll die sad and alone in one-bedroom apartments surrounded by cats
So before it’s too late, let’s take that left off of East Boulevard
We’ll park the car and each wait for the other to open their door first
I’ll stare out the window and hand-check my breath
While you rummage through your purse
I’ll lean over and kiss your neck
As I’m taking off my shades
You’ll say, “Baby, wait, let’s listen to this
Mix tape I made.
It’s a Pixies mix tape.”
We’ll sit there in Freedom Park and make out
I’ll fumble clumsily with your bra
And then I’ll try to push your head south
You’ll ask for a rubber and I’ll act as though
I don’t know what you’re talking about
While we sit down in Freedom Park and make out
The flames of our love will burn
Brighter than any star
So bright that the cop who knocks on the window
Will see two youthful lovers locked
In a youthful embrace and not some middle-aged
Couple who’s desperately trying to save their
Marriage in back of a car
We won’t have to drive far
We’ll just drive down to Freedom Park and make out
You’ll lean back your seat and pretend that your sex drive
Isn’t deader than Bozo the Clown
We’ll try to forget that I cry in my sleep
And that you’re slightly more racist as Song of the South
While we sit down in Freedom Park and make out

credits

from Here's What I Really Think of You, released October 17, 2009
Recorded and mixed by Scott Slagle at Asylum Digital Recording, Charlotte NC.

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David Golden

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