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Love Songs For Loners

by Michael Paul Lawson

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1.
You think I’d be settled by now. I’ve had my share of ups and downs. You think I would have learned. Well, I’ve got money to burn, So much forgiveness to earn. Yet here I am on my way downtown Where all of the girls get dolled up—makeup and high-heeled shoes. Citrus fruit and magnolia eau de parfum. Hell, I don’t know where I’m going in life, But I know where I’m going tonight. In the morning I’ll still feel the glow. Come noon I’ll be feeling so alone. Nothing lost, nothing to show. There ain’t no love songs for loners, it’s a losing game. And I’ll admit I’m low, but I’m not low enough to make a change So, I don’t know where I’m going in life, But I know where I’m going tonight. I know where I’m going tonight. I know where I’m going tonight.
2.
You’re fighting for her love, but you’re in an empty ring. Every round, your punch-drunk heart goes down without a swing. She don’t care what you’ve learned or what you could become when you are the one before the one. You try to find some peace of mind but can’t stop wondering If all the time you gave to her ever meant a thing. Cause she’s moved on and found herself a Hollywood kind of love, and now you’re just the one before the one. You are the one broken heart she’ll remember when she’s closing her eyes next to his. You are the last goodbye, the last one to make her cry. You are the one before the one. Just when you think you’re doing fine you find out she’s engaged. You try and try with all your might but just can’t look away. Sure as day she’s smiling now like she’s never done. She’s not thinking of the one before the one. You are the one broken heart she’ll remember when she’s closing her eyes next to his. You are the last goodbye, the last one to make her cry. You are the one before the one. You are the one before the one. You are the one before the one.
3.
Lucille 04:16
All day long I stare at a computer screen. All night long I stare at the ceiling hoping to dream Until I get up out of bed and turn on the TV. And it says to me, “son, you’re not in the place you’re supposed to be.” Oh, Lucille, How’d we ever get this far? From where we were to wherever the hell you are. Somewhere you’re reading bedtime stories softly to your kids While I’m heating up my dinner in the microwave again. I tried to be a good man, sometimes I think I am.
Well, you always said I had such a good imagination
 Huh Lucille? How’d we ever get this far? From where we were to wherever the hell you are. I’ve been learning how to manage; how to mitigate the damage when nothing goes the way you planned it. Oh dammit all, Lucille. Hey Lucille, How’d we ever get this far? From where we were to wherever the hell you are. Hey Lucille, did you ever leave your mark? Like we talked about when we still got a thrill out of the dark. I’ve been learning how to manage, how to mitigate the damage when nothing goes the way you planned it all. Oh Lucille, Oh Lucille, Oh dammit all Lucille.
 Oh Lucille, Oh Lucille, Oh dammit all Lucille.
4.
The Snow 04:17
The snow is coming down this morning. It shows no signs of letting up. There’s not a single soul out on this county road, just me in this old Jimmy truck. The wind is coming through the floorboards. I feel the draft on my toes. Your flight lands in 20 minutes or so. I still got 50 miles to go.
 Been a few years since you moved away. A couple more since I last felt your touch. I still keep your photo in my old bill fold. I’d never let you know as much. I wonder what you think of me now. I wonder if you see me the same. Damn this snow sure is coming down. I wonder if you’re nervous on that plane.
 These windshield wipers ain’t doing much. I pull behind a big snow plow. Rubber meets the road. Oh, honey, here I go. I’m in that home stretch now For Hancock International. I see the lights dimly through the squall. Pull into that parking garage, heart beating like a hammer on the wall. Heart beating like a hammer on the wall. Heart beating like a hammer on the wall.
5.
Maple 03:32
I want to write a song. The kind that one day might make you sing along. I want to make you feel the way I do when I’m crawling at your heels. Watch the maple turn red again wondering when you might see what’s right beneath your toes. Oh, I suppose it’s good enough to be this close. I want you to see my face and all of its intricate shapes. I want you to see the stars in my eyes when you’re staring up at the midnight sky. Watch the maple turn to bone and shiver in the cold. You still don’t see what’s right beneath your nose. Oh, I suppose it’s good enough to be this close. I know it wouldn’t matter. I know it wouldn’t matter at all. Still, all I do; all I do is fall fall fall for you. Watch the maple turn red again still reticent to let you know what you mean to me. Oh, I suppose it’s gonna have to be good enough to be this close.
6.
Baltimore 03:30
Heading home tomorrow from Baltimore Harbor. Not sure when I’ll be coming back. She’s looking for an answer. Well, I don’t know it. And if she knows the truth I never noticed. We’re dancing in the kitchen to A Waltz About Whiskey, trying to stay awake. But it’s hard to keep time when your time is borrowed, and it’s getting late. Staring up at the skylight, sun is coming through; slurring my thoughts and blurring my sight. She’s laying there beside me trying to find a reason why we made the choice we did last night. Listen to that clock on the wall like some metronome ticking at a God-awful pace. But it’s hard to keep time when your time is borrowed, and it’s getting late. Sometimes love is easy, but mostly it’s just hard work—promises we’re not sure we can keep. Then you add the miles in, state lines, and driving, suddenly it’s out of reach. Back home in my living room alone, whiskey on ice. Listening to Mandolin Orange, wishing she was here to dance with tonight.
7.
849 04:20
Red paint on the wall; a message to us all that says, “eat the rich. Make the ruling class pay for their own crisis.” Well, the Governor did decree that everyone is free to do as they please; “so long as you vote for me in the primaries.” “Oh pretty please?” Hard to believe we’re gonna make it out alive. I guess I should get in line. I’m number eight four nine and I’ve been here all day, When a grey-haired woman says, “sir, you’re standing in my way.” I went down to see my father. We sat outside under the telephone wires and had a full conversation in complete and utter silence. Oh what a feeling. It’s so healing running out of time. So, this is how it feels to lose all four of your wheels In the middle of the road with no inclination of how the hell to get back home? I’m rolling over in my grave. I know that I haven’t made it there quite yet. Come by next week and check on my progress. Oh, bring flowers please. It’s hard to believe we didn’t make it out alive. “Now serving, number 849.”
8.
Down at the Franklin on a Thursday night waiting on an order of greens. The regulars are at the bar going on and on and on about the way shit used to be. How the steel mill done sold out, how they might as well close it down, how nothing in this town feels right. Cities aren’t built in a day but they damn sure come down overnight. Hell, we swore that we could make it here on hard work alone; on the copper that they named this city for. It’s so easy to dig up the past; so hard to love where you’re at. No amount of progress changes that. Back down on Varick Street once again. Two dollar pints with some old high school friends. Trying our best not to blend in with the rest of our classmates we tried to forget. We turned our noses in the air like we were better off anywhere; anywhere but here. So we packed our bags on the day we turned eighteen and ran away for any place where no one knew our names. We swore that our convictions were as clear as the cups on the bar tops in the town where we grew up. It’s so easy to dig up the past; so hard to love where you’re at, and no amount of leaving changes that. I fell in love in VA, but somebody took my place while I was waiting for a better one to come along. Then I did the same thing in a couple other states while I was longing for the ones that I did wrong. You’re always longing for the ones that you do wrong. I was biting my own tail like an animal that's trapped doing anything he can to get it back. It’s so easy to dig up the past, so hard to love where you’re at. No amount of living changes that.
 Until you love what little bit you have.

credits

released October 7, 2022

All songs written by Michael Paul Lawson (BMI)

Produced by: Ken Coomer
Recorded by: Ken Coomer at Cartoon Moon Studios in Nashville, TN
Assistant Engineer: Alberto Sewald
Mixed by: Gabe Masterson at Cartoon Moon Studios in Nashville, TN
Mastered by: Jonathan Pines at Private Studios in Urbana, IL

Main Band
Laur Joamets: Electric Guitar, Baritone Guitar, and Acoustic Guitar
Billy Mercer: Electric Bass and Upright Bass
Ken Coomer: Drums and Percussion
Michael Paul Lawson: Vocals and Acoustic Guitar

Additional Musicians
Michael Webb: B-3 Organ and Harmonium

© & ℗ 2022 Michael Paul Lawson

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Michael Paul Lawson Austin, Texas

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