Trouble

Trouble
Oh trouble set me free
I have seen your face
And it’s too much too much for me

Trouble
Oh trouble can’t you see
You’re eating my heart away
And there’s nothing much left of me

I’ve drunk your wine
You have made your world mine
So won’t you be fair
So won’t you be fair

I’ll always alternately think of Harold and Maude or Tiananmen Square when I hear this song. When I was doing more busking, I learned a bastardized variant of this song (because I am self-taught and never mastered good guitar form for all my wonky techniques) and played it on the streets in the wake of the massacre. This song and Steven’s Father and Son will always elicit a tear if I’m in a decent mood, or send me bawling like a baby if I’m in a bad mood. Certain things touch me like that — like the monologue at the end of the duel in Dangerous Liaisons. If you don’t like seeing a man cry, never expose me to any of these three things when you see me face-to-face (and others, which I won’t share). Considering that’s pretty unlikely, I don’t have to worry about embarrassing myself.

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