And now for the second-longest song in this collection.
The events of this song take place at a bar in downtown Tampa called The Hub. It's a very smoky place with some incredibly-strong mixed drinks. This song gets pretty filthy at the end, which is probably why I like it so much.
lyrics
it was quite a surprise to see you walk in
to the bar, you said you were just visiting
the boyfriend that you hadn't seen since last may
when you first moved away
you flew in last night and were staying at your sisters
leaving in the morning on the first flight to pittsburgh
then back to work monday to teach english lit
to some sleepy college kids
you told him that you'd meet him here at eleven
but you showed up early in order to strengthen
the resolve you felt was lacking in you
to give him the bad news
you called him a good man and a suitable mate
but the feeling was fading and the distance too great
cos six months between a lover's last touch
is just six months too much
and i couldn't agree with you more
i've been there so many times before
and the songs they inspired
weren't worth the headaches required
we had been friends for a while but we weren't really close
for a couple of moments the remoteness showed
an awkward pause here and the odd stammer there
in the nicotine-fueled air
we were both a part of the tired local scene
where there's no ambition, just the same old dreams
and when the teaching job opened you were quickly gone
and you left us here to dream on
the words flowed more freely as the evening progressed
as we finished one drink and moved on to the next
soon we were speaking with a relative ease
that we both could clearly see
we ditched the small talk for topics more varied
for new conversations told slow and unhurried
exchanging opinions, ideas, and views
then i stopped and smiled at you
'why didn't we do this long ago,
when you lived just blocks from my home?
why did we have to wait
until it was much too late?'
another beer for me, for you a whiskey sour
your boyfriend would be showing up in an hour
the bar got more crowded, we could barely move
as the smoke filled up the room
you set down your drink and asked if i'd know
of another more subdued place we could go
where you wouldn't be forced to raise your voice
just to be heard through the noise
i suggested a park just a few blocks away
that was down by the river where the homeless men stayed
but otherwise quiet and empty at this time
you said that sounded fine
so we finished our drinks and started our walking
past downtown's dull buildings, we continued talking
til we found a park bench and took our seats
then you turned and leaned towards me
i could tell what'd come next from your eyes
but your kiss still took me by surprise
and the actions that followed
just could not wait til tomorrow
you told me not to worry cos you were on the pill
and i had no choice but to believe you, still
there is always some doubt when things are done this way
with no barriers to separate
so we gave way to motion and friction and feeling
maneuvered the park bench with homeless eyes peering
but we were oblivious to anyone else
all our focus on ourselves
with all things complete and with one final kiss, you
regretted not bringing any napkins or tissues
an uneasy walk, though still much worthwhile
with a sly, mischievous smile
so dirty and bedraggled and discreetly hushed
with stains on our clothing and cheeks fully flushed
we stopped at a corner to say our goodbyes
before you went back inside
'i hope everything goes well
have a safe flight back, farewell'
you went back to the bar
as i walked silently to my car
credits
from Curtains,
released March 5, 2013
Written by Carl Polgar.
Performed by Philip Clark (electric guitar), Mark Harris (drums), and Carl Polgar (vocals, acoustic guitar).
Recorded in the fall of 2005 by Philip Clark in the basement of the house he was renting in Nashville, which supposedly was owned by Janis Ian.
A nostalgic record full of ambling rhythms, vivid imagery, and cotton-soft melodies tapped out on an ever-present ’70s synth-organ hybrid. Bandcamp Album of the Day Nov 11, 2021
All proceeds from Julia Julian frontperson Max Ripps' experimental indie pop EP will be donated to Philadelphia Community Bail Fund. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 17, 2020
