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"Fell Right In" | davelovell.net
Sep 092010
 

I’ve reworked this song a few times… think I may finally be done play­ing with it.  I have some audio that I will add to this post later on — think really early Jack­son Brown.

Fell Right In

In the early evening shad­ows, of some run-down Bar & Grill,

she sat scratch­ing in a note­book, empty pages still to fill.

She knew the words she should be writ­ing, of a life well lived by now.

As empty pages stayed unwrit­ten, she took a quiet, hope­ful vow…

cho­rus

No more wait­ing for a phone call

no more leav­ing things to fate.

She’d done every­thing they told her,

but all she’d ever done was wait.

Did her hair and fixed her make-up,

ran to China at the gym.

Made her­self another person

dug a hole, and fell right in.

*

She let the door slam shut behind her, stood up straight and walked away.

Headed out into the moon­light, to walk until the break of day.

Look­ing for a port of entry, some way to put her­self in view.

If her cell phone started ring­ing, this time she’d know what to do…

*

She’d left the note­book on the table, and she headed out the door,

as her waiter wan­dered over, just incase she needed more.

He saw her book of empty pages & thought it looked just like his own,

saw her num­ber in the mar­gin, breathed in deep, and grabbed his phone

*

He’d been dying to make a phone call,

But he didn’t know to who.

He kept wait­ing on his tables,

Hop­ing she’d walk into view.

He could feel his hopes were fading

didn’t know what else to do.

Made him­self another person

Dug a hole, and fell right in.

*

This is Bill, I was your waiter, at the bar up on the hill,

and I think you left your note­book, I’ve got my own I’ve tried to fill.

It’s so sweet of you to call me, most peo­ple really aren’t that kind,

and I love that you’re a writer, for me it’s just to pass the time.

*

I hate for you to be with­out it, I’d be lost with­out my own,

I’d be happy to deliver,  - no ones here, and I’m alone.

If it’s really not a bother, and if you really wouldn’t mind,

you could run it by the lake­side, I won’t be hard for you to find.

*

Now they’re mak­ing their own phone calls

Never leav­ing things to fate.

No more wait­ing like they’d been told,

they were fed-up with the wait.

Stuck in holes of their own making

All they needed was a hand

They took firm grip on the other

up from their holes, to live again.

 Posted by at 5:51 am

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