Michael Friedman - Something lyrics
[Michael Friedman - Something lyrics]
And when Dean Street's just a memory
Don't think back at what went wrong
The mistakes we made all fade away
What matters is the song
Just keep searching for a space
It'll be better out here
Let the past disappear maybe next year
I hope you don't look back in anger
I hope you don't look back don't look back
You said something about Brooklyn
You said something about the block
You said something about being the only
White kid in the hood
And when I asked anything specific
You were never in the mood
You'd say the only thing that saved me
Were the songs of Barrett Rude
Sorry, Barrett Rude Junior
And you said nothing about how you
Knew the songs of Barrett Rude
Or knew the singer Barrett Rude
Or knew the son of Barrett Rude
You said la la la my best friend was black
La la la la, some shit went down
La la la la, I don't go back
Then you'd quickly change the subject to
Some b-side by James Brown
And I saw every plastic cover
Records, comics kept like new
And I said this boy collects things
And now he's collecting you and I said
La la la, I'm okay being collected
La la, 'cause then he'll tell me everything
La la la, just don't ask about his mother
Just don't ask to go to Brooklyn
La la, don't say a word about that ring
I kind of thought that ring might be for me
Something old, something new
Something bothered blue
But he acts like it has powers
Like a ring to rule them all
Like a ring straight out of Wagner
Like a ring to make you fly
So I thought:
La la la, maybe you can be his sidekick
La la la, maybe that would make him stay
La la la, am I just another story
That black girlfriend in Berkeley
Like that black best friend on Dean Street
Another song that you can play
After you've finally run away
California dreamin'
California
When the Berkeley dream is done you can run
Run
Do you want to fly away?
I would fly with you, Dylan
Who's that ring for, Dylan?
You keep telling all these stories
How your mother just abandoned you
And ran away to Berkeley
And she left you all these records
And that's how you knew about Junior
That amazing lost soul singer
Who's apparently not lost
'Cause he lives next door to your father
Who you never go to visit
'Cause you ran away to Berkeley
Where you picked up this great girlfriend
Was there anything else you neglected
When you seduced me with that music?
La la la, all those sad soul singers
With those songs that are authentic
Did you tell me anything authentic?
Anything at all? You just said
La la la la, I don't go back
La la la la, I don't go back
Don't look back
Go back
Don't look back
Go back
Don't look back
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief
Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief
Big man, little man, who ya gonna be
Will you ever sing your song to -
Burnt umber sparkling pearl
Antique silver brass pearl
Royal gold fluorescent purple
La la, all those forgotten singers
Whose lives "don't really matter"
You said: "Those people's lives don't matter
Only the songs really matter"
Those songs that are "authentic"
Because they sing their pain
Don't think back at what went wrong
The mistakes we made all fade away
What matters is the song
Just keep searching for a space
It'll be better out here
Let the past disappear maybe next year
I hope you don't look back in anger
I hope you don't look back don't look back
You said something about Brooklyn
You said something about the block
You said something about being the only
White kid in the hood
And when I asked anything specific
You were never in the mood
You'd say the only thing that saved me
Were the songs of Barrett Rude
Sorry, Barrett Rude Junior
And you said nothing about how you
Knew the songs of Barrett Rude
Or knew the singer Barrett Rude
Or knew the son of Barrett Rude
You said la la la my best friend was black
La la la la, some shit went down
La la la la, I don't go back
Then you'd quickly change the subject to
Some b-side by James Brown
And I saw every plastic cover
Records, comics kept like new
And I said this boy collects things
And now he's collecting you and I said
La la la, I'm okay being collected
La la, 'cause then he'll tell me everything
La la la, just don't ask about his mother
Just don't ask to go to Brooklyn
La la, don't say a word about that ring
I kind of thought that ring might be for me
Something old, something new
Something bothered blue
But he acts like it has powers
Like a ring to rule them all
Like a ring straight out of Wagner
Like a ring to make you fly
So I thought:
La la la, maybe you can be his sidekick
La la la, maybe that would make him stay
La la la, am I just another story
That black girlfriend in Berkeley
Like that black best friend on Dean Street
Another song that you can play
After you've finally run away
California dreamin'
California
When the Berkeley dream is done you can run
Run
Do you want to fly away?
I would fly with you, Dylan
Who's that ring for, Dylan?
You keep telling all these stories
How your mother just abandoned you
And ran away to Berkeley
And she left you all these records
And that's how you knew about Junior
That amazing lost soul singer
Who's apparently not lost
'Cause he lives next door to your father
Who you never go to visit
'Cause you ran away to Berkeley
Where you picked up this great girlfriend
Was there anything else you neglected
When you seduced me with that music?
La la la, all those sad soul singers
With those songs that are authentic
Did you tell me anything authentic?
Anything at all? You just said
La la la la, I don't go back
La la la la, I don't go back
Don't look back
Go back
Don't look back
Go back
Don't look back
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief
Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief
Big man, little man, who ya gonna be
Will you ever sing your song to -
Burnt umber sparkling pearl
Antique silver brass pearl
Royal gold fluorescent purple
La la, all those forgotten singers
Whose lives "don't really matter"
You said: "Those people's lives don't matter
Only the songs really matter"
Those songs that are "authentic"
Because they sing their pain