“Well I’ve had many different girls inside my bed
But only one or two inside my head
These days I cuddle up to my guitar instead
But oh, what I would give, not to stumble but to really fall in love
And I could substitute my singing for the sound of someone sleeping next to me”
“Substitute” Frank Turner
God, I was walking down the street and this song popped in my head. I just fucking remembered. I had this girl in my room. I didn’t know anything about her. I dropped the needle on the record just cause it was already there. We didn’t talk. She just started singing. She was doing a better Janis, than Janis did. Oh my god, I’m just gonna… I’m gonna… I don’t know what I’m gonna do… I was thinking, What the hell does this 18 year old girl know about Janis Joplin? But, I’m only 20, what the hell do I know? I just let her sing. That was it. I never saw her again. That’s all I remember. I mean, I remember everything, but I don’t know who the fuck she was or what she was doing in my room. Not because I haven’t thought about it in so long. I mean way back then. I never knew. I couldn’t figure it out. I didn’t know how I met her, where I met her, nothing. I didn’t go to school with her, it wasn’t at a party, too young to go to bars, none of my friends knew her.
Oh fuck… I just stopped there. I couldn’t figure out what I was doing way down the street. I didn’t need anything. I wasn’t going anywhere. I turned around and came back home. I put on “Summertime” and cried all the way through. I don’t listen to the same music I did back then but I’ve heard the song plenty of times. I like it but it doesn’t get me emotional. Then I put on “Substitute” and that just made it worse. I knew that would happen. At least it slowed my brain. That’s a good thing. I haven’t slept in a couple days. I got a steel band around my head. It’s taking me like two hours to write this fucking thing. I guess it’s pretty funny.