Special
thanks to the window booth at the Hudson Diner, where we wrote
at least 30 of the 54 coffee stained drafts.
You
Think You Know Someone
Margolis, Rosler
new
lovers always seem to have this conversation
lets take turns telling of the others in our past
we could talk until the dawn and measure up our passion
comparing all the reasons that it didnt last
heres a box of letters to a certain girl who haunts me
my brave attempt to save a disillusioned love
I never sent them after all, but you can read them
or let me briefly sum the essence of it up
you think you
know someone
but do you ever
really know someone?
can you follow
where their true heart runs
when that careful
voice inside of you
whispers, hide
your heart from view
you think you
know someone
my dear dont look so sad, she left me with a lesson
always wear a charming smile but keep things to yourself
wasnt it you who said that life is just a party
I thought thats why we both would get along so well
well
you think you
know someone
like youve
never known just anyone
or is your window
to their soul
just your imagination
blinding you
and once again
youre lonely and confused
you think you
know someone
idle talk just numbs my ears
like elevator banter
yes its cold outside
well, Ive got to get off here
but she shared my bed for all these many years
you think you
know someone
cause you
make love and you hold someone
but when all
is said and done
in the darkness
I can see
I really dont
know anyone at all
most of all
me
you think you
know someone
Arranged & conducted by John Margolis with Don Rosler
Romero Lubambo classical guitar
Mary Ann McSweeney string bass
Hector Del Curto bandoneon
Charles Wizen violin
John Margolis vocal, piano & keyboards
Recorded at Studio 900, NY
Engineer Joe Johnson; and Pawnee Rock
Mixed by John Margolis & Dave Wittman