Thinking Of You

(thoughts from June 7, 2010)

Comparisons are easily done
Once you’ve had a taste of perfection
Like an apple hanging from a tree
I picked the ripest one, I still got the seed

You said move on, where do I go?
I guess second best is all I will know

‘Cause when I’m with him I am thinking of you
(Thinking of you, thinking of you)
Thinking of you, what you would do
If you were the one who was spending the night
(Spending the night, spending the night)
Oh, I wish that I was looking into your eyes

You’re like an Indian Summer in the middle of winter
Like a hard candy with a surprise center
How do I get better once I’ve had the best?
You said there’s tons of fish in the water, so the waters I will test

He kissed my lips, I taste your mouth, oh!
(Taste your mouth)
He pulled me in, I was disgusted with myself

‘Cause when I’m with him I am thinking of you
(Thinking of you, thinking of you)
Thinking of you, what you would do
If you were the one who was spending the night
(Spending the night, spending the night)
Oh, I wish that I was looking into

You’re the best, and yes, I do regret
How I could let myself let you go
Now, now the lesson’s learned
I touched it, I was burned
Oh, I think you should know!

‘Cause when I’m with him I am thinking of you
(Thinking of you, thinking of you)
Thinking of you, what you would do
If you were the one who was spending the night

(Spending the night, spending the night)
Oh, I wish that I was looking into your, your eyes
Looking into your eyes, looking into your eyes

Oh, won’t you walk through?
And bust in the door and take me away?
Oh, no more mistakes
‘Cause in your eyes I’d like to stay, stay

Advertisements

Almost Lover

Your fingertips across my skin
The palm trees swaying in the wind
Images

You sang me Spanish lullabies
The sweetest sadness in your eyes
Clever trick

I never want to see you unhappy
I thought you’d want the same for me

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I’m trying not to think about you
Can’t you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

We walked along a crowded street
You took my hand
and danced with me
Images

And when you left you kissed my lips
You told me you would never let forget these images, no

I never want to see you unhappy
I thought you’d want the same for me

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I’m trying not to think about you
Can’t you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance

My back is turned on you
Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind
So you’re gone and I’m haunted
And I bet you are just fine
Did I make it that easy
To walk right in and out of my life?

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I’m trying not to think about you
Can’t you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance

My back is turned on you
Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

Cats Now and Forever

I wish to avoid the obvious pitfalls of reviewing a musical. I haven’t seen much, save for Glee, so I will limit my thought to what is evident. And please forgive me if I can’t provide much – you are always welcome not to continue.

The fuzz about Cats is over-rated for the middle-class. Unlike Miss Saigon’s ticket price (I still have the poster so I can recall just by looking), it is not so reasonable. For Cats, the truth is, the middle class can do without. It is a spectacular exhibition of song and dance (love the tap) enmeshed by several excerpts of different cats. So yes, we are not following one story here; we are watching several snippets of each characters. All of which are simply spectacular. For the middle-class it is not necessary but for the rich, this is loose change.

Cats is Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical demonstration of T.S. Elliots Old Possums Book Of Practical Cats. It talks about the Jellicle Cats and their annual Ball of which one cat is chosen to be reborn. The spectacle moves from one cat’s story-telling to another.

Like any theatre rule, none of us were allowed flash photography. However, technology has allowed us to circumvent this rule, thanks to my multi-tasking mobile phone. Although I would not choose this over my EOS 7D, it still worked its purpose. I stole shots and got reprimanded once but still snapped-away towards the end of the second act. I must point out that this does not mean I allow such behaviour, let’s just say it was much too difficult to follow specially when it’s all you have to show for as a proof that you were actually there.

Though my seat price of P6000 plus didn’t brought me to a roaring standing ovation, something I freely gave to Miss Saigon and refused to sit-down for several minutes, I was glad to have seen Ms. Lea Salonga do what she does best. She really has a thunderous command when she starts singing, something she was not shy giving the song “Memory”. I made a point to reserve a date that guarantees I won’t be watching her understudy.

It was colourful, it was fabulous, the voices superb, the bodies under the tights are gorgeous and the dancing, marvellous. I wish to see more Broadway shows here in my country and I wish that the next won’t take long.

Shattered

In a way, I need a change
From this burnout scene
Another time, another town
Another everything
But it’s always back to you

Stumble out, in the night
From the pouring rain
Made the block, sat and thought
There’s more I need
It’s always back to you

But I’m good without ya
Yeah, I’m good without you
Yeah, yeah, yeah

How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can’t define what I’m after
I always turn the car around
Give me a break let me make my own pattern
All that it takes is some time but I’m shattered
I always turn the car around

I had no idea that the night
Would take so damn long

Took it out, on the street
While the rain still falls
Push me back to you

But I’m good without ya
Yeah, I’m good without you
Yeah, yeah, yeah

How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can’t define what I’m after
I always turn the car around
Give me a break let me make my own pattern
All that it takes is some time but I’m shattered
I always turn the car around

Give it up, give it up, baby
Give it up, give it up, now
Now

How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can’t define what I’m after
I always turn the car around
All that I feel is the realness I’m faking
Taking my time but it’s time that I’m wasting
Always turn the car around

How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can’t define what I’m after
I always turn the car around

Don’t wanna turn that car around
I gotta turn this thing around