maybe all i really want is a bass guitarist i can go on tour with.
we’d live on sloppy joes at dodgy diners and count the cash with the drummer every night. you’d have a celtic cross tattooed on your forearm, the result of a mistaken belief that ink could best display your devotion to Jesus. i’d secretly change the lyrics to your songs-in-progress while you sleep and let you wonder where your lyrical genius comes from. i’d throw m&ms at you as you catch them with your tongue when we take a break during precious studio time. the girls at the next gig all fix their eyes on you, but when you look up from your musical bliss, your gaze would be on me.
yes, we’d dream of playing madison square garden and sending the folks at home a cheque we’d be proud of. in the meantime, you’d be my bass guitarist song writer extraordinaire…and that’d be all i ever need.