I have to come clean. In light of the recent attention shed on a certain book that has been ripped into a million tiny shreds, I have come to reconsider the writings I have written over a lifetime. Not only have I passed off certain versifications as true, but sometimes in earnest nocturnal conversation -- or even on public broadcasts -- I have confided that these ragtag couplets truly are emissions from my soul.
But no more. The truth is that I have tampered with certain events and situations to render them more conveniently squished into song. I have taken the truth, bent it like a wire hanger, and used it to whack my tiny tribe of fans square on the ass.
Thus it is with great shame that I must confess a horrible confession.
It didn't really happen on 31st Avenue.
It was Broadway, one block over.
'31st Avenue' just sounded better.
Please.
Forgive.
Me.
5 comments:
I feel betrayed.
I think Rebecca Turner's "13th Street" really took place on 21st St.
Oh damn; does this mean I'm gonna have to issue an apology for like, every song I've ever written? They're all packed with lies from beginning to end.
Rebecca, does that mean "Land of my Baby" was not literally about a baby????
I read somewhere that now Bob Dylan isn't positiveit was 4th Street...
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