Limoncello

O-o-o Limoncello,
the best potion I know
All the words that you give me
All the words you put in me
O-o-o Limoncello
you're all that makes her mine
She loves me when you're in her
When you leave, I'll never win her

So she's creeping, creeping, back to where her sober heart belongs

Then it's gone she's left without the taste,
or was I dreaming the way her chest collapsed in my face?
So take, one drink lets fake what
things she'll love me for
When she can't taste it

O-o-o Limoncello,
She's hot and cold each week
I'm all hers and she don't know it
when you're here she lets me show it
O-o-o Limoncello,
when you're gone we barely speak
Fuck "friends", she'll always be my lover
friends fuck when they can't find another

So she's creeping, creeping, back to where her sober heart belongs

Then it's gone she's left without the taste
or was I dreaming the way her chest collapsed in my face?
So take, one drink lets fake what
things she'll love me for
When she can't taste it

Now I'm living a lonely life
Limoncello, don't ever leave my side
Soon she'll be a memory and
you'll be mine until you're empty
you're empty,
so kiss me once, don't ever leave

Then it's gone, she's left without the taste
or was I dreaming the war her chest collapsed in my face?
I'm an idiot, idiot, idiot to think that we could have made it
But she loves me too, when she could taste it
She cares but oooo, She loves to fake it
What could I do with the love that it creates?
I'm an idiot, idiot, idiot to think that she could be taken
She'll love me too, when we're naked


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My favorite song on the CD I wrote because it still refreshes the angst, and pain I felt when I fucking wrote it. I'm staring at a bottle of Limoncello on my dresser, and I figured I'd write a blog about the song, and the fucking drink while I'm here. That bittersweet taste gives me a taste of depression and happiness when I taste it. It's insane, how many drinks can actually do that?

It makes me wonder when I'll finally be able to let the pain of my past go. Stop thinking of Sarah, the person it was written for. It's stupid, because the people to whom I've affixed the word "love" don't vivify some romantic scene in my mind, they only vivify the pain I felt. I remember a few good times, but I never affix happiness to them, I only remember them for the aftertaste.

Maybe that's why Limoncello goes so well with this song. Limoncello, sweet as hell, but leaves you with that hangover. It's the same shit with Sarah.

And the problem is our differences our discrepancies was my fault as much as it was hers. She said a million times "Dude, I don't want to lead you on" when she was sober, while a million times drunk she said the opposite. I knew exactly what the fuck would happen, because I had done this before. We would hang out, we would get drunk, we would sleep in the same bed. I wouldn't stop thinking about her until the next time I saw her. And then she kissed me and it was fucking perfect. It was perfection. And that same night we spent 4 hours in her bed just making out. For fucking real bro, no sex, just fucking making out. It was so much passion, so much love that didn't exist...WHAT THE FUCK!?!

This life hasn't been good to me. Everything I've ever invested hope in became a let down. I wonder when my day will finally come. I keep faith in God, and sometimes it's difficult, because shit just seems to constantly get fucking worse. But that doesn't give me reason to stop believing. When my band bailed out on me and I was stuck with a 300 weekly payment, I didn't give a fuck. When my car with 9k left on it got ruined, I didn't blame God. When my parents told me they were kicking me out of my house, I didn't blame God. When I lost my wallet that same week, I didn't blame God. In fact, faith is all I ever had in Him. Shit sucks sometimes, but why point the finger at God?

But is the answer to attempt to become that soulless rockstar? What the fuck do I have to lose? Is life going to get worse than it is now? Am I going to have less friends?

I don't view myself as a catch. I view myself as an accessory. It's such a dysfunctional idea to have about oneself, but it's true. I got shit to offer except loyalty and devotion. And I guess my looks since so many girls wrongly use the word "hot" to describe me. I've got no social status, few friends, and all my money being spent on pursuing a dream that looks like it's dying.

But it's all I've been taught in the past. For the fucking bitch I wrote this song about, Sarah. I was her fucking rebound, and she went right back to that woman-hitting piece of shit as soon as she could. We've talked twice over the last 2 years since. And I couldn't fucking let go. As a songwriter, I can never fucking forget because I'll have to play this song 365 days a year. She'll always be a part of me, as much as I fucking hate it. And it pains me when I think about it. I hope she hears it, and hears my pain in the song, and in my voice, although it's a happy pop rock tune.

And I hope in a year from now I'm playing this at Madison Square Garden in front of 20,000 people and she's sitting at her Queens apartment with that asshole and he's talking about his rap career, and they can be dying slowly instead of living. I asked her a year ago "are you guys getting married?" and her response was "DUDE! Don't even bring that fucking shit up! I ain't ready for marriage!" They've been dating 7 fucking years! How do you NOT know at that point!?!

So yeah this song is bitter. Cause every word of it is true. She only loved me when she was drunk. And that's all I am. A pretty fucking face. Girls love me for my looks, but down inside, I'm fucking useless.

So what do I do with this negative emotion? I harness it for positivity to change shit. Because all is not lost. I'm just losing. It's like the baseball team down 5-0 in the 5th inning, that's me right now. Do I sit and give up? No. In fact, I'm going to fucking give this a shot. I'm going to turn my damn dreams into a reality. I'm going to be a fucking rockstar, forget those fuckers that abandoned me, and take those who stuck with me to the top. I'm going to turn over this music industry. And if I fail, fuck it, at least I did what I had to do.

And so what if I fail? I'll go back to where I am now: Making $600 a week driving buses and finishing school. Who the fuck cares if I'm 32 when that happens? At least I lived my youth to it's fullest. You're young once, and I've wasted too many years. Here I am wasting time on the fucking computer again. I hate this fucking thing. I sit in front of it and I can't leave like a moth to the flame. And what am I accomplishing? Nothing. I'm accomplishing nothing. I'm getting out all my negative emotions.

And yeah, it's me saying a big FUCK YOU to Sarah. And to Jenna. Fuck both of you.

-Jenna for your fucking ability to "fall in love with me" in the summer of 2002 but then forget it all when you went to a prestigious fucking college and realized that me and my rockstar ways weren't good enough for your ivy league lifestyle. Fuck you and fuck Lucky. Fuck you for the sleepless nights, and the first taste of depression I experienced from October 2002 until July 2004. Fuck you for the 5,000 songs I wrote about you, which include LUCKY, and FREE and 6TH ATTEMPT. Fuck you for the fact that it's 2010, and because these songs haven't been released I still think of you, but can barely remember your face, or your taste or a damn thing about you. I just remember that you were. And this album, this band name, is all because of you. Fuck you.

-Sarah for your fucking ability to make me fall in love with you in 2007 when I got back from the Navy. For being every fucking thing I wanted in a woman, but then taking it all away. For those sleepless nights by my side where you wouldn't stop kissing me when I tried sleeping, but woke up and refused to kiss me sober. For those fucked up nights when I stayed at your house and you left me to go fuck your ex, and then come back and tell me how much I meant to you. For my idiocy in believing I could convince you otherwise. FOR MY IDIOCY FOR NEVER FUCKING TELLING YOU SOBER! For going in this half heartedly and believing that the right shit would happen in the end. For letting him take you back instead of giving you reasons why I could have blown this fucker out of the water. Dude, I feel tortured thinking of you. And I can't fucking stop.

And an apology goes out to Jeanine, who was incidentally my rebound for both of these girls.