didn't have no sweet woman

“There are different kinds of love and each, according to the Fitz, is never like another.” - Rachel’s tumblr

Amen.

I think of you
And of me
And seats covered in red velvet.

The smell of gasoline on men’s hands,
And laughing
How we’ve always laughed.

What does it mean, I know you wonder
When you lie alone at night
To be with someone who loves you.
I wonder the same. And I think I have more to wait for,
But you—you have more than that.

And I think the cobblestones will be wet in Paris
And I think I will be sung to by a million sounds
And I think that every day I will think of you.
Someone may whisper in my ear, but you will be holding my hand, touching each fingertip saying, ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’
And I will listen.

And sometimes, when they drink too much,
Or it rains too hard
Or there are no more Sinatra albums left to listen to
(Which will never happen)
You and I will return to the grass
—or maybe to the pavement—
And we will talk about eternity and boys and yellow dresses.
We will talk about the sun, and about the sand.

And I would spend eternity that way, with just you.

Unless it’s me that’s the coward
But here I poured my naïve and innocent heart
Out to you and you let me
Without a word about how you
Really had those whispers behind my back
And they tore at me when you were nowhere
To be seen.

Don’t you see it? How you tear me apart?
And you don’t care
Because you’re happy.
But I’m not happy and I like it better when
you’re not here.

And I’m alone again

Like a word we don’t say
Talking around it.
You and me and him.
But I don’t care.
The hurt is with you.
The hurt is with me.

I feel that maybe you should let me go
Because I don’t want your company anymore
I enjoy you less than before
And I’d rather I was half way around the world
Than in this room.
But you say you want me when you don’t.
For what reason?

Isn’t that just selfish, too?
I’m doing all the work
Tired of pulling teeth.
Tired of just beginning.

I am Scott.

     and I am Zelda.

You are very important

to me.

My heart is sad and I’m all alone 
My man treats me mean 
I regret the day that I was born 
And that man I ever seen

My happiness is less today 
My heart is broke that’s why I say 
Lord, a good man is hard to find 
You always get another kind

Just when you think that he’s your pal 
You look and find him foolin’ ’round some old gal 
Then you rave, you all crave 
You wanna see him in his grave

So if your man is nice, take my advice 
Hug him in the morning, kiss him ev’ry night 
Give him plenty lovin’, treat your good man right 
‘Cause a good man nowadays sure is hard to find

Oh, a good man is so hard to find 
We always get that roughed old kind 
Just when you think that he’s your pal 
You look and find him hangin’ ’round some old gal

Then you rave, shall you crave 
You wanna see him dead layin’ in his grave

So if your man is nice, take my advice 
Hug him in the morning, kiss him ev’ry night 
Give him plenty mash madam, treat your man right 
‘Cause a good man nowadays sure is hard to find