What Should I Have Done?
What should I have done?
Shamed to say I didn’t know
We saw you run through the hotel lobby
Head down, distressed and angry
My first thought was, there goes my night
On the town with friends from work
You didn’t say, you wouldn’t, couldn’t
But your day was done, the rodeo ridden
You’d sing no more, going home
We talked all night, weed delivered
In the calm of a Manhattan dawn
You told your tale of commercial pressure
And a predatory producer
Write a hit, they said and do it fast
Our budget for this man won’t last
You were tough, alone, you always said
But a posse of men and a factotum shouting
Made you a girl on your own, surrounded.
We both went shopping, late that morning
The crying and sadness ended
Lawyers called, the phone kept ringing
First hers, then mine, we turned them off,
sought a place to feed us
Over lunch you made a call
You’d sing again if they’d agree
To limit contact with the offending grandee
The only other person there was me
We caught a cab to the Midtown studio
The tone subdued, the light, funereal
We joked, we chatted, smoked a doobie
Then played back last night’s hooley
A half written tune about dancing lessons
you sang, you cried, it took all day
I felt trapped and you looked grateful
The producer never said a word
you called his bluff, now he’s withdrawn
You thanked me then, I felt undone
the record was made, release date decided
you sang the songs, the promo tour
the producer’s name was never mentioned
You told me once this business killed you
but singing was always the reason you did it
but I’m shamed to say I did nothing
hamstrung by the power of silence
my inadequate defence was ignorance.


Postcard from a Pigeon
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