If You Really Knew Me

It’s funny to me how people will assume one song represents how a songwriter feels all the time. This song is dark (“negative”) because I was in a dark mood the day I wrote it. That doesn’t mean I’m in a dark mood all day every day! On the contrary, I put my negative emotions into a song and that tends to put an end to that feeling. It’s cathartic. The song takes on a life of its own and I am free to move on to other things.

This time, instead of just putting all the lyrics here, I thought I’d pick out a few verses and offer an explanation of where they came from. In the first verse, after being told by someone that I’m a horrible human being, I decided yes, I’ll take on all the sins of the world. Sue me; kill me; it was all my fault. Who did I kill? Take your pick. Specifically, I chose to take on the ridiculous notion that Yoko Ono broke up The Beatles (yes, there are still idiots out there who believe it) by saying “no, it was me, I did it!” The gun? Maybe the one that shot Kennedy…or John Lennon. Lock me up.

In the second verse, I’m obviously talking about my parents. There was a story my mother used to tell me, by way of explaining her ongoing aloofness toward me, that when I was 3 or 4, she would try to hold my hand while crossing the street and I would pull it away, wanting, I suppose, to be a big kid who didn’t need to hold his mommy’s hand. She was offended by this and it stuck in her craw for years. I was a feisty child but my desire for independence and growth was constantly squashed by my parents, who wanted me to be meek and obedient and not stand out.

The part about smiling is an ongoing battle with people continually coaxing me to smile in photos; fake smiles on me always look…well, fake. So I usually refuse, and get criticized for it. When I was 11 or so, my parents took us all to a photo studio for a rare family photo. I was seated between my parents, with my brother and sister standing behind, dutifully putting one hand on each of my parents’ shoulders. The photographer tried to get everyone to smile by squeaking a little rubber ducky. He took many shots but, because I thought he was a dork, the best they ever got out of me was a smirk. That smirky portrait hung on my parents’ wall for many years, a constant reminder of my unwillingness to cooperate.

Other verses deal with good vs. evil; what makes someone “good”? Is the pedophile priest good because he’s a priest? Is the thief who stole medicine for his sick child “bad” because he’s a thief? The problem is that people try to pin you down, put you in a box, come to some conclusion about you, to decide if they want to be your friend or not. People often jump to conclusions about me, deciding I’m sweet because I did something nice, then being shocked to hear me say something awful. Or they hear that awful thing and decide I’m a “bad” person, someone to be shunned. Like the bridge says “you think you’ve got me figured out…for you.” But I’m still working on figuring out which parts of me are good, bad, permanent, momentary, etc., so maybe you’re right or maybe you’re dead wrong. Then, as verse 5 says, they think I need fixing so they prescribe “treatments”: get a guru, read this book. Or take a pill, or take a trip around the world. But, as verse 4 says, “I know what I am, but you don’t.” So, work on yourself; I’m not your project. As I said in a previous song, “I no longer agree” (with your diagnosis of me). Take me as I am, or fuck off.

Music & Lyrics ©2024 Alan Goldin.
All vocals and instruments by Alan Goldin.
Any reference to persons alive or dead
is not a coincidence.