Totally excited about the new Paula Cole CD, "Courage,"
out today. Despite a few lyrical cringes, I am really enjoying it. Paula’s been one of my favorite artists since I picked up her debut, "Harbinger" in 1995. So many of the songs from that CD are still among my most listened. "Bethlehem," "I Am So Ordinary," and "Happy Home" are songs so perfect, scary-honest and very inspiring to me as a songwriter.
I actually also really enjoyed her last studio CD, "Amen." A little self-indulgent, yes, but I never tire of listening to it… I used to play it over and over in my apt. on Cleveland Avenue in New Orleans and hearing it today always takes me back to sitting on my living room floor, comfy pillow, glass of wine, someone new, and the CD on repeat.
If you’re new to Paula, check out her 2006 greatest hits CD, "Postcards from East Oceanside."
Bethlehem
Pulling on the apron strings, looking up
Standing on the chair to be grown up
I feel so little, I need my pillow
I hate the time, I hate the clock
I want to be a dog or I want to be a rock
Sunday’s pancakes, Miss Mary Mack
Color Polariods show my heart attack
In my second-hand pants and dusty shoes
The day that the playground laughed at my shoes
It’s my birthday next week and what I want please
Is to turn on the heat so the fish won’t freeze
The fish in the tank froze and died last week
Oh I want to be a dog or I want to be a leaf
Quarry miners, fishermen
In my town of Bethlehem
Picket fences, church at ten
No star above my Bethlehem
Now I’m only 16 and I think I have an ulcer
I’m hiding my sex behind a dirty sweatshirt
I’ve lost five pounds these past few days
Trying to be class president and get straight A’s,
well, Who gives a shit about that anyway?
I want to be a dog or a lump of clay
Chorus
Still
I’m tired of standing still
Tired of living
still
Everyday I dream of leaving
Everybody’s talking about Becky’s bust
The boys on the basketball team just f*ck
The same ten girls, who don’t know who they are
They’re looking for some comfort in the back of a car
The six-packs of beer, the locker room jeers
I don’t want to be me, I don’t want to be here
Chorus
Red brick schoolhouse
dead end dirt roads, daffodils
No star above my Bethlehem
I want to be a dog or I want to be a rock
I don’t want to be me
I don’t want to be here in Bethlehem
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