The only song I know all the words to off by heart and in the correct order is Delilah by Tom Jones. I love that song. It makes me think of psychopaths and fairgrounds.
I saw the light on the night that I passed by her window.
I saw the flickering shadows of love on her blind.
By this point, you've got the impression of a man who just happened to be walking past his birds house, the thought begins to spread, why was he walking past her house at night time anyway?
She was my woman.
As she deceived me, I watched and went out of my mind.
Oh dear! He's obviously stopped to take a good look now. Notice the use of 'was my woman' as in past tense. Perhaps he hasn't got over the split yet? Anyway, he's going out of his mind. What will he do next?
My, My, My Delilah.
Why, Why, Why Delilah.
I could see, that girl was no good for me.
But I was lost like a slave that no man could free.
Now he's just dwelling on the past. No good will come of it. He's already admitted that the relationship had serious issues and that they were in a bad relationship that was no good for either of them. He just seems unable to move on and free himself. The music has started it's merry fairground style in the background. The words are all coming in rhythm with a steady pace.
At break of day when that man drove away I was waiting.
I crossed the street to her house and she opened the door.
She stood there laughing.
I felt the knife in my hands and she laughed no more.
Now it all goes really jerky. After spending a night clearly taking various stimulants and depressants he was still awake and in a frightfull state. All the birdsong in the trees atound was directed at him, taunting him about what his womans been upto. As soon as he see's 'him' leave, he goes over there. However the amount of cheap whiskey he's drunk and the amount of speed he's snorted renders him practically unable to walk. He skids on an empty wine bottle and scrapes th left side of his face on a treee. He stumbles over and falls into the front door. Wondering who it is, she opens the door and sees him standing there leaning up against the wall dripping with sweat, scratches down the side of the face and clothes all torn. "Oh it's you again. Christ, what's happened?" she says with a nrevous laugh, "And what have you got behind your back?"
My, My, My Delilah.
Why, Why Delilah.
A violent waltzer ride, lights flashing, people screaming. Round and round. The movements were quick, brutal and incredibly messy. The sudden rush of adrenaline pulled his brain into focus. Where was he. Was this a bad trip? He'd better get inside. Take her in with him.
So before, they come to break down the door.
Forgive me Delilah, I just couldn't take any more.
In the front room downstairs was the remains of last nights meal. His favourite chinese takeaway and an empty bottle of wine and 2 bottle corks. Why wasn't she moving anymore. Had he really done that, he couldn't have. What happened?
She stood there laughing.
I felt the knife in my hand and she laughed no more.
My, my my Delilah.
Why, why, why Delilah.
He had. He'd freed himself. He wasn't taking the blame for this. It wasn't him. Maybe it was other man. No one would know he'd been there. No, people were banging on the front foor. Peering though the letterbox. Screaming at them to leave him alone he lunged towards them. The knife boucing cleanly of the doorframe and into his neck.At least they won't get the door open now he thought as the world swirled away.
So before they come to break down the door.
Forgive me Delilah, I just couldn't take any more.
Forgive me Delilah, I just couldn't take any more.
I saw the light on the night that I passed by her window.
I saw the flickering shadows of love on her blind.
By this point, you've got the impression of a man who just happened to be walking past his birds house, the thought begins to spread, why was he walking past her house at night time anyway?
She was my woman.
As she deceived me, I watched and went out of my mind.
Oh dear! He's obviously stopped to take a good look now. Notice the use of 'was my woman' as in past tense. Perhaps he hasn't got over the split yet? Anyway, he's going out of his mind. What will he do next?
My, My, My Delilah.
Why, Why, Why Delilah.
I could see, that girl was no good for me.
But I was lost like a slave that no man could free.
Now he's just dwelling on the past. No good will come of it. He's already admitted that the relationship had serious issues and that they were in a bad relationship that was no good for either of them. He just seems unable to move on and free himself. The music has started it's merry fairground style in the background. The words are all coming in rhythm with a steady pace.
At break of day when that man drove away I was waiting.
I crossed the street to her house and she opened the door.
She stood there laughing.
I felt the knife in my hands and she laughed no more.
Now it all goes really jerky. After spending a night clearly taking various stimulants and depressants he was still awake and in a frightfull state. All the birdsong in the trees atound was directed at him, taunting him about what his womans been upto. As soon as he see's 'him' leave, he goes over there. However the amount of cheap whiskey he's drunk and the amount of speed he's snorted renders him practically unable to walk. He skids on an empty wine bottle and scrapes th left side of his face on a treee. He stumbles over and falls into the front door. Wondering who it is, she opens the door and sees him standing there leaning up against the wall dripping with sweat, scratches down the side of the face and clothes all torn. "Oh it's you again. Christ, what's happened?" she says with a nrevous laugh, "And what have you got behind your back?"
My, My, My Delilah.
Why, Why Delilah.
A violent waltzer ride, lights flashing, people screaming. Round and round. The movements were quick, brutal and incredibly messy. The sudden rush of adrenaline pulled his brain into focus. Where was he. Was this a bad trip? He'd better get inside. Take her in with him.
So before, they come to break down the door.
Forgive me Delilah, I just couldn't take any more.
In the front room downstairs was the remains of last nights meal. His favourite chinese takeaway and an empty bottle of wine and 2 bottle corks. Why wasn't she moving anymore. Had he really done that, he couldn't have. What happened?
She stood there laughing.
I felt the knife in my hand and she laughed no more.
My, my my Delilah.
Why, why, why Delilah.
He had. He'd freed himself. He wasn't taking the blame for this. It wasn't him. Maybe it was other man. No one would know he'd been there. No, people were banging on the front foor. Peering though the letterbox. Screaming at them to leave him alone he lunged towards them. The knife boucing cleanly of the doorframe and into his neck.At least they won't get the door open now he thought as the world swirled away.
So before they come to break down the door.
Forgive me Delilah, I just couldn't take any more.
Forgive me Delilah, I just couldn't take any more.