Once Upon a Time (or, why I am the way I am)
	Slow Like Honey -Fiona Apple- You moved like honey in my dream last night Yeah, some old fires were burning You came near to me and you endeared to me But you couldn't quite discern me Does that scare you? I'll let you run away But your heart will not oblige you You'll remember melike a melody Yeah, I'll haunt the world inside you And my big secret--Gonna win you over Slow like honey, heavy with mood I'll let you see me, I'll covet your regard I'll invade your demeanor And you'll yield to me like a scent in the breeze And you'll wonder what it is about me It's my big secret--Keeping you coming slow like honey, heavy with mood Though dreams can be deveiving Like faces are to hearts They serve for sweet relieving When fantasy and reality lie too far apart So I stretch myself across, like a bridge And I pull you to the edge And stand there waiting Trying to attain The end to satisfy the story Shall I release you? Must I release you? As I rise to meet my glory But my big secret Gonna hover over your life Gonna keep you reaching When I'm gone like yesterday When I'm high like heaven When I'm strong like music 'Cuz I'm slow like honey, and Heavy with mood
						I suppose you're wondering why I am the way I am, though why you would be so nosy, I have no idea. I guess it's not that important, so I have nothing to gain from keeping it secret. I do so love secrets, don't you? Sometimes I love to collect them and write them in a little book, but the most important ones I don't dare even share with my little book, but I'm getting off the subject again aren't I? I guess it all started before I was born, my mommy met my daddy at a rock concert, I quite sure that drugs were involved, but drugs or not, I "became" that night in an old beat up van. Everyone's always saying that they want a rock and roll father, but let me tell you, it's not what it's cracked up to be. I have seen my father since, I think he did a reunion tour last year. He really loved the way I sing, in fact he still hums some of my tunes when he's not highly medicated. Appparently, ever since that night, he hears voices in his head, oh well, must have been all those drugs in the seventies. Maybe the love of music is genetic, I've always loved to write and sing it, there's something very haunting about an unfinished song. Genetic or not, I was in love, it does sounds silly, in love with just a melody, but you show me a lover that's just as consistent, believe me, I've looked. So I'm sure you're wondering, hey, if she loved music so much, why isn't she a music major? Trust me, you wouldn't be the first to ask, and I'll do the same thing I've done to everyone else, laugh ar you.