Oh, Red Siren, remember MySpace? Yeah, me neither. But it was about a decade ago now that I found myself newly single right when dating online was coming into its own and flirting with women on MySpace was a thing. It seemed like a good idea at the time. What could be more perfect than a world where you could browse through a virtual catalog of women in your area without ever having to actually meet any of them? I’d already been tempted by the whole idea back when you had to actually have an honest-to-goodness paper catalog of Russian women. But now you just had to click a couple buttons and you could see thousands of women (for free!) who were all in your area and all as presumably desperate as you were. I tried them all, Red Siren. OKCupid, plenty of fish, Match.com, eharmony, and Craigslist; I’m sure I still have profiles floating around on all of them.
If you would have told me when I was recording this song off the radio that there would come a time when I could send messages to pretty girls all over the world and even date them, I would have been a lot less depressed about being a teenager if I knew such a world awaited me. But there’s a reason someone came up with the phrase “too good to be true”.
Don’t get me wrong, Red Siren, I enjoyed myself. But I also didn’t enjoy myself just as much if not more. Besides all those agonizing hours I spent trying to get my profile just right, it took me much longer than it should have to realize that all of these amazing women were more than just pretty pictures and perfect answers to profile questions. They had fears and hang-ups and quirks and annoying traits. Like me. Yeah. They were real people, Red Siren, not just my fantasy of the sexiest or most romantic or cutest or most exotic or whatever I was panging for on whatever given day.
Thankfully, I emerged from all of that craziness, scathed but relatively intact and ended up marrying the perfect woman, who I fell in love with without the benefit of a dating site. I’m so old-fashioned.
But there’s a part of me that wonders what kind of stories I’d have to tell and what kind of women I’d have met if instead of spending all that time trying to write the perfect summary of myself on all those dating profiles, if I’d instead just written out the lyrics to this song. . .
“One Good Lover”
<awesome Red Siren jam>
You
With the lie on your face
Told me that no one
Had taken my place, and I
Loved you right from the start
Now you found someone
Who’s stolen your heart so
I must run
Find a place ta hide
Take my love
Hold it deep inside
Find someone
Who can help me to forget the pain
And how you’re to blame
Just give me one good lover
We’ll take care of each other
I want one good lover, every day, every night
He was always (he was always)
He was always miiiine
You
With the lie in your heart
Ya told me that no one
Could break us apart, but I
See those promises mean
For what they were there for
And what you have gained
Now I must run
Find a place ta hide
Take my love
Hold it deep inside
Find someone
Who can help me to forget the pain, and baby, you’re to blame
Now give me one good lover
We’ll take care of each other
I want one good lover for the rest of my life
I never scream, I never fight, I want
One good lover
We’ll take care of each other
I want one good lover, every day, every night
He was always (he was always)
He was always miiine
I know you won’t believe a word I tell yooou
But he’ll look me in the eye and I’ll know it right away (heeeeeeeeyeah)
<awesome Red Siren jam>
One good lover
We’ll take care of each other
I want one good lover for the rest of my life
Never scream, I never fight, I want one good lover (say one good lover)
We’ll take care of each other
I want one good lover, every day, every night
He was always (he was always)
He was always miiine
One good lover (I said one good lover)
We’ll take care of each other
I want one good lover for the rest of my life
Never scream, I never fight, I want one good lover (say one good lover)
We’ll take care of each other
I want one good lover, every day, every night
Mixed Tape Masterpiece 