Lyrics

Now my calendar’s complete

Posted on by brucehhackett

Gathering classic rock songs that share a common subject has been a pastime of mine since the early 1970s when I bought my first cassette tape deck.

Songs about food, cars, sex. Songs about countries, cities, streets. Songs about girls’ names, boys’ names, celebrities. My playlists on Spotify now have well over 100 themes represented.

Having recently explored songs in the rock music vault having to do with the signs of the zodiac, I realized I’d never put together a similar playlist of songs about the months of the year. Much like a list I compiled several years ago about days of the week — when I found there were way more choices for Saturday or Sunday than, say, Wednesday — I found some months are very well represented (September, December) while others have maybe one or two decent selections (March, October).

I’ve selected an eclectic dozen to commemorate each of the twelve months of the year, and I’ve also included another two dozen “honorable mentions to beef up that list. Feel free to listen along as you read.

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“January Stars,” Sting, 1993

The former bassist/vocalist of The Police went on quite a tear when he embarked on a solo career in 1985. The LPs “The Dream of the Blue Turtles” (1985), “Nothing But the Sun” (1987), “The Soul Cages” (1991) and especially “Ten Summoner’s Tales” (1993) were packed with compelling music that charted high on US album charts and produced ten Top 20 singles here. During sessions for “Summoner,” Sting wrote a song that he recorded twice with two completely different titles and lyrics. “Everybody Laughed But You” ended up on the LP, but the alternate version, entitled “January Stars,” appeared only on the “maxi-single” release with the big hit “If I Ever Lose My Faith in You.” It’s arguably a better set of lyrics and seemed an appropriate choice to feature as my “January” representative to the playlist: “And as I watched the mercury, and thought about the prophecy, /A new moon and an early thaw, /I watched the door for you, /January stars, January stars came true…”

“February Stars,” Foo Fighters, 1997

I have enormous respect for Dave Grohl, who played drums behind Kurt Cobain in Nirvana and then, in the wake of Cobain’s suicide, formed Foo Fighters, one of the most popular bands of the past quarter-century. Amazingly, he quickly broadened his talents from drums to become his new band’s guitarist, singer and chief songwriter as well. The first Foo Fighters release in 1995 was essentially a Grohl solo affair, but 1997’s “The Colour and The Shape” was the first true group effort, which reached the Top 10 and went multi-platinum, thanks to “Everlong,” “Monkey Wrench” and “My Hero.” Described at the time of its release as “alternative post-grunge rock,” the album featured some strong songwriting like “February Stars,” a track Grohl wrote “about just hanging on by your fingertips and hoping you don’t slip and fall.” It’s about a relationship that’s dwindling away, despite efforts to hang on to it, finally concluding that it just won’t last: “I’m hanging on here until I’m gone, /Right where I belong, just hanging on, /February stars, floating in the dark, /Temporary scars, February stars…”

“March, the Mad Scientist,” Jethro Tull, 1976

Almost from the beginning, Tull frontman Ian Anderson typically wrote more songs than would fit on whatever album the band was in the process of recording. By 1976, he had compiled a number of finished tracks, several of which had a Christmastime flavor to them. “I’ve always enjoyed the Yuletide season and have written often about it,” Anderson said. He decided to release an EP in England (though not in the US, where EPs were rarely issued) that gathered four holiday-related songs: “Ring Out, Solstice Bells” (which also appeared on the “Songs From the Wood” album a couple months later), “Christmas Song” (first released back in 1969), “Pan Dance” and “March, the Mad Scientist.” The latter, clocking in at a brief 1:48, focuses on the post-Christmas months: “April is summer-bound, and February’s blue, /But March, the mad scientist, brings a new change in ever-dancing colours…”

“April Come She Will,” Simon and Garfunkel, 1966

When bass, drums and electric guitar were grafted onto the original acoustic recording of “The Sound of Silence” and it became a #1 hit in early 1966, Simon and Garfunkel hurried into the studio to record the wistful songs Simon had written while living in London (including “I Am a Rock,” “Kathy’s Song,” “Richard Cory” and “April Come She Will”) and rush-released the LP “Sounds of Silence.” When director Mike Nichols chose to prominently use several Simon and Garfunkel songs in the soundtrack of “The Graduate,” in 1967, “April Come She Will” was among them because Nichols related to the lyrics about the sad arc of an affair that runs its course in six months, much like the tryst depicted in the film: “April, come she will… /May, she will stay… /June, she’ll change her tune… /July, she will fly… /August. die she must… /September I’ll remember…”

“Then Came the Last Days of May,” Blue Oyster Cult, 1972

Donald Roeser, Blue Oyster Cult’s guitarist/singer who went by the stage name Buck Dharma, wrote this harrowing tale of a drug deal gone bad that appears on the group’s 1972 self-titled debut LP. He recalls, “Back in 1969, the band was playing dances at Stony Brook University on Long Island.  Three students from the college had gone out to Tucson, Arizona, at the end of May to buy some bulk marijuana for resale. It turned out the guys they were meeting there never intended to sell them any pot. They just wanted to drive them out to the desert, steal their money and shoot them, which they did, although one kid managed to survive. I wrote the lyrics from the newspaper accounts”: “It wasn’t until the car suddenly stopped in the middle of a cold and barren plain, /And the other guy turned and spilled three boys’ blood, /Did they know a trap had been laid?…” The song was a regular part of the band’s in-concert set list for many years

“Atlanta June,” Pablo Cruise, 1977

This San Francisco-based band enjoyed some decent chart success in the late ’70s with a pair of albums (1977’s “A Place in the Sun” and 1978’s “Worlds Away) and a handful of singles (“Whatcha Gonna Do?” “Love Will Find a Way,” “I Go to Rio”). These days, they’re lumped in with what is derisively known as “yacht rock,” but for my money, they offered feel-good music professionally executed, and I still enjoy hearing them from time to time. There’s a deep track on “A Place in the Sun” called “Atlanta June” that I think deserves your attention, even though it’s about a woman named June rather than the month of June: “Come here baby and sit down with me, I got something on my mind, /And I’ve got to tell you how I feel ’cause I know I’ll soon be gone, /Atlanta, Atlanta June, I’ll be leaving you and Georgia soon, /But someday maybe I’ll find a way back to you, Atlanta June…”

“Black Day in July,” Gordon Lightfoot, 1968

An escalating conflict between police and Black residents of Detroit that began on July 23, 1967, was the subject of Lightfoot’s powerful, poignant song. In seven verses, he tells of the violence and government response that resulted in the deadliest civil disturbance in US history: “Motor City madness has touched the countryside, /And the people rise in anger and the streets begin to fill, /And there’s gunfire from the rooftops and the blood begins to spill, /Black Day in July…” Lightfoot wasn’t yet a big name in the US but the song, which appeared on his 1968 “Did She Mention My Name?” LP, was nonetheless banned from many radio stations. It was by far Lightfoot’s most vivid protest song, with prominent percussion and dominant minor chords that symbolized the tension of the events.

“First Day in August,” Carole King, 1972

One of the greatest songwriters of the 1960s, King fed infectious tunes to her then-husband lyricist Gerry Goffin, and together they cranked out dozens of songs for other artists to turn into big hits. Then in 1971, her “Tapestry” album made her the featured recording artist and became one of the best-selling albums of all time. The half-dozen albums that came after that masterpiece never quite measured up, but individual songs like “Been to Canaan,” “Sweet Seasons,” “Bitter With the Sweet” and “Jazzman” were very worthy additions to her repertoire. From her 1972 LP “Rhymes and Reasons” is a little forgotten gem called “First Day in August,” an intimate ballad that celebrates a loving relationship with these tender lyrics: “On the first day in August, I want to wake up by your side, /After sleeping with you on the last night in July, /In the morning, we’ll catch the sun rising, /And we’ll chase it from the mountains to the bottom of the sea…”

“September,” Earth, Wind and Fire, 1978

I deliberated a while about which of the many songs about September that turned up in my search would be the one I would feature here. I’ve always been partial to the old standard, “September in the Rain,” as sung by Frank Sinatra in 1961, or even “See You in September” by the sunshine-pop group The Happenings in 1966. But I pretty much had to go with the EW&F hit, which reached #6 in 1978 as the new single included on the group’s “Best Of, Vol. 1” LP. The infectious R&B tune was written by Maurice White and his occasional collaborator Alley Willis, who initially objected to White’s memorable “ba-dee-ya” nonsense lyric in the chorus, “but he taught me an important lesson about not letting the lyric get in the way of a great groove.” The significance of the 21st of September, said White’s wife, was it was the original due date of their son: “Our hearts were ringing in the key that our souls were singing as we danced in the night, /Remember how the stars stole the night away, /Ba-dee-ya, say do you remember, /Ba-dee-ya, dancing in September, /Ba-dee-ya, never was a cloudy day…”

“October Road,” James Taylor, 2002

After cranking out classic albums every year through the 1970s, and every two or three years in the ’80s and ’90s, Taylor started experiencing writer’s block by the 2000s. Indeed, he has released only two albums of new material in the past 25 years, and to my ears, they weren’t quite as consistent as we’ve come to expect from this talented tunesmith. The title track from his 2002 LP “October Road” has a fine country-funk arrangement going that sets it a notch higher than the album’s other tracks. Its lyrics do a marvelous job of capturing his time-honored image of “walking on a country road,” only this time as soothing medicine for a worn-out psyche damaged from too much fame and travel: “I got so low down, fed up, my God, I could hardly move, /Won’t you come on, my brother, get on up and help me find my groove, /Keep me walking, October road, /Keep me walking in the sunshine, yeah, little friend of mine, October road…”

“November Rain,” Guns ‘n Roses, 1991

While I’ve never been much of a fan of Guns ‘n Roses, it’s impossible to deny the majestic sweep of this tour de force from their “Use Your Illusion I” album. Like other epic rock songs of its era, “November Rain” uses mellower melodic passages offset by screaming guitar sections to create compelling drama over its nine-minute length. Significantly, it’s one of the longest songs to ever reach the Top Five of the US Top 40 pop chart. “We call it ‘the Layla song’,” joked guitarist Slash, referencing a similarly constructed rock song with a long, instrumental second part. Lead singer Axl Rose describes how a rainy day in the eleventh month can be so unpleasant: “When I look into your eyes, I can see a love restrained, /But, darlin’, when I hold you, don’t you know I feel the same? /’Cause nothing lasts forever, and we both know hearts can change, /And it’s hard to hold a candle in the cold November rain…”

“December 1963 (Oh What a Night),” The Four Seasons, 1975

Bob Gaudio, longtime member of The Four Seasons and a primary songwriter for them, said this song’s lyrics originally focused on December 5, 1933, the day that Prohibition was repealed, but his wife suggested he change the focus to December of 1963, when the two first met. “It was more in line with the kind of song The Four Seasons typically sang,” he said, “and it ended up being a good decision.” The group hadn’t had a Top Ten hit since 1967, and the release of their “Who Loves You” album in 1975 put them back on the charts in a big way, first with the title song (which peaked at #3) and then “December 1963,” which held the #1 slot for three weeks in early 1976: “Oh, what a night, late December, back in ’63, /What a very special time for me, as I remember, what a night, /Oh, what a night, you know, I didn’t even know her name, /But I was never gonna be the same, what a lady, what a night…”

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Honorable mentions:

“January,” Pilot, 1975; “January Friend,” Goo Goo Dolls, 1998; “February Seven,” Avett Brothers, 2012; “Waters of March,” Art Garfunkel, 1975; “Sometimes It Snows in April,” Prince, 1986; “Pieces of April,” Three Dog Night, 1972; “First of May,” James Taylor, 1988; “First of May,” The Bee Gees, 1968; “June Hymn,” The Decemberists, 2011; “July Morning,” Uriah Heep, 1971; “August,” Taylor Swift, 2020; “See You in September,” The Happenings, 1966; “September Grass,” James Taylor, 2002; “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” Green Day, 2004; “September Morn,” Neil Diamond, 1979; “September in the Rain,” Frank Sinatra, 1961; “October,” U2, 1981; “November Spawned a Monster,” Morrissey, 1990; “Denouncing November,” The Avett Brothers, 2006; “December,” Collective Soul, 1995; “A Long December,” Counting Crows, 1996; “December,” Norah Jones, 2009; “December Snow,” Moody Blues, 2003.

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Born under a bad sign

Posted on by brucehhackett

“Capricorn, Scorpio, /Taurus, Gemini, Virgo, Cancer, /Pisces, Leo, Libra, Aries, /Aquarius, Sagittarius… /No matter what sign you are, /You’re gonna be mine, /Can’t let astrology chart our destiny…”

These lyrics to a 1969 tune by Diana Ross and The Supremes called “No Matter What Sign You Are” reinforce my basic viewpoint about astrology: It’s interesting to contemplate, but it isn’t science.

My natural skepticism has kept my interest in astrology at arm’s length since I first encountered it as a teen. Initially, I was fascinated by the notion that everybody born in the same 30-day period — say, mid-March to mid-April, like I was — essentially share the same personality traits, strengths and weaknesses. Eventually, I found it all just too far-fetched, too generalized. The belief that there are only a dozen different types of personalities for billions of people just doesn’t make sense to me.

Historically, astrology claimed the ability to predict human behavior and earthly events based on the position of celestial objects during a given calendar year. By the 19th Century, researchers exposed it as pseudoscience with no scientific validity. Still, there are areas of the world today where astrology is enthusiastically embraced, including the U.S., where thousands of books have been published on the subject.

Among those who do so are the world’s artists — poets, painters, novelists, musicians. Astrology has inspired so much literature, fine art, and music, and I figured I’d find plenty of examples of popular songs about astrological signs in the annals of classic rock of the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s. Curiously, this was not the case. I had to broaden my search to include material from more recent decades and from other musical genres just to find enough suitable tracks to represent each of the 12 signs of the zodiac for the Spotify playlist that you’ll find at the end of this blog entry.

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“Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In,” The 5th Dimension, 1969

Any discussion of songs about the zodiac signs pretty much has to begin with this enormous hit that dominated the airwaves in the spring of 1969. The two songs that form the medley were written in 1967 for the groundbreaking Broadway play “Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical,” which made daring observations about the hippie counterculture and sexual revolution of the Sixties. A key message was based on the notion that the universe was about to enter the next astrological age — the age of Aquarius, marked by group consciousness and humanitarianism: “When the moon is in the Seventh House, and Jupiter aligns with Mars, /Then peace will guide the planets, and love will steer the stars, /This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius…” Upon seeing the show, Billy Davis of The 5th Dimension insisted that the band should record “Aquarius,” but producer Bones Howe felt it was only a song fragment and got the idea to create a medley with a few bars from another song in the show (“The Flesh Failures”) that repeated the words “let the sunshine in.” Although the two song fragments are in different keys and tempos, Howe “jammed them together like two trains,” and the result was a dramatic track that sat at #1 on US pop charts for six weeks.

“Scorpios,” Adam and The Ants, 1981

Stuart Goddard, known professionally as Adam Ant, had a very successful run on the British pop charts between 1980-1983, earning 10 Top Ten hit singles both as lead singer of the New Wave band Adam and The Ants and as a solo artist. In the US, his chart appearances were far more limited, reaching the Top 20 just twice, in 1982 and 1990. Goddard, born in early November as a Scorpio, had been a hot-tempered child who twice threw bricks through his teacher’s office window, but another teacher helped him channel his anger into creative expression. After seeing the Sex Pistols in 1975, he said, “I wanted to do something different, be someone else. I decided I wanted to be Adam, because he was the first man, and I chose Ant because, if there’s a nuclear explosion, the ants will survive.” There’s a deep track on the 1981 “Prince Charming” album called “Scorpios,” which reflects on the aggressive nature of the scorpion: “Listen here from one who knows, be fearless just like the Scorpios, /Pretty, look young, be fearless like the scorpion…”

“Goodbye Pisces,” Tori Amos, 2005

Amos was something of a child prodigy, earning a scholarship to the music conservatory at Johns Hopkins University at a young age. Her piano and vocal skills were unquestioned but her rebelliousness didn’t sit well with authorities, and she struck out on her own as a solo artist in the 1990s, scoring multiple Top Ten albums including “Boys For Pele,” “From the Choirgirl Hotel,” “Strange Little Girls” and “Scarlet’s Walk.” Her 2005 LP “The Beekeeper,” a double concept album that focused on the themes of femininity and female empowerment, included a poignant breakup tune called “Goodbye Pisces,” in which she says farewell to a man who used to offer tender-loving care but has grown cold and insensitive: “In your boys life, you become like a bull in a china shop, /Smash it up into smithereens, /There you go again, breaking porcelain, /Is that all I am, just a doll you got used to? /We’ve done this before, /As Mars sauntered through his door, /Don’t say it’s time to say goodbye to Pisces…”

“Son of Sagittarius,” Eddie Kendricks, 1974

In 1960, Kendricks teamed up with Paul Williams, David Ruffin, Melvin Franklin and Otis Williams to become a vocal group first known as The Primes, and then The Temptations. Kendricks was the group’s first tenor but often sang in falsetto, carrying the high melody on many of their hits, including “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” “Get Ready,” “I’m Gonna Make You Love Me” and “Just My Imagination.” He found himself at odds with the band and its managers by 1971 and decided to strike out on his own, eventually enjoying a #1 solo hit with 1973’s “Keep On Truckin’.” The title song of his second solo LP “Boogie Down” reached #2 in 1974, and a second single from that album, “Son of Sagittarius,” reached #28 on pop charts. Kendricks and his father were both born under the Sagittarius sign (mid-November to mid-December), hence the lyrics: “People, I am the fire, number nine Zodiac sign, /Jupiter brings me the power, Saturn brings me peace of mind, /I must be clear there’s no use in trying to change me, in Lady Luck I put my trust, /I’m the one, I’m the one, I’m the son of a Sagittarius…”

“Aries,” Freddie Hubbard, 1964

Hubbard was a master of jazz trumpet, specializing in bebop, hard bop and post-bebop, broadening the perspectives of modern jazz from the early 1960s well into the 1990s. Even in his 20s, he performed and recorded with some of the biggest names in jazz, including Wes Montgomery, John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, McCoy Tyner and Quincy Jones. He released more than 60 albums on Blue Note and other labels, almost exclusively instrumental explorations, and participated as a sideman on upwards of 120 other LPs by a broad range of jazz artists. On his 1964 release “The Body & The Soul,” there’s a concise little track called “Aries,” titled, I assume, because Hubbard was an Aries himself, born in early April.

“Gift From Virgo,” Beyoncé, 2003

The superstar pop icon whose unparalleled success earned her the nickname Queen Bey got her start as a member of the R&B female vocal group Destiny’s Child in the 1990s, and then went on to score seven consecutive Number One albums as a solo artist. Her first, “Dangerously in Love,” came in 2003 and included the international hits “Crazy in Love,” “Baby Boy,” “Me, Myself and I” and “Naughty Boy.” Born in early September, Beyoncé is a Virgo, who tend to be detail-oriented perfectionists but with a practical and logical side, which might explain why her music has been meticulous and well thought out. In her song “Gift From Virgo” from that same album, the lyrics touch on the innocence of first love, and they hint that the narrator’s virginity might be the gift in question: “Do you remember our first kiss? It wasn’t long enough, /Remember the first time we spent those weeks together? They were not long enough, /One day we’ll make love, finally I’ll be yours, /Only you, only you, I could love you, /But it’s too late, I already love you…”

“Taurus,” Spirit, 1969

One of the better rock bands to come out of Los Angeles in the late ’60s, Spirit was underrated, although they had modest success with a few singles (“Fresh Garbage,” “I Got a Line on You,” “Mr. Skin,” “Nature’s Way”) and albums (“The Family That Plays Together” and “The Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus”). They had a strong cult following in California especially, touring often during their initial five years of existence. Singer Jay Ferguson wrote the bulk of their repertoire, although guitarist Randy Wolfe (who went by Randy California) also composed a few tracks. One that later generated considerable controversy was a short instrumental piece entitled “Taurus.” Since it has no lyrics, it’s hard to gauge the relevance of its title, except that it’s a quiet, reflective track, in keeping with the preference of Taurus folks for “serene environments, soft sounds, soothing aromas and succulent flavors.” It offers a prominent guitar passage that later bore a striking resemblance to the introductory section of Led Zeppelin’s 1971 tour de force, “Stairway to Heaven.” Wolfe’s estate ended up filing a copyright infringement lawsuit in 2014 which proved unsuccessful, but it brought attention to both the band and that particular tune.

“Cancer,” Joe Jackson, 1982

A product of the post-punk New Wave movement in London in the late ’70s, Jackson established a reputation as an “angry young man” with biting, sarcastic lyrics and a sneering vocal delivery. By 1982, he showed a remarkably sophisticated musical approach on his brilliant 1982 LP “Night and Day,” a cycle of songs inspired by his first lengthy visit to New York City. The sprightly arrangement of “Steppin’ Out” and tender melody of “Breaking Us in Two” put him on the US pop charts that year, but just as compelling were deeper piano-driven tracks like “Target” and “Cancer.” The latter was Jackson’s commentary on the fitness craze of the ’80s, and how, no matter how much we tried to take better care of ourselves, “Everything that’s enjoyable is bad for your health. It seems like everything gives you cancer.” Again, this is all about the incurable disease, not the astrological sign, which includes such personality traits as keen emotional intelligence, an almost supernatural sensitivity, and the ability to compassionately meet the needs of others.

“Leo,” Grace Kinstler, 2023

Kinstler is a phenomenal 21-year-old singer from Chicago who moved to Los Angeles and gained fame as a finalist on the 2021 season of the “American Idol” TV talent program. She performed in the Rose Bowl Parade in January 2023, introducing her new single “Leo” at the event. The artist and her music are so new that there’s little information about this song that I could find, but I was intrigued by it when I came across it on Spotify. Is Leo the guy’s name, the astrological sign, or maybe both? Leos are confident, drama-loving, fiercely protective and comfortable with being the center of attention. You decide: “Shuffling down memory lane, doesn’t feel quite the same without you, how can my mind get away when he smiles on my face, I miss you, heading way down, I’m missing all your signs, when I see you around, got me feeling so inspired, so many words, I don’t know what to write, but you know I’m gonna try… I’ll do it over and over again, I’ll be a Leo…”

“Gemini Dream,” The Moody Blues, 1981

Guitarist Justin Hayward and bassist John Lodge, who had individually written many of the songs in The Moody Blues catalog, collaborated for the first time on this engaging rocker from the group’s strong 1981 LP, “Long Distance Voyager.” Lodge wrote about the band getting back on tour and in the studio after several years while Hayward came up with verses referring to two people sharing the same dream, and they combined the two lyrical topics into one melodic structure which ended up reaching #12 on US pop charts. Is it coincidental that the two musicians worked together on a song with twin topics and be titled “Gemini Dream”? Perhaps not. Like the astrological sign, the song has two sides — an intelligent pursuit of creative ideas but with a short attention span driven by restlessness: “Long time, no see, short time for you and me, /So fine, so good, we’re on the road like you knew we would… There’s a place, a Gemini dream, /There’s no escaping from the love we have seen, /So come with me, turn night to day, /You know you’re gonna wake up in a Gemini dream…”

“Libra,” Max Roach, 1968

Roach was another major player in the modern jazz arena as a drummer and occasional composer, who worked with the likes of Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, Charles Mingus and Thelonius Monk. From his debut LP in 1953 into the 1990s, Roach put together an enviable catalog of vintage jazz recordings including several as the Max Roach Quartet. One of his favorite sidemen was noted saxophonist Gary Bartz, who wrote the busy instrumental track “Libra” for the 1968 LP “Members, Don’t Git Weary”on Atlantic. Again, I must presume Bartz used the title because he was a Libra, born in late September…

“Jesus Was a Capricorn,” Kris Kristofferson, 1972

“Honest, loyal, sensitive and confident” are four of the dominant personality traits of those born in the sign of Capricorn (Dec 21-Jan. 19), which includes Christmas, the supposed birthdate of Jesus. Kristofferson wrote “Jesus Was a Capricorn” as a tribute of sorts to John Prine, whose songwriting he greatly admired, with lyrics that were at once whimsical and irreverent: “Jesus was a Capricorn, he ate organic food, /He believed in love and peace, and never wore no shoes, /Long hair, beard and sandals, and a funky bunch of friends, /Reckon we’d just nail him up if he came down again…” Kristofferson had bristled at some of the criticism written about his earlier work, which sparked the line in the chorus, “Everybody’s gotta have somebody to look down on… /If you can’t find nobody else, then help yourself to me…” It became the title song to his third LP in 1972. The album didn’t do well at first but, a year later, it reached #1 on country charts on the strength of its third single, “Why Me.”

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