Usually when I write a song, my parents are the first to hear it. They are around, and they have good ears, and I know they will support me. Most of my songs discuss general issues, or some experience they already knew about. I have rarely written one that expresses personal feelings about a specific situation. But when I do, I get scared. So when I screamed, "Don't read my notebook!" last night and my dad immediately starting guessing topics, I was more worried than ever. I begged and pleaded with him to not even take a peek; he said he wouldn't but his guesses and teasing were relentless. I think my parents like the idea of me feeling awkward as I grow up. I love them dearly, and they often know exactly what to do.... In fact, I can't even say what I'd've preferred.
Parents are like water overflowing from a bathtub, and I'm the floor. Water tries to seep into every crack and nook and cranny and crevice, and it's hard to get it out once it's in. Over time, the grout between bathroom tiles can wear down. Then, you've got two problems. It's not that the water don't clean the dirt off the floor, it's just that it has trouble leaving some of it dry.
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