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| Minerva, goddess of wisdom |
You
offer me whisky, I much prefer gin
You
drive a Mercedes, I use the train
Your
clothes are Gucci, mine are Target
Your
words are poetry, mine just cliché
We’re
just incompatible, what can I say
Mismatched
and unsuited, but in love anyway
Your
fingers are ringed with gold, mine are just callused
Your
soul is generous, mine is plain jealous
Your
watch is from Zurich, mine from Canal Street
You
know the President, I can’t compete
You
were the princess, I was the pauper
You
had so much to give, I had nothing to offer
You
always won first prize, with power and grace
Me
I’m the man who lost the one-horse race
Your
coke was powder, mine came in cans
You
were mad about opera, I liked jazz bands
You
liked to make love at night, I preferred mornings
These
things should have cautioned us, should have been warnings
There
were others who asked you, many who’d have smiled
At
walking beside you the length of the aisle
I
don’t know why you chose me, I don’t mean to gloat
You
should have gone with the man in the long black coat
Those
were the reasons, a lifetime ago
Those
were the factors, you should have said no
Don’t
tell the grandkids, they’ll never accept
We
made it through fifty years, nobody left
We’re
still incompatible, what can I say
Mismatched
and unsuited, but in love anyway
You can find David Prashker at:
If
you would like to include "Incompatible" in your repertoire,
either for paid public performance or to record for commercial
purposes, or if you would like to re-use the recordings attached to this
blog-page for commercial purposes, contact
argaman@theargamanpress.com.
Use of this song, and/or these recordings, for
non-commercial purposes, is not simply permitted but invited.
Words and music by David Prashker
Copyright © 2014 David Prashker
All rights reserved
The Argaman Press
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