The Ballad of Dolores Haze

I have been writing songs lately, so I thought I’d share this one with you: think of it as sung in Country and Western style.

He broke my heart

But you broke my life

He was a creature of art

You were a monster equipped with a knife

A pentapod monster, I’d agree with that

His pen and photography were never so bad

I loved him so, I don’t know why

It’s not as if he was much of a guy

You killed my mother

So you could get to me

He saved me from another

Who would never let me be

Clare Quilty was his name

He was impotent, or so he claimed

You were anything but

But I’d rather be trapped in a desolate hut

No, I never vibrated to your touch

How could I when I hated it so much?

You loved me, you say

You’d take me far away

But I’d rather stay in this town of hicks

With my ironically named Dick

Than hitch myself to your terrible beam

And live again in that despicable dream

You broke my life, you see

And that’s not nothing, that’s all of me

Oh, you are hurting, I can tell

And I do pity you in your self-made hell

Goodbye honey, please dry your tears

They’re nothing compared to my childhood years

And the motels and the cars

And the bars and the barmen and the cold gray stars