Instant Replay | john-allee-official

Instant Replay
Words and Music by John Allee

I saw you today
In a picture at the cleaners down the street
In a frame up on the wall

It was one I’d seen before
You were somewhere in someone else’s arms
And he wasn’t even tall

It must be something now
To be someone who’s known throughout the world
On screens and magazines
Whose face is everywhere and nowhere

I drove into town
Past the playhouse on Hampton Avenue
Where we’d sneak a cigarette

And some old film was there
Filled with stories that I couldn’t quite recall
But I still can’t quite forget

‘Cause in between the lost and the losing
It’s hard to see what’s left
It’s hard to take a chance
It’s hard to make the choice to move on

And I keep thinking …

If only I had stayed around
Until the final reel unwound
I might have found a way to end this endless instant replay
But autumn came and then the snow
Blurring all there was to know
And I’m here wondering still
Watching brick walls from my windowsill

I saw you today
At a table holding court and stopping time
In an east side restaurant

But was it really you
Or some memory projected through the past
Of the girl I used to want?

And was it all for show
Like the movies that calendar your life
In fictive little frames
Enlarged beyond their size like sorrow?

I drove myself mad
Thinking somehow I’d have you back again
‘Til the thinking made me numb

And now I wouldn’t know
If it’s you that I’ve wanted all this time
Or the image you’ve become

But I need something more
Not some goddess, perfection and divine
But skin and heart and noise
The things your wicked art destroys
Seducing all those lonely boys
By feeding them delicious lies
And leading them to fantasize about some summer afternoon
That stayed too late and came too soon
Then bled away like celluloid

If only I had stayed around
Until the final reel unwound
I might have found a way to end this endless instant replay
But autumn came and then the snow
Blurring all there was to know
And I’m here wondering still
Watching brick walls from my windowsill