So the idea of searching for your idea of identity
leads me to music, and a lot of the poems in the book
are about musicians, and music, and songs.
And one of the songs that I put in the book
is one of my favorite songs.
It's-- I think, one of those songs that are really life
lessons in the skies.
It's "Ain't Nobody's Business" is what I'm referring to.
It's the song that I know-- the version
that I'm aware of is the one that Billie Holiday does.
And if you-- the love songs that are like they,
kind of, sneak in the back door and tell you
what they're really about, even though on the surface they
sound kind of poppy, because the melody for "Ain't Nobody's
Business" is really a happy melody.
[SINGING MELODY]
(SINGING) Ain't nobody's business if I do.
It's really saucy, until you start listening to the lyrics.
I mean, the lyrics really go--
one part of the lyrics go, "If my papa beats me on Sunday
and I give him all my money on Monday,
ain't nobody's business if I do,"
and it's just one of those--
I mean, that's my sister.
That's my mother.
That's a lot of women that I know.
And the frustration of the truth of that line is--
so it's a life lesson.
So, "Nobody's Business".
"You have cheated me, and I still love you.
You have lied, and I still love you.
And the neighbors tell me you're nothing but, nothing but,
nothing but, and I still love you.
Love is dope, love is dope, love is dope,
and my degrees wither to paper and my smart wardrobe
slips out of context.
You walk over me, and I still love you.
You mock me to your friends, and I still love you.
I have tasted your hand, and my brother can't tell me,
and my mother can't tell me, and my father can't tell me,
and my sister can't tell me, and my college can't tell me,
and the talk show host can't tell me,
and Jesus, Jesus coming to warn me in my sleep can't tell me.
What the hell, what the hell, I guess there's
a police blotter in my future.
What the hell, what the hell, I suppose
I'll be a mystery corpse.
What the hell, what the hell, the easy smile has its way.
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby,
baby, baby.
Candy, candy, candy, candy, candy.
What the hell, what the hell, I guess I'm grown now.
What the hell, I guess I'll nurse this bruise.
Don't like it?'