Call Me Irresponsible



He walked onto the stage, shabbily dressed with his head down, one would think he was an alcoholic who had just been kicked out of yet another rehabilitation centre, you don’t get it? He was sporting a pair of very faded blue jeans; a partly buttoned dress shirt that he probably picked up from the depths of someone’s very cluttered trunk, he had a glass of what everyone assumed to be gin in his hand, his beard needed to be visited by a decent shaving stick. His hair, was unkempt, it had major residue of what one could only hope could have been hair gel.
He grabbed the microphone, and mumbled something about a dedication to the newly weds and walked over to the piano, the guests were petrified, someone started an odd rumour that he was the ex-boyfriend of either the bride or the groom, he took his place in front of the grand master, played an off tune, the guests shifted in their seats, the bride, on the dance floor didn’t seem bothered by the intruder that was now armed with a microphone and a piano. Her groom’s face could not be seen but one could only hope that he had not pressed the white panic button and was now awaiting re-enforcement.
He breathe into the microphone, two men in black jackets stepped forward, they were stopped by the bride, the alcoholic-cum-musician-cum-hostage taker smiled, he rolled the back of his hand delicately across the keys of the piano, creating a melodious tune, the crowd mumbled. He played a few chords in C minor to get their attention; the people sat up, and from his mouth came sounds, that cannot be explained, he started to sing; Me and Mrs Jones; we’ve always talked about Angels singing to God and praising him, perhaps one of them fell out of heaven and took over the body of a mere mortal, and decided to render it useless with the gift of music.




Me and Mrs Jones
We got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But its much too strong to let it go now
We meet everyday at the same café
Six thirty and no one knows she’ll be there
Holding hands, making all types of plans
While the jukebox plays our favourite song


Me and Mrs Jones
Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones
We got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it s much too strong to let it go now
We got to be extra careful
That we don’t feel our hopes up too high
Because she’s got her own obligations
And so do I

Me and Mrs Jones
Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones
Now its time for us to be leaving
And it hurts so much
It hurts so much inside
Now I will go away,
I don’t mind But tomorrow we’ll meet at the same place, same time

Me and Mrs Jones
Mrs, Mrs, Mrs Jones




That was the thought that crossed my mind as I played Me and Mrs Jones on repeat :)


Me and Michael Buble, we’ve got a thing going on, ever since I played the CD for the first time, I haven’t stopped playing it, (Thank you “corporate sponsors”) Don’t get me wrong, my first love will forever be Matthew Aaron Dusk, but MB rocks as well.

7 comments:

Naijadude said...

I hope this will be an everlasting love eh! I LOVE him from the moment I heard him, explains why I have more than 4 albums now eh, lol

Uzo said...

LOL...Sure Michael Buble's version is nice but i urge you to listen to the original done by Billy Paul...Enjoy

Jaja said...

Buble Rocks.. just got one of his CD s..
where u gone now anyway???

Spook E said...

I heard of the dude with the funny name but never heard his music. I'll be checking it out

Jaja said...

Buble is gay! (just kiddin')
Like uzo says original by Billy Paul rocks. Old skool genius... listen to over some fine cognac... and a fireplace.

Cheers

Mamarita said...

Uzo: I heard Billy Paul's version but I guess something about Buble's version makes me wanna change my name to MRS JONES

Jaja: If u like buble then you'll MATT DUSK

SPOOK E: Please go and kneel down outside!!! Dissing Buble's name is a sin

lerieluvlie said...

love em too