The plot is clichéd, the jokes are stale – Aimee Mann Rocks

Being a struggling writer is hard, and not in the sort of cool, tortured artist kind of way.  It is like punching as hard as you can into a memory foam mattress – any impression you make soon fades to nothing and it’s like you were never there.  Of course, you can’t wallow in the destitute ineffectiveness of past endeavors, but sometimes, just sometimes, it’s beneficial to look back at what you’ve done.  Even if you can’t see any impression on the mattress, you know you were there.

This song, Invisible Ink, by Aimee Mann is a luxury I allow myself to enjoy once in a while.  I don’t know Aimee’s intent when she wrote the song but I adore the words and identify with it in my own way.  She’s a fantastic wordsmith and performer.

Aimee Mann
from the album, Lost in Space (2001)
Invisible Ink

There comes a time when you swim or sink
So I jumped in the drink
Cuz I couldn’t make myself clear

Maybe I wrote in invisible ink
Oh I’ve tried to think
How I could have made it appear

But another illustration is wasted
Cuz the results are the same
I feel like a ghost who’s trying to move your hands
over some Ouija board in the hopes I can spell out my name

What some take for magic at first glance
Is just sleight of hand depending on what you believe
Something gets lost when you translate
It’s hard to keep straight
Perspective is everything

And I know now which is which and what angle I oughta look at it from
I suppose I should be happy to be misread-
Better be that than some of the other things I have become

But nobody wants to hear this tale
The plot is clichéd, the jokes are stale
And baby we’ve all heard it all before
Oh i could get specific but
Nobody needs a catalog
With details of love I can’t sell anymore

And aside from that, this chain of reaction,
baby, is losing a link
Though I’d hope you’d know what I tried to tell you
And if you don’t I could draw you a picture in invisible ink

But nobody wants to hear this tale
The plot is clichéd, the jokes are stale
And baby we’ve all heard it all before
Oh i could get specific but
Nobody needs a catalog
With details of love I can’t sell anymore

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3 thoughts on “The plot is clichéd, the jokes are stale – Aimee Mann Rocks

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