[From Album #1 – Dean Martin Sings (Dean Martin)]
She wanted to drink and stay in, so that’s what we did. We were both tired and sweated most of the booze out of our system. At the end of the night we just laid in bed and saw a movie, some old-foreign-horror movie I can’t remember the name of, I thought it was mostly funny.
Somewhere along the way, after the movie ended and we were just lying there considering what to do next, she got serious on me. Not sad or angry or annoyed or anxious or frustrated or anything like that, just this type of somber melancholy. Her eyes, though facing me, looked right through me as if she was seeing something coming on or maybe something that had since passed. I couldn’t tell and I didn’t know what to make of it.
“You alright there, silly?”
She snapped out of it and she saw me, “Yeah, I’m ok, just tired.”
“Thought I lost you for a second there.” I couldn’t tell how much of an understatement that was then.
She yawned and stretched out wrapping her arms around me, “Let’s go to bed.”
“Sure, I ain’t doing nothing.” It was a bit I did.
I got up to turn off the lights and got into bed. We kissed, said goodnight and said we loved each other. I closed my eyes.
I opened my eyes and noticed the glow of her cell phone screen, “Yeah? What’s up?”
“Can you play this song while we go to sleep?” She handed me the phone.
The phone was ready, all I had to do was tap the play button, “For sure, let’s see here.”
The song started playing, “Goodnight, darling.”
I’d heard the song before, from her. It was this quiet indie song, I guess, if I had to rope it in. The song was good, you couldn’t really tell what the words were though. The song did come over you in certain type of way, a protective sort of way, maybe I was just coming down slow from the booze. Anyway, that’s what it felt like. And after it covered me it felt like it would go through me, right through my chest, I could even feel this pressure from it. It would straight through my chest and go to something coming on or something that had since passed.
The song ended.
“Baby, can you play it again?”
I forget how many times she asked me to replay the song that night, and every time it was the same. Every time I tried to figure out where the song would go. I never figured out where or what point in time the song went to, I never figured out what or what point in time her eyes saw. And I wondered if I was there, I wished I was there.