Food, Sex & Paranoia · 1990 · Arista

Song for a Doberman

Written by Tim Whelan

Published by BMG Music

I woke up in someone else's bed
To face a jury of my peers.
Broken bottles inside my head,
It's been the same for years.
But I don't understand the charge,
And I'm damned if I'm going to plead,
Why does everybody have to put the blame on me?

Am I expected to be sincere?
Am I expected to cry?
Well I just want to pose till the bars all close,
Then crawl away and die.
Am I to blame if someone stands in my road?
I'll crash my life if I please.
Why would anybody want to put the blame on me?

Squeeze my body till my backbone cracks,
Squeeze your heart into a paper cup.
Squeeze out every drop you have
And I'll drink it until I throw up.

Now I was in a foreign land,
Trying to make a call to you.
And I wanted to say 'Hey Jack, why don't you take me back?'
But I couldn't get through.
It's just when the crowd are somewhere else,
You're the only thing I see.
Why does everybody have to put the blame on me?
Baby, please, please don't put the blame on me.

Source: She Gets Out the Scrapbook: The Best of Furniture — 1991 CD inlay booklet.

Commentary

Written by Tim on tour in Eastern Europe. Recorded by the group in North London. Sung by Sally in New York. Dedicated to a gang member in Holland who inspired the title. Or something. From the album "Food, Sex and Paranoia" released on Arista in 1989. Should have been a single.

Band commentary — She Gets Out the Scrapbook — 1991 inlay (compiled by Jim, Tim, Hami)