I am a torch singer.
I write sad love songs, cuz I carrying around a flame for some damn asshole left along the way.
Well I remember writing WEAR RED.
It was in NYC at the height of my club career there.
I had just won Best Show MAC Award for my long running act.
Closing for me was Miss Beryl Stone, a career aspirant.
She’s a big sexy klutz.
She got what the guys want.
Every night the stage door johnnies would line up to meet her. She’d have her pick.
Always, she chose unwisely.
Going out with fellows who just wanted to feel her up once then drop her like a half eaten donnut.
One evening after our show, she was abnormally quiet, so I said what’s the problem?.
Apparently, the latest in her string of consorts was done after a week – moving for the exit.
She just hated having to start all over again – every few days.
She deserved to feel better about herself.
I told her, wild women don’t get the blues.
The pitfalls of relationship I know viscerall by making a habit of loving men who didn’t like me.
I am now too fugly old to be a Venus flytrap.
When I was in NYC, I still hoped to land a keeper.
On the way home that night, my musical director and me stopped off at Sardi’s for a nightcap.
I wrote WEAR RED after a few beverages, with him scribbling down the lyrics for me on a stack of napkins.
We rehearsed it the next day, and performed it that night.
An instant success.
Far and away my most popular tune.
Miss Stone was thrilled.
She turned down all the boys. Made them wait.
The guy she had been schtupping kicked to the curb.
Ended up meeting a very handsome man and hitching up proper for a long stretch.
He’s just about as smart as she is.
Miss Stone got a philosophical view about it all.
She lives for herself.
Men find that very sexy.
(Miss Beryl Stone and Stooey times 2 in WEAR RED)
Have a listen – see the movie –