Mike wants his color T.V. back

Mike Jeffery was perhaps Nancy’s first real heart throb…..if that’s not an oxymoron…..  “real heart throb!”  Haha.  The wagging tail of a particularly cute dog can have the same effect!  So yes, the story was all too commonplace, even if the characters were not.  

It was the night before Mike was to sail away to Morocco

Just like a scene out of Casablanca

We sat looking into each other’s eyes

in a little Italian restaurant called Ginos

huddled beside each other, in a booth.

Tears were falling down my cheeks

‘People are looking at us,’ I said

The next day he took me in a limo

to the Russian Tea Room for lunch

We must have lingered a little too long

Because I heard, after the fact, that he had missed his ship.

He had to be helicoptered out to sea

Where he landed on the deck, blades a whirling, 

In typical spectacular fashion

Off went Mike to his next adventure

in his ever-so-exciting life

And I walked home to 74th St.

To begin my next album cover.

The ending might as well have been scripted as well. 

Indeed Mike, like other globe-trotters before him, and probably many more after, tracked a pink light of love and seduction across the globe, from London to Peru to Morocco.

Why would you unplug yourself from me

If you so enjoyed the light we made?

I don’t know where I got the concept that love could be drained away

but after Mike,

I felt just like the container I came in.

I feel like I’m missing something

Even more than the things that I’m missing

Maybe I’m missing the point.

One day, after Mike and I broke up

I got a call from him, telling me that someone was coming

to pick up the color T.V. from my apartment, and take it to his.

He had given me that T.V. two years earlier

I was stunned

He could have bought a dozen color T.V.s

with the cash in his wallet

but he wanted the one he gave me.

I didn’t need the T.V. as much as I needed to say goodbye to him right then,

and hang up the phone.

When I first realized that I loved someone, I cried like a girl

By the time that we broke up, I had learned enough

to cry like a woman.

He’s tripping, said Eric [Burdon]

I felt clueless

What a way to cheat on somebody

He left his body and he took his mind.

And I made love to him

Bleeding for the last time

Earth and Sky.

Was he an agent of something near, or far?

In hindsight

I wonder how much of this smart man that I loved

was made of stolen parts.

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