023: sing a song II
[Zora wandered down to Caritas around nine, and has since been sitting at the bar nursing a drink since then. Finally having finished it, Zora heads over to the stage, handing the music off to the DJ on the way - karaoke version conveniently provided by the Castle, of course.
Once on stage, Zora is at ease and sure of herself. She's always had a pretty decent voice, and she's never been performance-shy.]
Song's called "Letter to a John" and it's by Ani DiFranco. Bit after my time, but, y'know, it kinda spoke to me.
[as the music starts, Zora stops looking at the crowd, and starts looking beyond them. Her voice is quiet, but it carries. She's had a little vocal training, and it shows, but there's real emotion in her voice that lends a little gravel and a little attitude.]
Don't ask me why I'm crying
I'm not going to tell you what's wrong
I'm just gonna sit on your lap
For five dollars a song
I want you to pay me for my beauty
I think it's only right
'Cause I have been paying for it
All of my life
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
And I'm gonna go away...
We barely have time to react in this world
Let alone rehearse
And I don't think I'm better than you
But I don't think that I'm worse
Women learn to be women
And men learn to be men
And I don't blame it all on you
But I don't wanna be your friend
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
And I'm gonna go away...
I was eleven years old
He was as old as my dad
And he took something from me
I didn't even know that I had
So don't tell me about decency
Don't tell me about pride
Just give me something for my trouble
'Cause this time, it's not a free ride
[during this verse, a small tear runs out of one eye. To the less observant, it might have been a bead of sweat, but she knows what rape is like - she wasn't that young, and he wasn't that old, but she can still relate.]
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
And I'm gonna go away...
Don't ask me why I'm crying
I'm not going to tell you what's wrong
I'm just gonna sit on your lap
For five dollars a song
I want you to pay me for my beauty
I think it's only right
'Cause I have been paying for it
All of my life
Now I just wanna take
And I'm just gonna take
I'm gonna take
And I'm gonna go away...
[she lets that note hang in the air a minute, and then walks off stage with no more than a nod and a whispered "thank you". she goes back to the bar and orders three tequila shots which she does in succession.]
[She sits there for a little while, and then leaves the bar, a little unsteady on her feet perhaps but not weaving. She walks until she gets to the fountain, and then collapses in front of it. She's crying, sobbing, and squeaking out little words that are incomprehensible, except to herself - and all of this quietly, so as not to wake anyone.]
[[ooc: mostly for Lorne, but feel free to catch her after the song or notice her at the fountain?]]
Once on stage, Zora is at ease and sure of herself. She's always had a pretty decent voice, and she's never been performance-shy.]
Song's called "Letter to a John" and it's by Ani DiFranco. Bit after my time, but, y'know, it kinda spoke to me.
[as the music starts, Zora stops looking at the crowd, and starts looking beyond them. Her voice is quiet, but it carries. She's had a little vocal training, and it shows, but there's real emotion in her voice that lends a little gravel and a little attitude.]
Don't ask me why I'm crying
I'm not going to tell you what's wrong
I'm just gonna sit on your lap
For five dollars a song
I want you to pay me for my beauty
I think it's only right
'Cause I have been paying for it
All of my life
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
And I'm gonna go away...
We barely have time to react in this world
Let alone rehearse
And I don't think I'm better than you
But I don't think that I'm worse
Women learn to be women
And men learn to be men
And I don't blame it all on you
But I don't wanna be your friend
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
And I'm gonna go away...
I was eleven years old
He was as old as my dad
And he took something from me
I didn't even know that I had
So don't tell me about decency
Don't tell me about pride
Just give me something for my trouble
'Cause this time, it's not a free ride
[during this verse, a small tear runs out of one eye. To the less observant, it might have been a bead of sweat, but she knows what rape is like - she wasn't that young, and he wasn't that old, but she can still relate.]
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
I'm gonna take the money I make
And I'm gonna go away...
Don't ask me why I'm crying
I'm not going to tell you what's wrong
I'm just gonna sit on your lap
For five dollars a song
I want you to pay me for my beauty
I think it's only right
'Cause I have been paying for it
All of my life
Now I just wanna take
And I'm just gonna take
I'm gonna take
And I'm gonna go away...
[she lets that note hang in the air a minute, and then walks off stage with no more than a nod and a whispered "thank you". she goes back to the bar and orders three tequila shots which she does in succession.]
[She sits there for a little while, and then leaves the bar, a little unsteady on her feet perhaps but not weaving. She walks until she gets to the fountain, and then collapses in front of it. She's crying, sobbing, and squeaking out little words that are incomprehensible, except to herself - and all of this quietly, so as not to wake anyone.]
[[ooc: mostly for Lorne, but feel free to catch her after the song or notice her at the fountain?]]