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Being Watson |
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This
is my Sherlock Holmes song. I am
very fond of the Holmes material and often point out to anyone who
cares, which
is generally no one, that I started working Holmes stuff into West
of
Bathurst almost a year before Hollywood released its Holmes
film and the
current Holmes fad really got going. However, it's Watson who
fascinates
me. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once referred to him in an
interview as
Holmes's "rather stupid friend," but I prefer to think of him as
simply not a scarily logical analytical machine person. In
this song, he
has his say. |
| Recordings |
| Lyrics |
| Being
Watson |
| Mrs. Hudson showed
another client Into Flat B; You knew what he wanted right away. That didn’t stop you From approaching me To see if I had anything to say. I got it wrong, of course. I always do. I’m not sure why I even try. I’m not stupid, But I’m not you. We’re very different, you and I. I can’t help admiring Your enormous brain, Which analyses everything with ease, Without effort, Without pain, And everybody just says, “Mr. Holmes, please.” Most of the time, I am content To simply lurk behind. But every now and then, I resent That you never dream I’d mind Being Watson. Shunted slightly to the side. Being backup: Always bridesmaid, never bride. I have wondered In odd moments of ennui How you would handle being me: Being Watson. Later, you became more brilliant And more precise Solving scores of puzzling cases that Left me breathless, Without advice, Growing stupid and, for some reason, fat. The contrast made you Shine more bright, While I pranced like a buffoon. More than ever, You did everything right; I was a cartoon. Being Watson. You were sky, and I was soil. Being always Seen as nothing but a foil. You got brighter; I got obviously dim. Were you happy you weren’t him? You weren’t Watson. And I sometimes think it's all right. And I sometimes just lean back and let you shine. But I sometimes wish the glory Of the story I was telling could be mine. It's mostly fine. Now we've ventured Out into space In pursuit of crime. We've changed gender; We've changed race; We've travelled through time. We've met Cthulhu. We've turned bad. We've been lovers, though discreet. We've cured cancer. We've gone mad From the shadows over Baker Street. I'm brighter now, But still I find That no matter how far We go, I'm that same Step behind. We've changed, but we're still what we are. I'd break away, But I'm constrained By my own perfect loyalty. It's a bit Like being chained. I just hope someday you'll see Being Watson Would be really hard for you. Being silent Is what not everyone can do. You solve cases; Though I suppose that is a start, I'm the one who turns them into art. Being Watson Isn't always fun, but hey: Being different Must be worse. And anyway, You've existed So ridiculously long, And still you could never write this song. That's why I'm Watson. Back to Music page |