She did it to me again, alone in my living room, she sang for me. And I sang back. I can’t sing a lick, but I can sing Stevie Nicks.
Mentoring American Idols, there she was. Unbelievable. The chic who sang my high school heartache out, “alone in my room I will not wait for you.” And she loved the idols I did, Phillip and Elise. I’d take you any day Philip, you with your heart that comes out your mouth, and Elise, a chic who rocks Led Zeppelin. What a star.
So Stevie already had me at hello, but then she had to go and give advice to one of the girls who has a voice bigger than her passion. “My mother died two months ago. I have no problems.” Sing that, she said. Feel that. Damn you Stevie Nicks, still singing my story. Alone in my room, she made me sing again.
Thank God for her. There’s no one like her. She is my past, and she’s still with me.
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