Cold As Seattle Rain

[Intro — lonely Appalachian fiddle over fingerpicked acoustic guitar in a minor key. A distant pedal steel bends upward like a cold wind. No drums for the first four bars.] [Verse 1 — Janice, warm conversational alto, gentle Southern inflection] I was raised where the sun stays out past supper, Where the front door’s open and the sweet tea’s cold. I’ll remember your name, ask about your mother, Give you half of everything I own. I’ve been known to love a little too easy, Let a stranger pull a chair up to my table. But there’s a difference between needing someone And taking everything because you’re able. [Pre-Chorus — fiddle climbs, restrained bass enters] I don’t go looking for a thunderstorm, I was born to keep the people around me warm. But there’s a line you cross that changes things, And you won’t hear a warning when it breaks. [Chorus — soaring high-lonesome country melody, long aching vibrato on “rain,” subtle harmony underneath] I’m Florida sunshine till you give me a reason, Then I’m cold as Seattle rain. I can love you like July in the morning, Or leave you standing in November gray. I don’t turn bitter without a reason, I don’t shut a door without some pain. I’m Florida sunshine till you give me a reason, Then I’m co-o-old as Seattle rain. [Post-Chorus — mournful pedal steel answers the final sustained note] Cold as Seattle rain… [Verse 2 — a little more grit in her voice, brushed snare enters] I used to think that everybody meant well, That a promise was a promise, plain and true. I could find the good in almost anybody, Even when the good was hard to prove. But you kept on testing all my kindness, Like forgiveness was a debt I had to pay. And the funny thing about a heart that keeps on giving Is how quiet it gets when it walks away. [Pre-Chorus — lower, more deliberate, fiddle holds a tense note] I won’t raise my voice to make you listen, Won’t throw a single thing against the wall. You can tell the whole world that I’ve changed, But you don’t get to say you don’t know why at all. [Chorus — fuller arrangement, Janice pushes into her upper register] I’m Florida sunshine till you give me a reason, Then I’m cold as Seattle rain. I can love you like July in the morning, Or leave you standing in November gray. I don’t turn bitter without a reason, I don’t shut a door without some pain. I’m Florida sunshine till you give me a reason, Then I’m co-o-old as Seattle rain. [Instrumental break — fiddle and pedal steel trade mournful phrases. A slightly distorted electric guitar enters underneath, adding a dark Seattle grunge texture without overpowering the country arrangement.] [Bridge — drums become heavier, low grunge guitar distortion swells. Janice sings with restrained anger, almost breaking on the final line.] And don’t you call me heartless, When you watched my heart wear thin. Don’t you say you miss the old me When you helped to do her in. I didn’t wake up wanting winter, Didn’t pray for skies of gray. You just kept on striking matches Till the sunshine went away. [Breakdown — instruments drop to a single acoustic guitar, faint fiddle drone. Janice sings almost unaccompanied.] And somewhere underneath this weather, There’s a woman who still loves the sun. She’ll be warm again for somebody, Just not the one who made her run. [Final Chorus — full high-lonesome vocal, sweeping fiddle, steel guitar, controlled grunge guitars, aching sustained notes] I’m Florida sunshine till you give me a reason, Then I’m cold as Seattle rain. I can love you like July in the morning, Or leave you standing in November gray. I don’t turn bitter without a reason, I don’t shut a door without some pain. I’m Florida sunshine till you give me a reason, Then I’m co-o-o-old as Seattle rain. [Outro — everything falls away except fiddle, acoustic guitar, and a faint pedal steel] [Janice — softly, almost tenderly] I’ll still be sunshine for somebody… Just not for you again. [Final pedal steel note bends downward and fades into silence.]