my dear heather
Written by Ron Moses
Guitar, bass, vocal, and programming by Ron Moses
Handclaps by Steve Hart, Matt Menhennett, Scott Lurowist and Ron Moses
Recorded for Vulva (unreleased), produced by Scott Lurowist and Ron Moses
No one’s ever told me they were offended by this song, so I guess it must be okay, right? I mean who doesn’t love a bouncy pop song about a guy who kidnaps his cheating girlfriend and buries her alive? Domestic violence against women has always been fertile ground for infantile comedy. Good fun, I say!
And there’s been plenty of opportunity to take offense, because this song is freakin’ old. I’m guessing 1989, maybe? It’s the first song I ever presented to a group of friends and they all agreed it was an actual song. My first hit single! And boy it got played to death over the years; at every drunken hangout, at every drunken bonfire, at every backyard hootenanny that may or may not have been drunken but yeah probably. If there was a willing audience (or a captive one, I can roll with that) and I had access to a guitar, I was playing “Heather.” Everyone seemed to love it; it’s what the kids call a “crowd pleaser.” One lady I’d never met came up to me after and said it reminded her of her daughter, which is kinda fucked but okay lady. I’m glad you enjoyed it and sorry to hear about your daughter. Please don’t murder her, and if you do, please don’t tell the media you listened to my song first.
This is v3 of this song, with the first two versions appearing on Musaic and Digital Dvorak (which was a re-recording of a number of songs from previous albums). This version is way beyond those two. This was recorded during the one weekend when both my musical buddy Steve Hart, and my high school buddy Matt Menhennett, made the trip to New York. Sadly, neither of them is with us any longer, so… yeah. I miss them. I’d like to think they would appreciate being immortalized on this compilation.
My dear Heather
I think I might have to hurt you
It’s beginning to look as though I might have to kill you
I told you time and time again
Don’t you mess around with any other men
Never again
My dear Heather
My dear Heather
Don’t bother going for the telephone
I’ve already cut the wires and now we’re all alone
I told you once, I told you twice
That it isn’t very nice to make a fool out of me
Now you’re gonna see
My dear Heather
I always knew you’d take me to the cleaners
If I filed for divorce
But I’ll be a thousand miles away
By the time they find your corpse
My dear Heather
My dear Heather
You’re never getting out of that box, my dear
It’s nailed and Crazy Glued
Not to mention the locks, my dear
I know you must not have much air
And there’s not much room in there
To go messin’ around
Six feet underground
My dear Heather
My dear Heather
My dear Heather
My dear Heather
My dead Heather