How Dare He

How dare he.  

How dare he.  

How dare he take my favourite song,  

Act like he can change the tone.

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How can he take  

A private midnight conversation  

And sing it to the whole world—  

Shouting from the rooftops?

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How dare he take  

Something so private, so personal,  

Bring in the strings  

And those amazing harmonies?

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How can he perform it as grandeur  

When the original was so low-key?  

He’ll never take it away from the originator—  

He’ll only have borrowed it  

For the evening.

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But my goodness,  

Didn’t he wear it well.  

It suited him more than I admitted.

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I wanted to hate him.  

I wanted to say he ruined something sacred.  

I so badly wanted to walk away  

And say it was a poor parody,  

Dressed in theatrics.

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I never wanted to admit  

It was a different take  

That breathed,  

And could still honour my lifetime memories.

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There’s no competition.  

There’s no theft.

The owner will reclaim it,  

As he should.  

*

But it’s his to borrow again,  

Whenever he asks.

© Rob Spencer 2025