Fiona Apple Fetch the bolt cutters I Want You to Love Me [Verse 1] I've waited many years Every print I left upon the track Has led me here And next year, it'll be clear This was only leading me to that And by that time, I hope that [Chorus] You love me You love me [Verse 2] I move with the trees in the breeze I know that time is elastic And I know when I go All my particles disband and disperse And I'll be back in the pulse And I know none of this will matter in the long run But I know a sound is still a sound around no one And while I'm in this body I want somebody to want And I want what I want and I want [Chorus] You to love me You [Bridge] And I know that you do In the dark, I know that you do And I know that you know that you got The potential to pick me up And I want you to use it, blast the music Bang it, bite it, bruise it Whenever you want to begin, begin We don't have to go back to where we've been I am the woman who wants you to win And I've been waiting, waiting for [Outro] You to love me, You, You, Ooh, ooh This started as a love song to somebody I hadn’t met yet. Then I got back together with Jonathan [Ames] in 2015, and it became about him for a while. Then we broke up about a year later, so it wasn’t about him anymore. Which is how these things go. The songs change who they’re about a lot. It came out of the time I’d spent doing a lot of meditation, thinking about the nature of things. That whole thing of, “If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around to hear it, does it make a sound?” Yes, it does. Because a vibration happens. Whether or not you’re there to hear it. I exist whether or not you see me. These things about me are true whether or not you acknowledge them. That’s at least the second verse. “But I know a sound is still a sound/around no one.” The line about the pulse “And I know when I go all my particles disband and disperse / and I’ll be back in the pulse.” — that was the experience I’d had this one day after six days straight of meditating at Spirit Rock in Woodacre, California, in a group of about 75 women in 2010. I had this throbbing in my head. Then I remembered this advice someone had given me, which was to just surrender — allow yourself to fall through water, stop trying to do anything. And for some reason, I was able to do that, and the throbbing in my head left. But then everybody was throbbing — everything. I’d never had an experience like that, and it’s hard for me to remember what it felt like now, but it’s the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me in my life. I knew then what life and death was. It’s this pulse. And we all share it, and it sounds so cheesy. But it wasn’t in my head; it was out of it. It was among us all. It was something we were all in together. It was like this place of home, this pulse we would all be in. I felt like I had found it and everything felt so beautiful. I felt like if I opened my eyes, maybe it would disappear. But I opened my eyes and it was still happening. I left the meditation hall, and it was still happening. I walked down the hill, and there were these horses that never paid attention to me. But I felt there was this understanding between us. I felt all of this. And after a while it went away. But I remember that that was there. It changed everything for me. Just knowing, “Okay, no matter what happens, that’s where home is. That’s what the reality is. I know it’s there.” Shameika [Verse 1] I used to walk down the streets On my way to school Grinding my teeth to a rhythm invisible I used my feet to crush dead leaves like they had fallen from trees Just for me, just to be crash cymbals [Pre-Chorus] In class, I'd pass the time Drawing a slash for every time The second hand went by a group of five Done twelve times was a minute [Chorus] But Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential [Verse 2] I used to march down the windy, windy sidewalks Slapping my leg with a riding crop Thinking it made me come off so tough I didn't smile, because a smile always seemed rehearsed I wasn't afraid of the bullies, and that just made the bullies worse [Pre-Chorus] In class, I'd pass the time Drawing a slash for every time The second hand went by a group of five Done twelve times was a minute [Chorus] But Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential [Bridge] Hurricane Gloria in excelsis deo That's my bird in my tree My dog and my man and my music is my holy trinity Hurricane Gloria in excelsis deo That's my bird in my tree My dog and my man and my music is my holy trinity [Verse 3] Tony told me he'd describe me as pissed off, funny, and warm Sebastian said I'm a good man in a storm Back then I didn't know what potential meant And Shameika wasn't gentle and she wasn't my friend but She got through to me and I'll never see her again She got through to me and I'll never see her again I'm pissed off, funny, and warm I'm a good man in a storm And when the fall is torrential, I'll recall [Chorus] Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential [Verse 3] Tony told me he'd describe me as pissed off, funny, and warm Sebastian said I'm a good man in a storm Back then I didn't know what potential meant But Shameika wasn't gentle and she wasn't my friend But she got through to me and I'll never see her again She got through to me and I'll never see her again I'm pissed off, funny, and warm I'm a good man in a storm And when the fall is torrential, I'll recall [Chorus] Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika said I had potential Shameika is real. When I first wrote the song, I was not entirely convinced she existed. Because I have this one memory and it’s a very big memory for me. But maybe I created this person. My third-grade teacher, Linda Kunhart, was my favorite teacher. I’ve kept in touch with her over the years. She read the New Yorker article, and the next day, she sent me an email saying, “I heard you wrote about Shameika. I can see her …” She sent me a picture of her. I don’t remember what grade she was in. I was probably 11 or so. I don’t remember why she was talking to me. I just remember being in the cafeteria, a bunch of girls at one end of the table. I came over to sit with them, and they started laughing at me. So I sat one seat away but still tried to be close to them. Shameika came up, and she was like, “Why are you trying to sit with those girls? You have potential.” That was all she said to me. But I had remembered that maybe she was a bully or something. Then I got sent this picture of her, and she’s so cute — she doesn’t look like a bully at all. She’s just got this big smile on her face. But on the piece of paper that Miss Kunhart sent me, there’s this short essay Shameika had written on the top. And, man, it is amazing. It’s all about how she got put up to do this thing in church, in the service. And everybody was laughing because she was so cute and she messed up words or something. And she was so pissed. She was like, “They used me to bring the people in there, to think it was cute. They used me.” I was like, This little kid realized what the fuck was going on. I’m terrified to think — what if she’s not a nice person nowadays? Or maybe she hates me or something. I’d be afraid for her to hear it. But I think about that little picture of her. She’s so sweet. My middle-school experience is still so important to me. Mainly because that’s where my relationship to women started getting fucked up.