It's hard to write a love song. Especially when you're not that much in love, or you're stuck in an awful relationship. "Some Women in Love" was my stab at it, anyhow.

Our society does a strange thing assuming every marriage is a love marriage. It wasn't always so, they say. And so if you look around at all the different married women you know, as I did circa 1998 or so, and the given was—idiotically—that all these married women are women in love, then you might conclude, as I do in this song, that women have very different ways of displaying that love.

I thought at the time it was a terribly romantic song, but that's hard to support now. Now, it seems to me that I could replace "love" in the lyrics with "denial." For the singer, too. He's in denial about how his own woman in love feels about him, hence he doesn't want to see how she looks at him. "Don't tell me how the one I love really looks at me..."

I did throw in some personal bits, to touch my awful wife at the time. There was a New Years Day that was very special back in 1991 in Minneapolis where we went downtown and found a steamy little coffee shop serving Blue Mountain Coffee and sat and talked about our dreams for the future and didn't squabble at all. Also, I've always loved morning glories, and there used to be strings and strings of them growing along the rusty chain link fence by our duplex in Uptown in the Summers there, which reminded me of the happy times with her.

Still, it's a very Cat Steven-sy song and latin guitar flourishes were really fun to do. Like many of the songs here, I was astounding myself at how good a player and composer I'd become. If that's not the case, don't tell me. No, no, don't tell me.