Songs of New England

Songs of New England

Spite

Kenzi Quinn
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Ongelma

Featuring two original songs from Kenzi Quinn's album Throw Her Back, which explore themes of love, betrayal, regret and acceptance with distinctive Maine allusions and imagery. Lyrics and themes by Nick Zedlar.

MitÀ tein

Wrote lyrics balancing narrative clarity with poetic imagery and emotional authenticity. Structured "Spite" around ironic reversal, building tension toward the final reveal. Grounded "Wiscasset" in specific coastal Maine geography to anchor abstract nostalgia.

Vaikutus

Demonstrates ability to translate complex emotional dynamics into structured narrative. Shows command of tone management—sarcasm in "Spite," wistfulness in "Wiscasset." Reveals attention to craft: internal rhyme schemes, meter consistency, thematic coherence.

Opit

The best personal writing earns universality through specificity. Don't generalize the feeling—name the street, describe the smell, remember what was said. Readers find themselves in your details, not your abstractions. Featuring two original songs from Kenzi Quinn's album Throw Her Back, which explore themes of love, betrayal, regret and acceptance with distinctive Maine allusions and imagery. Lyrics and themes by Nick Zedlar.
Look! I wrote the "sorry" that you always sought
And signed it with a “Sincerely, I was wrong.”
Of course, you were the victim and I was the crackpot.
You’re "misunderstood." I'm the bitch who wrote a song!

Yep, I was overthinking everything for sure
There was no gaslighting. I set myself ablaze!
Here’s my confession, the truth told clear and pure
I'M the one to blame. Let me count the ways!

Right, I chased you away,
Drove you to look elsewhere.
I won't use the word "betray,"
'Cause that would be unfair.

Yeah, it was all MY fault. You were right all along:
I’m the storm, you’re the calm, I’m the poison in the well,
You’re the innocent angel, I’m everything that's wrong
After all, I’m the reason we fell from heaven into hell.

Every tear I cried? Let’s call that my crime too!
I'm so sorry. Here’s your gold star, Mr. Right.
I'll cop to every deed, for once be straight with you:
I'M the one to blame, babe, what I said was out of spite!

Yeah, it was me, you may recall, in my boredom,
While my partner pulled a double shift again,
Decided to join the soiled ranks of whoredom
At the Bar Harbor Holiday Inn.

It was me, you know, who got stinking drunk
With a random floozie from Cottage Street,
And later didn't think to wrap up my junk
Or in any way be the least bit discreet.

And best of all, it was totally me, all alone,
Who had the gall to call you unstable,
Thoughtless, absent, cold as graveyard stone
For working all the time to put food on the table.

Right, I chased you away,
Drove you to look elsewhere.
I won't use the word "betray,"
'Cause that would be unfair.

Yeah, it was all MY fault. You were right all along:
I’m the storm, you’re the calm, I’m the poison in the well,
You’re the innocent angel, I’m everything that's wrong
After all, I’m the reason we fell from heaven into hell.

Every tear I cried? Let’s call that my crime too!
I'm so sorry. Here’s your gold star, Mr. Right.
I'll cop to every deed, for once be straight with you:
I'M the one to blame, babe, what I said was out of spite!

Spite.

I was gone all the time, so you had the RIGHT
To seek comfort without fear of divorcing.
I'm the evil queen and you're the white knight.
It's insignificant, if you think of it as...what? "Outsourcing"?

What's sad is that you believe this fairy tale.
The sense of victimhood and entitlement, I mean.
That infidelity is just the sum of being male
And restless on a Friday night. It's obscene!

No, YOU'RE the one at fault, YOU were cheating all along
YOU conjured the storm. YOU poisoned the well.
You’re no innocent angel. About that I'm not wrong.
If there ever was a heaven, YOU turned it into hell.

Every tear I cried... Wait. Since when was that a crime?
Forget it ! For you, there's no gold star in sight.
I'm far from perfect, but at least I stayed true to you.
You're unworthy of my love, my devotion. Even my spite.

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