Love Is a Dangerous Thing

I got the idea for this song from Tony Bennett. 

When his first Duets CD came out — to commemorate his 80th birthday — he did a TV special, showing him working with all his partners on the project, and discussing their working arrangements, etc.

When he was talking about Stevie Wonder, he said that the first time they'd met was at a benefit for Coretta Scott King, held in Atlanta. Bennett had to fly down from New York City in a huge snowstorm.

"It was a dangerous night for flying..." he said, and kept repeating the phrase.

One of the cool things I've noticed about Tony Bennett is that everything he does is so steeped in jazz that he even swings when he talks. (Think about it for a sec, and you'll see I'm right.)  So when he kept going back to that phrase — "It was a dangerous night for flying..." — a swing tune started forming in my head. 

The lyric came a few days later.

Love Is a Dangerous Thing

(click here to play)

Verse:
Seems like love has always got 

your heart right over a barrel.

And though this new chick’s hot, 

your evening’s fraught with peril.
Right now it seems you could live on dreams, 

but life’s no seaside resort.
Long story short, this song is sort 

of a down-to-earth travel report:

Tune:
            It’s a dangerous night to be flying

with the stars burning bright in her eyes.

And though she’s cute bring a big parachute—

just a word to the wise.

It’s a treacherous stretch of the highway,

a switchback that circles and snakes.

Yet ’round ev’ry curve you just punch it and swerve

as if you’ve never heard of the brakes.

All hail the incredible feeling,

to sail out where stars never end.

But talk about grief, when that ship hits the reef,

you’ll soon be drowning, my friend.

You’re engaging in risky behavior
each time that you kiss and you cling.

Yes, flirting is fun when you do it and run,

but love is a dangerous thing.

Now you’d never go running with scissors,

and you’d never jump off a cliff.

So why treat romance as if you’ve got a chance—

that’s a mighty big if.

Yes, I used to get stupid by starlight.

I’d give in to Cupid’s old jive.

But last time I did my poor heart took a skid

and barely squeaked through it alive.

Still it felt great to be breathless,

that thrill that cuts straight to the bone—

just wondering when you might see her again,

and not straying too far from the phone.

No, no, these are desperate dreams to be dreaming

despite what it seems they might bring.

They seldom come true, but then when they do

they bring you a new song to swing;

But don’t count on happiness;

love is a dangerous thing!

Music & Lyric Copyright © 2006 by LEE CHARLES KELLEY 
West Sixty Ninth Street Music (ASCAP)

Piano: Janice Friedman
Vocal: Lee Charles Kelley