For 51 Years, I Thought Neil Diamond Was a Serial Killer
This morning, for no reason, Neil Diamond’s “Play Me” was running through my head.
So I played it.
Then I played it again.
And again.
I’ve loved this song since I was about twelve years old. I’m 63 now, which means I’ve been listening to it for roughly 51 years. I’m also an English teacher, a fact that makes what I’m about to admit considerably more embarrassing.
For 51 years, I have completely misunderstood the beginning of this song.
For all these years, I thought the opening went something like, “when they woke up to find her lying beside my bed,” followed by “ I softly said, come take me.” Creepy.
I envisioned a corpse and her murderer….But l was okay with that.
Again, just so we are clear, in the little movie that has been playing unquestioned in my head since approximately 1975, someone has discovered the body beside his bed, the authorities have arrived, and Neil is calmly accepting his fate: Come take me.
Off to jail he goes.
What’s remarkable is that I never questioned this. I continued listening to what is obviously a beautiful, deeply romantic love song without ever wondering why Neil Diamond had chosen to begin it with a homicide.
This morning, after listening to the song over and over, I finally heard it.
Oh.
It’s “one morning I found her lying beside my bed,” and then he softly says, “come take me.”
Take me.
Not take me into custody.
Take me with you. Take me into your life. Lead me somewhere new.
Suddenly the rest of the song opened up too. The woman has changed the direction of his life. He has chosen another road, one he describes as “thorned and narrow.” And the refrain I have always loved— “come play me”, this idea of one person being the song and the other asking to be played—becomes an act of surrender.
It’s beautiful. It’s also a bit corny. Maybe that’s why I was fine with the murder.
And it only took an English teacher 51 years to figure it out.
I think there’s something wonderful about discovering that a piece of art you have known for most of your life can still surprise you. We hear words through whatever story we first attach to them, and sometimes that story becomes so familiar that we stop hearing the actual words at all.
Then, one morning, we listen again.
I’m writing Neil Diamond a letter.
I feel he deserves to know that for most of my life I have loved his beautiful song while simultaneously believing that it begins with a corpse and a confession.
I’m happy to finally have it straight.
And I think I love the song even more now that I have realized nobody died.
Literally, anyway.
What about you? Is there anything in your life that you have misunderstood until recently?
CLR 2026
These are some very early rocks of mine. Neil Diamond and some women. I wondered, which one did he murder and how did he get away with it? Not really. But these are from 2019 ish. That’s true!