Dale Connelly: And now for song analysis, here's our living and loving correspondent, B. Marty Barry.

Jim Ed Poole: Thank you ... That was lovely. Touching. Now let's take it apart, OK?

Neal: We don't think there's anything wrong with the song. Right, Leandra?

Leandra: (too-long pause) Yeah, I'm happy with it.

JEP: What about the line "We don't have to say 'I Love You' ... " etcetera? Presenting that as an obligation, a chore ... "We don't have to ..." Doesn't that say something about the frame of mind of the person who wrote the song, and their attitude towards showing affection? Hmm?

Leandra: Neal wrote the song.

JEP: Why not say "We don't get to say 'I Love You' "? Or ... "We are not frequently enough afforded the opportunity to say 'I Love You' "?

Neal: That's not how you write a song. It's clumsy. And if you change that line you violate the ... uh ...

Leandra: Internal logic.

Neal: Yeah! ... because "we don't have to say" sets up the part where we say "Old Love just goes without saying."

JEP: Goes. Do you mean "goes" as in "goes along" or "goes away"?

Neal: Um ... goes along. Right?

Leandra: Goes along, goes away, it doesn't matter. We still say it anyway.

Neal: Right. That's the point. We still say it, so who cares?

JEP: But you said earlier that you don't say it.

(sfx: flipping papers on clipboard)

"We don't have to say 'I Love You' quite as often as we used to ..." blah blah blah ... so forth and so on ... "But we still say it anyway."

So ... you see this confessing of love as a chore that you're happy you're no longer required to do ... you boast about it, in fact, but then you go ahead and say it anyway ... which sounds confusing and self-defeating and very bitter ... to me.

Neal: Now just a darn minute ...

JEP: I think there's a charade going on. There's a lot of wishful thinking in this song and not much honesty.

Neal: That's not true. It's very honest. Deeply honest.

JEP: (sigh) Leandra ... the part under the willow tree?

Leandra: (she knows what's coming) Yes?

JEP: You laughed at all his stories? Every last one of them was an absolute stitch?

Leandra: (thoughtful) In a manner of speaking, yes.

Neal: In a manner of speaking?

JEP: Not really, then?

Leandra: I liked him. A lot. I wanted him to like me. So ... you show a sort of hyper-appreciation ... you know?

Neal: Hyper-appreciation?

Leandra: (quickly) The appreciation is real, OK? You just ... magnify it.

JEP: (satisfied) That's what I'm talking about!

Neal: So you were giving me a phony laugh?

Leandra: Not phony. Amplified.

Neal: All these years and I never knew the truth!

JEP: Ah, truth! That's what we're working towards. An Old Love that is full of truth. And when I hear you sing this song ... I'm thinking that I'm not hearing ... the truth.

Leandra: Seriously ... the love in this song is true.

JEP: Let's focus on the "old" part, then.

When you wrote this, you weren't very old. But now you're getting old singing this song.

Neal: You got that right.

JEP: I want to hear more about that ... about getting old, feeling old, acting old, being cranky and tired and fed up with your obligations and routines ...

Neal: I don't know if I can put that in this song.

JEP: Sure you can, but you don't have to. I've done it for you. I know all about boredom and whining and it fit right in. Here are the new lyrics. This may not be exactly how you feel, but it will "prime the pump" and get you closer to your core "truth."

Leandra: You want us to sing this?

JEP: As an exercise. Part of your therapy.

"Mold Love"

We're singing Old Love.
Can you tell it's getting old, love?
Something we have heard enough of.
Gets requested every day.

We still sing it 'cause we have to.
You can't hate it more than we do.
Like a jukebox that's left playing
But we still sing it, anyway.

Neal:
Here I let my mind go wandering.
I'm so bored and uninvolved.
The creative juice I'm squandering.
Even chimpanzees evolved.

I can feel my brain dissolving.
Hard to think this once was new.
It only seems to take a lifetime.
I need a nap. How 'bout you?

Both:
We've got an old love
The longest story ever told, Love.
A silver hair among the gold, love.
So we put it on display.

People think we must be happy,
'Cause we sing a song this sappy.
But we're just grateful to be paying
All the bills that Old Love pays.

Neal:
I'm getting lumpy as a pillow.
I'm feeling crusty as a pie.
The first ten thousand times I sang it
I was still a youthful guy.

Now I'm turning gray and frazzled.
And my chin sags like a tarp
But in spite of losing hair,
So glad we're still a pair
Both old enough for AARP.

And we're looking Old, Love.
Less a pixie, more a troll, love.
Lost my naval in a fold, love
Didn't need it anyway.

And when I hear you say "I Love You"
Feel more grateful than I used to
Like mold, love grows as we're decaying
It just gets bigger every day.

Like mold, love grows as we're decaying
It just gets bigger every day.