• Take Me or Leave Me
  • Eva and KK

((KK and I decided to do a Glolly rendition of “Take Me or Leave Me” from Rent. Apologies to RENT lovers and to Lo for our horrible butchering of both.

Also to the person who invented the word “maddening”, which I also butchered. KK played the role of Glen while I played Molly. Lyrics!


Every single day,
I walk down the street
I hear dealers say “ten pound”, so sweet
Ever since puberty
I’ve been doin’ drugs you see
Crack, weed, I can’t help it, sweetheart
So be kind and don’t lose your mind
Just remember that I’m your ‘darling’

Take me for what I am
Who I was meant to be
And if you give a damn
Take me pet
Or leave me

Take me pet or leave me

A moped with no key
Will never move an inch
This boy needs his weed
Pet, just one more pinch!
I am the one you choose
I’ve told you I’m just bad news
You love the scent of it too, now sweetness
So be mine and don’t waste your time
Cryin’ “oh Glenny dear, are you still my, my, my darling?”

Take me for what I am
Who I was meant to be
And if you give a damn
Take me pet, or leave me

No way can I be what I’m not
But hey, we all choose our lot
Don’t fight, don’t lose your head
‘Cause every night, who’s in your bed?
Who’s in your bed?

Spoken: Kiss, pet?


Spoken: It won’t work

Sung: I look before I leap
I love cleanness and discipline
I worry in my sleep, darling
What’s my sin?
Never quit
I follow through
I hate drugs but I love you
What to do with my maddening junkie?
So be wise, 'cause this girl satisfies
You got a prize who don’t criticize
You’re one lucky baby!

Molly: Take me for what I am
Glen: A fickle thing
Molly: Who I was meant to be
Glen: Insecure, and over attentive
Molly: And if you give a damn
Glen: A loveable madwoman
Molly: Take me darling or leave me
Glen: And you’re feckin’ pregnant!

Both: That’s it!
Molly: The straw that breaks my back
Both: I quit!
Molly: Unless you take it back!
(unison) Glen: English!
(unison) Molly: Irish!
Glen: What is it about them?
Both: Can’t live with them or without them!

Both: Take me for what I am
Molly: Who I was meant to be
Glen: Who I was meant to be
And if you give a damn
Molly: And if you give a damn you better
Take me honey, or leave me
Glen: Oh, take me pet; take me or leave me!
Both: Take me baby or leave me!
Spoken: Guess I’m leaving. I’m gone!

Jingle Bell Rock

“Ye’re working on Christmas?”

Molly looked up from the stack of papers on the borrowed desk to see Glen slowly sitting up from bed to stare at her, incredulous. She pointed to her phone, where a little calendar glowed dimly. The screen displayed 24.12.12, 5:13 AM. “Christmas eve,” she corrected, “and barely. I don’t just stop being the head morgue attendant when we walk into Heathrow.”

“Christmas, Christmas eve,” he replied, moving over to her and picking up the papers. A bunch of scribbles about stiffs, as far as the Irishman was concerned. “Sure they’re both holidays.” Molly grabbed at the papers, which he easily held out of her reach.

“Glen, come on, I need those,” she hissed, well aware that it was the middle of the night and they were the only two awake. Glen grinned at her.

“Not until after the holidays. Maybe New Years, if you’re good.” Molly blanched, making another desperate leap for the papers. It took only a small step back on Glen’s part to keep her from attaining her goal, and she took a moment to inwardly groan about her taste for tall men. Glen backed through the door, waving the papers enticingly. Mind on the prize, Molly gave chase, following him into the small living room. There they stopped on either side of the Christmas tree, as though it was a fence. 

Molly glared at Glen. Glen smirked at Molly. Then he turned the radio on with a flourish, causing her to freeze as quiet Christmas music filled the room.

“Do you want to wake the whole house?” she breathed, aghast. Glen set the papers on a nearby table, knowing they would be all but forgotten in light of this new horror.

“Just yourself,” he told her, holding his hand out. She looked from his hand to the radio (now playing a lively violin tune) and back again. 

“You’re mad,” she told him flatly. He sighed quietly, but his smile didn’t waver. The hand stayed outstretched.

“You’ve been working yourself half t’ death. You deserve a little fun.”

Molly turned away from him, hugging herself and biting down a smile. She wondered if he could tell when her will was weakening, or if he just had really good luck. “I’m mad.” She spun back towards him and took his hand, allowing him to pull her close. He smelled like smoke and alcohol and home.

“Y’like to dance,” was his response, before carefully whirling her away only to draw her back to him.

“You like to smile,” was hers as she spun under his arm. They kept it simple, mindful of the lack of space, the conditions of the woman, and the sleeping inhabitants of the household. By the time they were finished, Molly was out of breath and laughing quietly, and Glen was grinning loosely. He sank onto the couch, pulling her down to his side.

“I love you,” she whispered, hazel eyes fluttering closed. Glen stroked her hair with a smile.

“Aye. Merry Christmas, pet.”