Don't tell anybody the secrets I told you.

"Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" by Lucinda Williams is an amazing album, filled with songs that move and touch and inspire and provoke. But I think that one song stands above the others -- "Metal Firecracker." See and listen via YouTube

There's just something raw and striking about her plea in the lyrics, as she recounts how she has gone from from being in her lover's blood, from being the object of obsession, to being, well, nothing -- she doesn't ask to have him come back to her, or for him to reconsider, or for the keys to her house, or for the gifts she's given. Nope. She just wants her secrets to remain, well, secret.

Who could argue with that? We all have those secrets, those bits of our intimate self that we share with others. Lucinda's singing about secrets shared with a lover (and, oh, what imagery she uses in her lyrics to describe the relationship -- who here hasn't driven fast with a lovah in the passenger seat while "La Grange" was blasting?), but we do the same thing with friends, too. And there is something about the supposed anonymity of the internet that leads us into sharing maybe even more with our Imaginary Friends than we share with our real life friends, or our spouses/significant others.

(Translation -- please, Imaginary Friend, don't reveal that I cried at the end of "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle." Thanks.)