
About the song
There are songs that simply play, and then there are songs that speak. Barry Manilow’s “Read ’Em and Weep” belongs to the latter. It’s not just a melody—it’s a confession, a late-night letter written with trembling hands and too many unspoken words. Originally penned by Jim Steinman, the same mind behind Meat Loaf’s grand, theatrical hits, this song finds new life in Manilow’s voice—a blend of ache, elegance, and restrained power.
From the first note, there’s a haunting intensity. You can feel the weight of memories pressing through every lyric. “I’ve been trying to get closer, but I’m still a million miles away…” It’s a line that could break your heart if you’ve ever loved someone too deeply, too silently. Manilow’s delivery isn’t showy—it’s tender, vulnerable. He doesn’t just sing the words; he lives them, as though he’s standing in front of someone who’s already walked away, pleading for one last chance to be understood.
Released in the early ’80s, “Read ’Em and Weep” carries that signature power-ballad sound of the era—lush orchestration, cinematic build-up, and lyrics that read like poetry written under a dim lamp. But beneath the grand production, there’s something deeply human: regret. The kind that doesn’t fade with time, the kind you quietly carry.
What makes this song so timeless is its honesty. Barry doesn’t just perform—he lets you in. He makes you feel that familiar ache of realizing the right words always come too late. Whether you’re sitting by the window on a rainy night or revisiting an old photograph, “Read ’Em and Weep” is that song you put on when you need to feel understood, even if it hurts.
It’s heartbreak wrapped in melody, confession wrapped in music. And somehow, it still feels beautiful.
