
About the song
There’s something magnetic about the way “Read ’Em and Weep” unfolds — part confession, part plea, part open wound. When Barry Manilow recorded this song in 1983, he wasn’t just singing; he was feeling every word, every tremor, every moment of heartbreak carved into the lyrics. Originally written by Jim Steinman (the genius behind Meat Loaf’s grand rock epics), the song found a new life in Manilow’s hands — transformed from theatrical power into raw, emotional truth.
This isn’t a quiet love song. It’s an explosion of regret and longing, drenched in that unmistakable 80s grandeur — the soaring strings, the pounding piano, the cinematic rise that only Manilow could make feel both larger than life and deeply personal. It’s about the words we don’t say until it’s too late. About love that slipped through your fingers, even though it was the only thing that ever felt real.
You can almost hear the desperation in his voice — the kind that comes from trying to explain your heart when words have already failed you. “I’ll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past…” It’s not just poetry. It’s a confession of someone still haunted by what they couldn’t make right.
Listening to “Read ’Em and Weep” today is like standing in front of an old photograph — the one you thought you’d forgotten, but it still knows your heart. It’s for anyone who ever wished they could turn back time, rewrite a goodbye, or finally say the words that were left unspoken.
And that’s what Barry Manilow did best. He didn’t just sing love songs — he sang the spaces between them. “Read ’Em and Weep” isn’t just a ballad; it’s a storm of emotion that reminds us love, even when lost, always leaves a mark worth reading.
