Songs

When the Music

April 12, 2016 — 2 Comments

For week 14 of #songaweek2016, an extra challenge was thrown out to anyone who wanted to try it – use three particular words in the song. Those who wanted to participate sent a word of their choice to one person, who then wrote all those words on a sheet of paper, cut it up, put the words in a hat, and chose three at random. And the winning words were:

Valparaiso
Socks
Moxy

I wrote this song very much stream-of-consciousness with those three words in mind. Except the last verse, which was inspired by a motorcycle ride and a weekend road trip with my love. Who, by the way, came up with some pretty fine bass and guitar additions, as well as pulling together a tasty drum track from our Studio One software.

As always, there is lots of great listening for you at the songaweek2016 website, and you might especially enjoy hearing all the different songs that came out of the 3-word challenge in Week 14. I haven’t finished listening through the list yet but from what I can tell so far, challenge-accepters were Jen Bluhm, Phil Cowan, Anielle Reid, Deborah Kelly, and James Tristan Redding. So fun to hear the different directions people took it.

For all I know he’s in Valparaiso
kissing some other girl
for all he cares I could be standing there
it wouldn’t even faze him

That’s when the music comes to me
That’s how the music sets me free

Would you eat it with a fox in socks?
Take a brave new bite
Chase it down with moxy on the rocks
It’s a bold concoction

That’s when the music comes to you
That’s how the music feels brand new

Honey take me back to Loveland
on your motorcycle
With the Badlands in our mirrors
we’re alright for now

That’s when the music comes alive
That’s how the music feels inside

 

 

Ring All the Bells

March 26, 2016 — 2 Comments

Week 12 of #songaweek2016 already! I did a rough a cappella song this time, especially for Easter:

Ring all the bells that ever were, and are, and ever shall be

All that is fading, dying, falling, will land upon the light

Let the frozen thaw, let the dry seeds crack, let the ancient ones be born

All that is waiting, crying, calling, will make it through the night.

Everything that flies on broken wings

Everything that sorrowfully sings

Everything that hurts with hope and love

Everything that’s aching to become

Everything will breathe

everything will be

Speak every name that ever was and is and ever shall be

All that’s been hushed, ignored, forgotten, remembers the way home

Let the truth be told, let the tyrant rest, bring the wounded warrior peace

All that is crushed, war-torn, downtrodden, will rise from patient stone

Everything that flies on broken wings

Everything that sorrowfully sings

Everything that hurts with hope and love

Everything that’s aching to become

Everything will breathe

everything will be

Daylight Saving Time (Marching On)

March 22, 2016 — Leave a comment

We sprang forward last week. Because that’s what we do. I wrote this song on a gorgeous spring day, and recorded it on a snowy cold one. Ah, March.

Anyhoo, here it is, my song for week 11 of #songaweek2016.

the light and the birds are coming back

kids and the dog rolling in the grass

guess we’re happy here for another year

eggs in the coop laundry on the line

a fine-looking man who’s mine all mine

I’m a satisfied one for another month

tuck an hour away

get it back someday

pizzas in the oven, beer in the fridge

we’ll take a Friday night flight in the TARDIS

sweet sigh of relief for another week

the outside’s breezing through the house

blue sky getting scrubbed with fluffy clouds

think we’ll be okay for another day

tuck an hour away

get it back someday

marching, marching,

time keeps marching on

Still Moving

March 16, 2016 — 4 Comments

In spite of everything, I still believe . . .

Here’s my song for week 10 of #songaweek2016.

You’re the wind and

I’m the good girl

trying to keep her skirt in place

You’re the music

I’m the stoic

fighting the urge to dance

you are the light

but I’m trying to hide

You’re the bread and wine but I have to fast

you’re the question I’m afraid to ask

you’re the letting go, I can’t hold you in my grasp

but over, under, and right through everything

your still small voice still calls

You’re the road and I’m the traveler

you lay your body down

you make a way through wilderness

draw me to the next horizon

spread your spirit out

You’re the paper I’m the pen

you give me space to think

let me bleed all over you

and you wear the mess like it means something

You’re the wave and I’m the sand

I’m trying to stand firm

but you keep on changing me