I got a piano! And this is the first song I wrote on it. I started with the first line and just tried to follow it through without too much analyzing. As I moved into the third verse (“she got lost to find her way”), I began to think about my grandmother who for the past few years has been living with increasing dementia. The song isn’t specifically about her, but in retrospect I think she’s there throughout. (Here’s a song I wrote for her 80th birthday if you’d like to see and learn a little more about her.)
So she sang to hear the tune
She waited all morning for afternoon
And now the evening is drawing soon
All in the twinkling of an eye
We are birds that none can tame
Wild-haired children lost in our game
Moths drawn to circle eternal flames
All for a moment in the sun
We turn on an axis of wishes and prayers
While we hope against hope for the best
We dance till we can’t keep our feet on the ground
Till we float like a very last breath
She got lost to find her way
Abandoned the order of yesterday
And left her memories as they lay
All in a jumble in her mind
Oh the wind is in the trees
She cradles their seedlings upon her breeze
And where she lays them there they will be
All in the dark before the dawn
If week 34 of #songaweek2018 hadn’t been during summer vacation, I would probably have taken the time to multi-track this song. Would have loved to get some juicy vocal layers in there, but instead I contented myself with wailing through a live take. It was enough, and left time to play games and go to the lake with my kids while we soak up these last days before school starts again.
The suggested theme was “verdict,” so that’s the title. Because the song is sort of about, “what’s the ultimate thing we have to say about everything?” Or if you prefer, “what’s it all about?” Or “where’s it all headed?” For a serious-minded person who spends a serious amount of time contemplating death and the cosmos, I have this inimitable weed-like hope. It’s a weed like some sort of wildflower, dying back and disappearing for months at a time, but then inevitably springing up again, even bursting into colorful flower when the season is right.
Autumn is coming, and I know my mood will deepen and darken along with the days. But hope, like all living things, needs to sleep now and then, and I’ll hold on and stand guard while she’s out cold.
And if I spend the end just running from the dark
And if I keep my deepest love choked in my heart
Why do the stars still shine at night?
And if I hold my cold desire like a curse
And shun the sunlight from my meager universe
What is this breath that fills my hungry lungs
This song that rises from my thirsty tongue?
Aah . . .
And when it all is bound to fall like dying leaves
And bonds we make are sure to break like brittle trees
Why do the seeds keep taking root?
And if these years will end in tears and certain loss
and when I keep the faith it leads me to a cross
What is this hope that grows inside my bones
This love that stretches out to the unknown?
Aah . . .
There is a siren in my mind compelling me
It’s like a word that I once heard –
before I learned to speak
Aah . . .
So it all started when my husband Nathan put on an album our daughter Luthien made when she was maybe seven, with her band “Luthien and the Awesome Band.” While now-teenager Luthien groaned with embarrassment, we her proud parents reminded her she was only seven and this was a very fun glimpse into the beginnings of her creative life (check out this song she wrote and performed entirely by herself last week!).
When the album was over, my younger child Silas said, “hey Mom, let’s start a band! I’ll sing and you can write songs for me to sing.” Realizing this could dovetail nicely with my #songaweek2018 project, I agreed.
I’m not sure I had ever written a song for someone else to sing before, and it wasn’t easy. I think I was too focused on Silas himself, his personality, his likes and dislikes. So I wrote a cheesy-silly song for him to sing about being a vegetarian (a decision he made on his own when he was five) with a little bit of running thrown in.
“Mom, I’m not going to sing that,” he responded.
To which I sheepishly replied, “yeah, I don’t blame you.”
Then I asked him, what if we write a song together? He wasn’t sure about that. Wouldn’t it take a long time? No, I told him, if you’ve got something good rolling, it doesn’t often take more than an hour, might even be more like twenty minutes.
“But I don’t know what to write about,” he sighed. “How do you get ideas?”
Just then we heard the ice cream truck coming up the street, playing “Lullaby,” its pitch shifting as it drove past and away. My kids (and probably most kids!) have always thought that Doppler effect makes ice cream trucks seem a little creepy.
“What about the ice cream truck? How about we write a song about that?” I suggested.
Silas looked at me a little dubiously and then almost instantly launched into, “here it comes, down the street, the demented ice cream truck,” to the tune of “Lullaby.”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “That’s perfect!”
“But we can’t steal that tune,” Silas said.
Oh but we could. And I explained the glories of public domain to my middle-schooler.
So with the frame of an old tune, Silas set to work writing lyrics. He sat at the computer and typed in the lyrics while I sat behind him and played the song on the guitar to help keep him on track. I contributed some of the lines and ideas and helped massage some lines to fit, but the general thrust of the song and most of the lyrics came pretty directly from Silas.
And it all took about twenty minutes!
So here it is, my song for week 33, cowritten with my fun-loving wordsmith son Silas Bloom:
And here are the lyrics exactly as he typed them:
Here it comes down the street the demented ice-cream truck
Selling kids icecream shaped like cartoons. If you stray too close they will suck out your soul. But other wise it’s a jolly good time.
There it goes up the road making boat loads of money.
Be careful they’ll get mad if you stand there too long. Then they might leave the block cuz time is money and there rent on the truck is almost overdo.
It’s not even a truck it’s really more of a van
With some speakers and a freezer and a driver slash cashier you may call it what you like but you better beware they will catch your credit card and will make you go broke.
Death to squirrels. At least when they’re in Cody J. Dogg’s back yard. I let my dog co-write (OK, inspire) week 31’s song for #songaweek2018. In which the suggested theme was “death.”
It was a busy week with not a lot of time for writing or recording, so this is pretty rough but I too was on the job and got it done for another week!
I can see you sneaking around my back yard
I feel my hackles rise up with a growl in my throat
And that woman glares and shouts my name
But she’s in mortal danger and she doesn’t know
I’m on the job
I’m on the job
I’m on the job
So you better run
I know sooner or later she’ll open that door
You know I’m quivering with the thrill of the chase
And I’ll be off like a shot fired right at you
I’m gonna knock you down and tear off your face
I’m on the job
I’m on the job
I’m on the job
So you better run
You think you’re really something
cause you got away last time
But one of these days
I’m gonna get you
I’m on the job
I’m on the job
I’m on the job
So you better run
These days it feels like everything’s for sale and getting more expensive. Even as some things actually get cheaper financially, we’re all paying higher prices with the health and well-being of our shared life on this planet.
But that’s not entirely true. So much around us is just given, generously and constantly, day after day, night after night. No strings attached. And yet we would benefit by paying something for these gifts – attention.
The sky’s all yours for the looking
The birds all round you are singing for free
No strings attached
No strings attached
The ground’s all yours for the walking
and running and jumping and kicking up heels
No strings attached
No strings attached
Fly . . .
Fly . . .
The night’s all yours for the dreaming
The moon and stars keep shining for free
No strings attached
No strings attached
The rock’s all yours for the climbing
The trees and mountains and fences and walls
The world’s all yours for the wandering
Your life’s all yours for the living
No strings attached
No strings attached