Category: Rock and/or Roll

In 2014, I wrote a song cycle called, “One Long Year,” a set of songs chronicling the unraveling of the narrator’s life over the course of a year. It has only seen the light of day in demo form. I hope to change that sometime next year with a performance by the St. Sinner Orchestra. In the meantime, I’ve never been quite satisfied with the opening song, so this morning I gave it another try. This new one is more poetic and ethereal–which is where the song cycle ends. It feels like it might be able to introduce and frame the song cycle well. Feel free to compare it to the previous opening song, listen to it in context of the larger song cycle, and offer feedback.

 Raindrops explode and combine;
they stream down windowpanes in the night.
Cars pass in brief bursts of headlights;
shine like stars falling from night skies.
   We’re holding on for dear life.

Warm breath, exhaled, intertwined;
this breath is it yours? Is it mine?
Can two hearts resonate, synchronize?
As the universe keeps time
   we’re holding on for dear life.

This night will never end.

As I came home from church today, I vowed that I would keep the Sabbath by doing something creative (i.e. re-creation), but not something that was work (a fine line when writing music is your work). The result is a song based on a line I sang into my phone a few weeks ago, “All the things that you can’t change.” It feels like there’s something still to be done with this, but for now, I’m happy to have gotten back in touch with the joy and immediacy of simply writing what’s on my mind.

There’s only silence when you wake.
You breathe the air, but it is thick.
You don’t know if you’ll ever sing again;
You don’t remember how it felt.

Because everything has changed.
Your little life came to an end.
It wasn’t much, but it was all you had
And all that’s left is sad.

Everything’s broken that could break
You took everything that you could take.
Wished you’d been good instead of trying to be great.
But you will be okay.
    It will be all be all right someday.

All the things that you can’t change;
All the things you can’t forget;
All the demons that have been with you so long
That they start to feel like friends:
    It will all be all right someday.

Now you think that it’s the end,
But it’s never just the end.
You don’t know what, but it’s about to begin
And it will be beautiful in its own way.
    It will all be all right someday.

I’ve had a sketch of this song hanging around for a few weeks now. I think it started with an Evernote dictation that said, “We all want to be loved, but we’re afraid of being known.” (Does it count as texting and driving if you’re writing song lyrics?) I’ve been chewing on this idea that humans have a simultaneous desire for intimacy and fear of the vulnerability it requires. I kept coming back to words like “void,” “abyss,” and “chasm” as metaphors for the emptiness we fear in a life without love. At first, the chorus was going to be, “We’re all holding on, slipping into the void.” But in the end, I decided “sinking like a stone” was the best way to name the bottomless pit from the rock’s point of view.

But the draft lay unfinished until yesterday when someone told me that humans possess three fundamental fears: abandonment, being smothered, and ceasing to exist. With that, I knew the way forward, with a verse addressing each fear.

As noted elsewhere, I find it very effective to pair depressing lyrics with chipper music. Not only does it save the whole thing from self-indulgent pity, but it creates an artistic tension that sneaks up on you. The existential angst suddenly reveals itself while you’re bopping your head to the beat. The harpsichord and accordion seal the deal.

1. We all want to be loved,
but we’re afraid to be alone.
We offer up our souls,
but still it’s not enough.

Our need, it only grows.
We’re terrified
of being left alone
with nothing but this hole:

Sinking like a stone.

2. We all want to be loved,
but we’re afraid of being known.
Naked and exposed,
we’ll always hide ourselves.

So don’t get too close;
the intimacy’s too much.
We’re vulnerable to touch;
it opens wide the soul:

Sinking like a stone.

3. We all want to be loved;
We’re afraid we’ll disappear.
Love, and pain, and fear
are better than nothing at all.

We all feel the void.
We’re all hanging on
For dear life, lest we fall
Into those dark jaws:

Sinking like a stone.

We all want to be loved,
But we’re afraid..