Another Week, Another Attempt at Cohesion

I apologize for leaving you all hanging last week. I had a rough week, and it took most of it to get back on track. I should be good to go this next week with a whole new slate of activity. In the meantime, here are some lyrical sketchings I did a little bit ago. I call them sketchings, because usually the way lyrics work for me is that I have an idea, then I sort of free-verse off of it, before we (the band) write an instrumental part and fit them together. Usually in that fitting together, words get dropped, added, changed, etc. It's more fluid than I would've thought, but in any case, what you're seeing is essentially the free-verse version of the idea, pre-music. Thus, some bits obviously don't work wonderfully as poetry or song at the moment, but I'll decide what I like or not about it later. I think it's got some decent ideas though, and I thought you might like a glimpse into the process. Comments are welcome.

Goodnight, Captain.

I’ve been here a long long while,

I’ll be here a little more,

but ‘till morning light streams through the pane,

Goodnight.

I spoke to a woman yesterday,

she said,

“fell in love the other day,

his name is David, he’s my man

we’ll spend our whole life together

and build our house on a hill.

The children will run and play

among the trees, in the fields

the heavens will smile down,

and we’ll be happy there together.

What is it that makes me dream

always dream

what makes everything tick

makes the gears move and the cogs go

round and round and round and round.

Captain, I know you’re there

could you speak up?

I can’t hear you over the clamor

so many people shouting

they don’t know what it is they want.

Once, upon this little old time,

there was a prince,

he spoke with unequaled grace,

in measured pace,

He said,

“Ye warriors bold and brash,

climb the mountains,

through valleys thunder,

spread my power throughout the earth

set my might against the sky!”

What is it winds us up

always wound tight,

what makes everything tick

makes the gears move and the cogs go

round and round and round and round.

Captain, I know you’re there

could you speak up?

I can’t hear you over the clamor

so many people shouting

they shout and rail against the wall.

I dreamt a dream the other day,

it was morning,

the shadows peeled away as

bright light burned the dew

I was speechless then, as now,

surrounded by golden hue

and your voice poured into the trench,

the foxhole din subsided and

you held out your hand smiling, and said

Johnny, we’re marching home.

Captain, I know you’re there

you’ve been here through it all.

I’ve trusted you ‘til now, and

now we’re going home.

at last we’re going home.

Goodmorning, Captain.

I’ve been here a long long while,

I’ll be here a little more,

but now morning light streams through the pane,

at last I’m going home.