A new song was born
Finished a new song this past Friday night. Very early in the morning. Played it solo the next night at Donkey, and I think it works very well. (Sadly, the rest of the Ghostrunners weren't able to play. 'Twas a show that wasn't.) Someone there (one of about 8 total people, +/- 2) said it was her new favorite. That's always a good thing, right? It's called Give Me My Money Back for now. We'll see what the other boys think of it at practice tomorrow night.
Aiye. I wish songwriting came to me the way it used to. Lyric writing, to be more precise. I ain't got no mo flo, ya know? What's a bro to do?
(Did you just read "bro to doh"? Man, I hope so...)
Aiye. I wish songwriting came to me the way it used to. Lyric writing, to be more precise. I ain't got no mo flo, ya know? What's a bro to do?
(Did you just read "bro to doh"? Man, I hope so...)
posted by Patrick at 10:47 PM
6 Comments:
Woah! If those are the lyrics to Patrick's "Give Me My Money Back" and not some zealous...fan?...I will be really excited.
Sorry I haven't seen you guys in a while. Logan-Hocking Middle School owns me.
Alas, those are not the words to the song, though they certainly seem to be the words to some kind of song, and a damn fine one at that.
[dons his reading spectacles]
My only complaint is that the singer seems to be responding overly harsh to someone who only wants to slow down and have some space. The singer's anger is apparent, but we, as his (or her?) audience are left desiring more information about the intimacies of their relationship. What is the significance of the black t-shirt? Why did s/he give her/him the black t-shirt in the first place? Why is it important that s/he get the t-shirt back? The question we are left to ask is, "Singer, are you upset because your date paid you the discourtesy of eating a meal at your expense, when s/he knew s/he knew was going to dump you, or are you upset because the depth of connection that you felt for your beloved was unrequited, indeed, tossed aside like a cheap carnation?"
[removes his reading spectacles]
I just wanted to write s/he a bunch. I hate that s/he-it.
Actually, as overheard at Emerson Lanes in Parkersburg, W.Va., circa 1997, it's
"Give me my DOLLAR back, bitch."
Ah, damn, "dollar." My bad.
I'm with ya Adam.
I've seen that movie.
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