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Showing posts with label Songs I wrote. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Songs I wrote. Show all posts

Monday, January 29, 2018

Doing a College Assignment


Alex sent me a text and asked for help for one of assignments for his music class. He has to write a blues song. I immediately thought of "Poor Musician Swingin'" and said I'd send him what I wrote way back in 1992.

Maybe there’s something below that will help …
-----------------------------
Poor Musician Swingin'
by Hanson/Schmitt
I'm broke
It's nothing new
Every time I get a paycheck
I give it to you
Say you gotta buy bread
That's okay
Give you my money
Why shouldn't I sleep all day

Poor musician swingin'
With someone naggin'
Poor musician swingin'
With my poor butt saggin'
Sleep all day . . . I swing at night

She left
She'll be back
It's nothing crazy
Just a swing attack
She'll survive
So will I
Playin', swingin'
Until I die
Wrote 8/25/1992 with my friend Ken in Sally Drive Studios
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Every Day Ordinary Life Blues
by Hanson/Schmitt
Boss is breathin' down my neck
Said son, "What's the matter with you?"
This job is getting to me
I need something different to do

Took a day off work
To enjoy life
Walked in the park
Mugged by a guy with a knife

Read newspaper of a crisis
In some distant land
Went back to work to escape
I still couldn't understand

Life is supposed to be tough
I know that to be true
But I have one too many
Things I have to do

I wonder when I try
To kiss the sky
It stays the same color
And life becomes a bit duller . . .
-----------------------------
Bad News
In the morning
I'll wake to find you gone
So I'll live
I'll find a way to go on
So when you leave
Don't take my key
And when he leaves you
Don't come cryin' to me

Cuz you've been hurting yourself
With the lies you tell
And if you wouldn't believe them
You'd still go to hell
Cuz you're bad news
Never a sight for sore eyes
Cuz you're bad news
You give me the blues . . .

You never smile
Unless you're taken out to eat
You like to lie
And say that you're just beat
You don't know
What you're talking about
And if he calls to ask
I'll give him reason to doubt
Wrote 9/2/1992
Gum Blues
Gum sticky and sweet
You make me complete
But one bad habit you do, I've seen you too
You stick to me like I'm made out of glue

You know I thought if I tried
I'd get you off my mind
But everywhere I look
I see remains of the tears you cried
There was a time in my life when I needed you
I had to believe your lies were true
Now the sun is brighter, I can see a new day
And I'm so glad I didn't invite you to stay

Gum, you're so sticky and sweet
Now you're gone, my life is complete
Gum, I don't think about you
I hope you don't think about me too.

Wrote 6/21/1993
When I showed these lyrics to Ken Schmitt, he gave me this look like, "Where in the world did you come up with this stuff?"
-----------------------------------------------------
Right In The Face
Think you got a method
I know you don't got a plan
Puttin' on your killer instinct
Searchin' for a man
But I'm here, right in your face
Open your eyes, I'm right in your face
You don't know a good thing
When it's staring at you . . . right in the face

I saw you last night
Out on the town
When I motioned to you
You looked down
I was your spark
The start of a fire
Did you forget the dark
Unleashed your desire

I'm a good thing honey
I'm right in your face
Don't ask for your money
I'm right in your face
Wrote 10/11/1993
------------------------------------
Concrete Shoes Blues
I've been tryin' baby
Tryin' to get back to you
But I don't seem to move
No matter what I do
I've been tryin' baby
But I can't seem to move back to you

Concrete shoes blues
They hold me still
Concrete shoes blues
They control my will
Nothing will make them go away
They're with me everyday
The concrete shoes blues
Drive me away

Since you said goodbye
I've waited for you
But if you're looking for me, you ain't looked hard enough
I tried to call you
You're not answering th phone
But your new man was there
I can tell you really care

Concrete shoe blues
Keep me away
Concrete shoe blues
Won't make me stay
Nothing makes them go away
As long as your new man continues to stay . . .
Wrote 1/22/1994
The Way You Are
Looking through the shattered window pane
Unaware of the wind blowing cross my face
I can't see the clouds
Your loving left me blind
I don't know why you treated me so unkind

But I guess that's just
The way you are
Narrow tunnel vision
Serves you best
That's the way you are
Why do you do this pain
Why won't you see the rain . . . makes the sun brighter

Looking at our pictures of smiles and laughs
Seem to mock the pain inside my soul
I can't see the smiles anymore
Your loving is what made me blind
Why did you treat me so unkind
Wrote: 9/8/1994

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Favorite Subject in the Lyrics I Wrote

Years ago, I transcribed 19 spiral notebooks into a RoboHelp project - I think I've described that on this blog elsewhere - and recently, I started poking around the lyrics I wrote. I came across this article - about forgiveness - shortly after I came across these lyrics.

Unable to Think

Authored on 06/16/1993

Two thoughts pounding
Pointing at I . . .
There's no way I can
Forgive this feeling
For visiting me twice
In a short lifetime,
No explanation found.
I return to the Burn, a
Sensation in my stomach,
The kind that festers
With Ignorance as they
Laugh together, joyful
And pleasantly planning
My fall. They'll wait
Until the festering
Increases, too immense
For words or for a
Poet to dominate into words,
Do you understand where
I'm going? The end is . . .
Unable to think.
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Twenty-three in Years

Authored on 02/15/1993

I never can say what I feel
Neither can you

I never can open up to what is real
I can't talk to you
The words fight my instinct
Keep your mouth shut
This is for your own good
Lies I've learned to live with
Reflecting until the sun rises
Thinking about failures
Remembering when I've cried
Knowing why dreams have died . . .
Twenty-three in spineless years.

Note

Saturday 08 05 2006 Unable To Think 19A 06/16/1993 189 About Parents During Engagement
Saturday 08 05 2006 Twenty-three in Years 19A 02/15/1993 189 Twenty-three in spineless years
Transcribed into the RoboHelp project on Saturday, August 05, 2006

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Falling Apart

Is it all falling apart
What was so strong
Is it all falling apart
Too short, too long
Is it all falling apart
Days end into nights
Is it all falling apart
Turn off all the lights

In the haze of the past
Seeing what should last
Commit me to you
My heart remains true
Not the beginning
Not the end
A constant reminder
Do not bend

Is it all falling apart
Days end into nights
Is it all falling apart
Turn off the lights
Is it all falling apart
What was so strong
Is it all falling apart
Too short, too long

Since I've been this way
Since I've asked to stay
Since you've been away
Since I began this long and lonely day...

[pause]

I used to write lyrics like this and filled up 19 spiral notebooks. Not all of them were as awful as the above, but some were worse...

Thursday, October 28, 2010

1 of 16

I vaguely remember this sort of challenge back when I wrote songs. Yes, I was a songwriter. I had visions of being in an all original music band, preferably hard rock or heavy metal, and playing songs that I wrote. I had visions of one of my best friends being my drum roadie, my band headlining the Cedar Rapids, IA, concert hall (US Cellular Center), and 'making it' in the music industry. Teaching high school English was going to be my fallback in the bizarre case that being a rock and roll drummer somehow, inconceivably, didn't work out. I was going to play drums, I was going to have Ludwig drums, Zildjian cymbals, Pro Mark drumsticks, and Remo drum heads. At the time, no one was making clear shell drums, like mine are, and so Ludwig was going to start up production again, just for me, just for my band, and I was going to have a huge double bass set, even though I can not, to this day, really play double bass. That was the plan. That is why I filled 18 spiral notebooks, of various sizes but a few were 200 pages, with songs. I feverishly wrote songs on place mats when I worked at a restaurant. I wrote so many songs that I can only vaguely remember writing some of them - the rest don't seem to have made an impression. I was going to write my heart out and leave it all on the pages. I was going to make my dream of being the next Billy Joel or Sting come through. I was going to write the equivalent of "Operation: Mindcrime" - the great concept album by Queensryche. I was going to write lyrics that would make Rush's Neil Peart think, "Wow! Great lyrics and he plays drums too!" I was going to earn the respect of all these musicians I admired - Lars Ulrich, Tommy Aldridge, Alex Van Halen. And then, I was going to meet the ultimate musician - Eddie Van Halen. He was going to invite me to an audition because Alex was unable to tour due some mysterious ailment. We were going to play arenas around the world - Michael Anthony on bass, Eddie on guitar, me on drums, and David Lee Roth on vocals. That was the plan.

Funny how plans change.

Nearly every thing I wrote about in the first paragraph did not happen. I never will play the US Cellular Center. If anything my friend will be the one in the band and I would be the one setting up his drums. I will never meet any of the musicians I mentioned above. The only thing that is really relevant is a dim memory that I used to write a lot of lyrics.

And, one time, I challenged myself to write a lot of songs in 16 days. That's the whole point.

Bet you thought I didn't have a point...