Weren't We

As promised.

I hope you all had a lovely weekend - the last full one of August.  Crazy.  My Sunday was spent at a pig roast with a bunch of chefs (please excuse the passive voice), and it was lovely.

Except that one of them looked exactly - and I mean EXACTLY - like somebody that I used to know, only with dark hair (actually making him even more my type than his blonder doppelgänger).  And I felt bad for becoming instantly withdrawn upon being introduced to him, because obviously he didn't know the history there, and he had no way of knowing that I'm not usually that way, or that just seeing him look so much like someone I used to fruitlessly love was breaking me apart all over again.

So while all that was happening, I just said, "Hi, nice to meet you," after which he walked off with his girlfriend, and I limped off after my sister, having slammed my foot into a sharp, painful something a little while before.  (It's still swollen.)

But aside from that, it was really a nice - not to mention delicious - way to spend the last Sunday in August.

And now let me move on, to discuss the song you are about to read (unless, of course, you've already closed the window in which this blog appeared on your Internet browser and haven't gotten this far).  It's called, as you have probably noticed, "Weren't We."

When I originally thought of the song (sometime in March), I meant the choruses (the various "weren't we..."s) to be a way to honour something that used to be.  Something that was really great and wonderful and flawless for a while.  I meant it purely as celebration.

But then I connected it to a first verse I had arbitrarily come up with a week earlier, that fully rhymed upon conception (which is rare), and it took on a whole new meaning.  The "weren't we..."s became a lament, in addition to a celebration, and it was so powerful I was nearly bowled over.  They became a bereavement, a plea, a yearning, but also a sort of reproach, and took on a life of their own that completely overshadowed what I had as the second verse.

So I wrote it (during a Wednesday evening class about the history of the American financial system, I might add), and set it aside, knowing that I wasn't completely satisfied with it.  And then, as I was waiting for the train home and kind of talking to myself, as I do, I pulled out the sheets of paper upon which I write songs (I have about seven, no joke, seven shoved loosely into my folder) and read it over again.  And then I was on the train, surrounded by people who couldn't care less about the internal adventure I was living, when it hit me.  A new "weren't we..." took over what I had already written ("young and joyous" was the original, but then I came down with "invincible / ...bulletproof and beautiful" in place of "weren't we beautiful..." etc) and I suddenly had to sit down - thankfully, at this point, we had hit a station where a lot of people get out - and restructure most of the song.

The train was bumpy, and some of my handwriting came out kind of loopy, but I was on fire.  There were two policemen, I think, standing right by where I was sitting, and I swear they were staring at me in disbelief, because of the way I was scribbling like a madwoman, with my purple pen (of course, I only saw their shoes, but the feeling stands).  But I knew that inspiration had struck my memories like a match, and ignited something amazing I just had to get out on paper, so I didn't care.  By the time I got home, I had one line left to write, and that came to me a little after midnight that same day.  Then, I was spent.  And it was done.

The subject is the same as in "From Across the Room," and "Left Behind," which will be the next post.  Promise.

Weren't We

have you ever noticed how it always rains on Tuesdays,
no matter where we happen to be?
I remember you once saying there's good luck in all the rain,
but now I think I disagree

CHORUS:
weren't we young and joyous?
weren't we young and joyous?
didn't we have the whole world before us?
weren't we invincible?
weren't we invincible?
weren't we bulletproof and beautiful?

it was like slow motion, watching all of that break down
and standing there covered in the dust
I could feel myself suddenly fading into the background
staring at those pieces of us

CHORUS:
weren't we invincible?
weren't we invincible?
weren't we bulletproof and beautiful?
weren't we triumphant?
weren't we triumphant?
didn't we have all that we could want?

BRIDGE:
a part of me will always hurt, a part of me will love,
and most of me will feel that I was never good enough

CHORUS:
weren't we triumphant?
weren't we triumphant?
didn't we have all that we could want?
weren't we young and joyous?
weren't we young and joyous?
didn't we have the whole world before us?

I remember you once saying that nothing can be planned,
and now I think I understand

CHORUS:
weren't we young and joyous?
weren't we young and joyous?
didn't we have the whole world before us?
weren't we invincible?
weren't we invincible?
weren't we bulletproof and beautiful?
weren't we triumphant?
weren't we triumphant?
didn't we have all that we could want?
weren't we young and joyous?
weren't we young and joyous?
didn't we have the whole world before us?
didn't we have the whole world before us?
didn't we have our whole lives before us?

I really like how the phrases rotate from one chorus to another, revealing another different emotional side to the piece.  And I know that's a lot of question marks, but I hope that you'll agree that they were all necessary.  So there it is, and please do let me know what you think.

Much love, and thank you for the musik,

Just Another Ordinary Girl

All that I know is I don't know how to be something you'd miss / never thought we'd have a last kiss / never imagined we'd end like this / your name, forever the name on my lips...

p.s.  Major disclosure:  I like the phrase "pieces of us," from the last line of the second verse, so much, that if I had a record deal that's what I would name my album.  It's a perfect name for a collection of these songs.

Next up, "Left Behind," as I said.

How It Feels

Okay, I know I said I would be back with this post during the weekend (not this past weekend, of course, but the previous one), but please excuse my delay.  Sometimes I give myself a deadline for something, and then willfully surpass it.  It's a horrible habit, I know.  But there it is.

And here is this.  As I mentioned before, this is another song that is not my favourite that I've ever written.  I came up with it last winter, finishing it around 6 December, but something about it has always continued to feel unfinished for me.  I think it's the chorus.

But I'll get to that in a little bit.  First, as usual, I'd like to explain the song itself.  It's not, as I've said, my favourite.  There are parts that kind of make me cringe (as the writer, of course - they probably won't have the same effect on you as the reader, I hope), but at the same time, it also features one of my favourite lines that I've ever written.  So there's that.

I'm posting it now, because it is the first song (chronologically and emotionally), the first piece in which I address the story which prompted tens of other songs (I'm not even exaggerating with that number; I have about thirteen songs lined up to post here that deal with the same exact thing, all in different ways), and as it is not the best one of that group I'd like to get it over with as soon and as quickly as possible.

Not that it's a bad song, of course.  Let me be clear with that.  It's just that there are so many better ones coming up that the difference is very perceptible.

There's a song I will be putting up on here in a few posts that I named, "And Her Name Is Lonely," and I liken this one to a poor man's "And Her Name Is Lonely."  There was a lot of loneliness preempting both songs (as you shall see shortly).  I was extremely lonely last fall, and all during the winter, and very miserable, so my songs verily reflected that.

Excuse me, I've been reading Jane Austen.

So yes, it reflects that greatly.  And that pertains to the favourite line I mentioned above.  I've always loved that line I wrote in "Holding Out For You," in the beginning of the second verse: "but no one ever had a cookie cutter for the rest of your life."  I liked that so much I changed my Twitter handle (is that what usernames are called on there?) to accommodate it.  But the one from this song, the last line of the chorus, definitely rivals that: "but I go off in my car, just to park somewhere and cry."

'Cause that's so where I was last fall.  And I'm good at it, by now.  (Also at driving through tears.  Oh, and with bare feet.  Which apparently is frowned upon?)

So that was the first line, and once I came up with that I had to try and figure out a way to write a song around it.  In the song's early iterations, it was actually known as, "How It Feels (A Stone, Personified)," but then that kind of started to feel pretentious.  I don't think people really expect the word, "personified," to come into their songs.

Anyway, I like that it's more of an abstract thing, in the verses, and then it progresses and comes to an explication, really, of what preceded it, by the time it comes to the chorus.  But all the same, as I've mentioned before, it's almost felt unfinished to me, as though there were something missing in the chorus (and don't even get me started on the bridge, which is kind of lacking in subtlety and originality, I feel).  But there's a pervasive sense of pain and sadness that there's no mistaking.

The verses are definitely my favourite part, aside from the last line of the chorus.  There's just so much there, that exhibits feeling yet transcends the moment.  But I don't know, maybe it's just me.  I went through a lot of edits of the chorus, but sometimes you have to stick with what you already have, even if it's not entirely satisfying, because it might be as good as it'll get.

So here it is.  I'll stop now.

How It Feels

loneliness comes creeping in when you're giving up a fight
the sunrise comes awful early when you've stayed up all night
lately staring out the window takes up so much of my time
and it gets easier to lie each time I tell myself I'm fine

CHORUS:
so this is how it feels, without you in my life
caution and slow motion, second-guessing all the time
I wish I could be cold: a stone, personified,
but I go off in my car, just to park somewhere and cry

the cold and dark come soon after blowing out a flame
and who you were the day before won't ever be the same
now I'm getting used to falling, after we flew too high
because sometimes you walk away, without saying goodbye*

CHORUS:
so this how it feels, without you in my life
caution and slow motion, second-guessing all the time
I wish I could be cold: a stone, personified,
but I go off in my car, just to park somewhere and cry

BRIDGE:
sometimes I wonder if you feel it, too
how cold the world has gotten,
still I can't forget a single thing about you,
even though I'm probably forgotten

CHORUS 2:
I guess this is how it feels, without you in my life
caution and slow motion, second-guessing all the time
I wish I were indifferent: a stone, personified,
then I wouldn't even care that you cheated and lied,
and I could be cold and unbroken, not just pushed aside
instead I go off in my car, just to park somewhere and cry

now I'm here in my car, 'cause I've parked somewhere to cry...

*Anyone catch the brief Crazy Heart tribute in the previous line?  It's meant to be subtle, but noticeable if you've fallen in love with the soundtrack, as I have.  Additionally, in the actual line with the asterisk, I had an issue figuring out if the line should be "without saying goodbye," or "instead of saying goodbye."  Thoughts?  I finally settled on the first, after many scribbles in my notebook, vacillating between one and the other.  I guess I thought it was sadder, but so is the latter one.  Let me know what you think!

Next song I'll post: "Weren't We."  I adore this one.  (From here on out, that's basically how I feel about all of the songs.)  It has a good story behind it, too.

Much love, and thank you for the musik,

Just Another Ordinary Girl

Baby, I was naive, got lost in your eyes, never even had a chance.

Rooftops

This should be a very quick post - but I did want to put up a new one, since I haven't in a while -  because (a) I'm about to catch a flight, and (b) I want to breeze through this song and the next one I will post.  And apparently, brevity will quickly have the song become a distant memory.  (And if you could see how quickly my fingers are flying across this keyboard, you would have no need to doubt my dedication to being quick about this.)  I don't really like this one so much, but I did (somewhat) at the time I was writing it, so there it is.

I think I kind of like the concept, far more than I do the execution of it.  You know what I mean?

This song was inspired (however tangentially) by my second favourite film of all time.  And when I first came up with the idea, I had originally intended to stay a bit more closely to the concept of the film, especially one of the earlier scenes.  Somewhere in the various guises this song has taken since that time, it has taken on a new meaning, a new significance that is more personal than it is voyeuristic. 

In the end, it turned out to be a more difficult song to write, actually.  I had the hardest time figuring out where I wanted to go with it, what I wanted to say, after coming up with the idea.  I had the last two lines of each verse (the same lines) written in mid-January, but something about that just made it impossible to continue - maybe it's because "below" is a surprisingly difficult word with which to rhyme things, or maybe because I was hesitant to write about a romance because I felt like I couldn't come up with new ways to talk about love.  It was all "moon and June," so to speak, and fanciful, and I didn't want it to come across that way.  I wanted a serious, yet ephemeral, kind of tone to the lyrics.  That's why it took me so long to get some words down - and when I did, I'd cross them all out again, because it was infantile.  And if there was one thing I didn't want, it was for "Rooftops" to be infantile.

And so I strayed away from what I had originally wanted, and became disheartened with the whole song endeavour, putting it away in favour of other lyrics (forthcoming, I promise you).   And the further I got from it, the less feeling I had about the song, and about the circumstance that inspired it.  I was only brought back to brainstorming with a furious purpose for this song when I concentrated on listening to the soundtrack of the aforementioned film.  And specifically, one song called "This Time."  And suddenly, I knew the words I wanted, and they came.

I'm still not emotionally invested, or crazy, about the song.  There's a detachment there for me, but maybe you don't feel it.  I'd like that.

And I like the idea of throwing one's problems over the side of a building and just having an evening of being careless and carefree and weightless.  It's falling in love for the night, and for the memory.  There's a balance, I think, between ethereality and concreteness that floats through the song, enough to make it substantial without making it too consequential.  There's also some sort of collusion of the natural world with the human world, in the song, to make the subjects seem so important, and yet so small at the same time.  I don't know, I'm probably analysing it too much.

At any rate, it does repeat the word "here" enough.

Rooftops

the way the wind blows through here makes it sound like a symphony

won't you come to me, won't you come to me?

high above the ordinary streets, the sky is so close

and we can be weightless the whole night through

there's a guitar man playing in the park below

but I'd rather be, I'd rather be on this rooftop with you

CHORUS:

let's take all our worries and drop them over the side

we'll watch them fall, and then we can leave them behind

away from the people, near enough to the stars

let's stay on this rooftop, up here in the dark

you look so good here, above the shining lights of the city

won't you sing to me, won't you sing to me?

if tonight is all you and I have, let's make this time glow

take me for a ride on the wings of a tune

there's a guitar man playing in the park below

but I'd rather be, I'd rather be on this rooftop with you

CHORUS:

let's take all our worries and drop them over the side

we'll watch them fall, and then we can leave them behind

away from the people, near enough to the stars

let's stay on this rooftop, up here in the dark

BRIDGE:

everything is simpler, here

love is love and your eyes are clear

I wish we could stay forever, away from reality

won't you think of me, won't you think of me?

this is the night we'll remember when the world's beneath snow

the night only we had the greatest view

there's a guitar man playing in the park below

but I'd rather be, I'd rather be on this rooftop with you

CHORUS:

let's take all our worries and drop them over the side

we'll watch them fall, and then we can leave them behind

away from the people, near enough to the stars

let's stay on this rooftop, up here in the dark

CHORUS 2:

let's take all our troubles and throw them over the side

we'll watch them fall, and then we can leave them behind

far from the people, halfway to the stars

let's stay on this rooftop, and give in to our hearts... (end)

Ugh.  My poor computer.

I know the rhyme scheme of the verses (AABCBC) is a bit of a strange one, but I think it works.  Let me know what you think!

And Yalina, I love that you're commenting (please don't delete what you write!)!  Thank you for your kind words of encouragement, and I'm glad that you're finding something worthwhile as you visit my little blog.  I agree about "Nobody Does it Better" - that was always my favourite Bond song, before I heard "All Time High," I have to admit.  And "Skyfall" has suddenly become an instant classic, too.  Again, thank you for taking the time to reply to my (somewhat rambling, at times) posts.

Off to fly across the country.  I may post another one ("How It Feels") later tonight, depending on what time my jet lag subsides.  If not, then definitely at some point during the weekend.

Much love, and thank you for the musik,

Just Another Ordinary Girl

I've been sitting, watching life pass from the sidelines.