Music. Beer. Minnesota.
I thought this stanza up while having to watch my cousin bawl at the funeral of her 25 year old brother. I’ll turn it into something bigger soon.
Skin soaked with memories,
Reflections of the way things were
Are shining from your eyes.
Sitting in a white chair
discovering who I may be,
And I realize the irony
of exactly where I am.
When our cold winter breath
finally hits the ground,
It will be spring and raining
bringing life to new things.
When I was a child, everything was exactly how it seemed.
Now, God is just a premise, I’m the conclusion
waiting to be connected.
Validity fleets with every puff of smoke,
every sip of surreal secularity.
This argument eternal, begging to be breathed.
How must this cardinal connection show itself?
I am true. God, I would like to be true.
Is that enough?
This argument is fucked.
My blood ran deep but
The blue was yet dull
Is flowing to warmth
I fear that they all see me
Just a touch, though can’t deceive me
Like I could if I was
Inside out, my foot in my mouth
As the needle pushes deeper
Shattering my skin
The hardest part of living
Is learning to breathe
The right way, though my sight says
Its very self’s the only thing that I can’t live
Without, out with the old
In with the Knew I couldn’t
Do this with my mouth shut
It pushes deeper and it shatters my skin.
Take me to the river so I can
See myself how I truly am
A reflection moving southbound down the current
And against the wind
Now am I ankle deep in muddy waters
Just to take a peak
Or is this gust at my back getting
Me to go in past my knees
I don’t know, but I’ve been told
That finding yourself is just a part of growing old
But I don’t know
Whether to believe it any more
Than the things I hear on the street
Or in my head, or from the priest
It’s so hard to tell anymore
It was said it wouldn’t be easy
But no one knew how right they’d be
And now the joker and the thief in me
Are finding it hard to believe
That such a little tiny seed
Could stand up to this giant tree
And throw it right into the sea
8 more days and I’m only tasting dirt
I almost want it to be true so I can see what its worth
Today I sat down to revamp some old lyrics. I originally started writing this song after reading the dialogue in Book VII of The Republic written by Plato known as “The Allegory of the Cave.” After struggling to come up with anything worth while or non-cliche, I scrapped the whole idea, gave up, and wrote about something else. I had always considered those lyrics temporary until I achieved a point where I could more coherently portray my thoughts. That point finally came today, and this is a rough draft of the final lyrics. Let it be known that this song isn’t just “about Plato’s Cave.” It is more about the thought that came into my head during and after I read the dialogue. Some of it intrinsic, some of it existential.
“It’s all so much more than it seems,
So much more than you or me
What all am I supposed to know?
How to live? To love? To breath?
I want to break these chains,
To turn and face me, and
I want to know the name
of who I will be.
This stupid fucking here and now;
I know there’s more that I should hear about.
I want to be somebody, I just don’t know how.
There’s nothing more dangerous than turning loose.
Break the chains so I can see this place a little more
clearly, this is crucial, this is dire, this is necessary.
Break the chains so I can light this place a little more
brightly, set this cave ablaze so we can see this world
This is from the chorus of a song that I wrote/am rewriting called “Declaration.” I’ve been singing it to myself a lot lately, and have really realized how much the words actually mean to me. When I first started writing the song, I didn’t even know what it was about. Ever since, the meaning of my words has become more and more clear. It’s the moments of realization like this that make me glad to be an artist.
“I know there’s something left to lose or I wouldn’t be fighting with all of my heart, which I can’t help but to choose over my head this time around.”