House
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House.
I walked to your house from my house. It took hours.
Sidewalks I walked when I was still young.
Grown through and grown over. Grass, chamomile, alder,
smoke, tar and asphalt, exhaust.
You'd think home was the first thing we lost.
You can't live in the past, there's no past.
You can't live in a headstone, you can't.
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house.I drove out of my way a few minutes.
I circled sunken graves for an hour.
There's a cure now, but that doesn't matter.
I found you; I should have brought flowers.
Singing “Twilight,” I almost forgot.
You'd think you were the first thing we lost.
If you can't live in the past,
You can't live at all.
You are a house
But no one lives in a house now.
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house
Nobody lives in a house.[I'm working on an album about the friends I played music with in high school and where all of us ended up. It is a middle-aged millennial's nostagia record. This one is for a friend who had cystic fibrosis and died at 19. He would have loved The World Is A Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, and I wrote this inspired by listening to their song "Gig Life" a few too many times.]
-
House.
I walked to your house from my house. It took hours.
Sidewalks I walked when I was still young.
Grown through and grown over. Grass, chamomile, alder,
smoke, tar and asphalt, exhaust.
You'd think home was the first thing we lost.
You can't live in the past, there's no past.
You can't live in a headstone, you can't.
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house.I drove out of my way a few minutes.
I circled sunken graves for an hour.
There's a cure now, but that doesn't matter.
I found you; I should have brought flowers.
Singing “Twilight,” I almost forgot.
You'd think you were the first thing we lost.
If you can't live in the past,
You can't live at all.
You are a house
But no one lives in a house now.
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house
Nobody lives in a house.[I'm working on an album about the friends I played music with in high school and where all of us ended up. It is a middle-aged millennial's nostagia record. This one is for a friend who had cystic fibrosis and died at 19. He would have loved The World Is A Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, and I wrote this inspired by listening to their song "Gig Life" a few too many times.]
One of the hardest things for me is the need to lock into an emotionally resonant concept. It's way harder to combine notes and words without that. I have written a lot of stuff I don't like and won't share because it frankly feels forced and bad. I think about my friends all the time and I miss them. Writing about getting older and tracing my friends' lives feels sincere in a way that writing about my cat and some airports doesn't.
-
House.
I walked to your house from my house. It took hours.
Sidewalks I walked when I was still young.
Grown through and grown over. Grass, chamomile, alder,
smoke, tar and asphalt, exhaust.
You'd think home was the first thing we lost.
You can't live in the past, there's no past.
You can't live in a headstone, you can't.
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house.I drove out of my way a few minutes.
I circled sunken graves for an hour.
There's a cure now, but that doesn't matter.
I found you; I should have brought flowers.
Singing “Twilight,” I almost forgot.
You'd think you were the first thing we lost.
If you can't live in the past,
You can't live at all.
You are a house
But no one lives in a house now.
You are a house
Nobody lives in a house
Nobody lives in a house.[I'm working on an album about the friends I played music with in high school and where all of us ended up. It is a middle-aged millennial's nostagia record. This one is for a friend who had cystic fibrosis and died at 19. He would have loved The World Is A Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, and I wrote this inspired by listening to their song "Gig Life" a few too many times.]
@HG freakin gorgeous
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R relay@relay.publicsquare.global shared this topicR relay@relay.mycrowd.ca shared this topic
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One of the hardest things for me is the need to lock into an emotionally resonant concept. It's way harder to combine notes and words without that. I have written a lot of stuff I don't like and won't share because it frankly feels forced and bad. I think about my friends all the time and I miss them. Writing about getting older and tracing my friends' lives feels sincere in a way that writing about my cat and some airports doesn't.
@HG I think the category of ‘my cat in some (but not all) airports’ is an under-represented song theme.
