Otherwise
FinsburyParkCarrots
Posts: 12,223
To hear ithe lo-fi home demo of this song I wrote and recorded yesterday, go to the first screen on the page: http://www.myspace.com/finsburytunes. Ember Days from my previous thread is now the second video.
Here are the words to Otherwise:
Otherwise
“I’m digging a hole for my back, and a rod for my grave”
Slurred the writer, his shirt poking out of his fly
As he stood at the bar, and announced that he’d have
Another quadruple with mud in your eye
Then he caught his reflection from glass on the wall
Behind optics and bottles he’d emptied that day
How rotund was that nose, how bright purple and all,
The great sight of a face half-distended by play!
The best part of the story of Rome he could name
Was when Nero played on with a city in flame.
(Otherwise ...)
The back of his head was a blur through a pane
Neither cleaned from outside, nor seen by the small
Woman pushing her pram through a street where the plain
Doorway placards, handwritten, each read, one and all
“Closing down”, all through town, all was being closed down
With no wind-battered building to open again
She looked at her son with his eyes on the flown
Pretty fledgling that made past a river of men
The best part of the story of love, she could say,
Was the dream, through her child, she might yet break away …
(Break away, now)
… the best part of the story of love, she could say,
Was the dream, through her child, she might yet break away.
(Otherwise …)
Small specks in the grey were these figures below
Neither gleaned from above, nor felt on the wing
As a young flyer swung above rooftop and bough
To find a new river, to live and to sing
“Promised land”, maybe heard in the echoes of dreams
By a writer whose liver is swollen with shame
Or a woman whose baby today almost seems
To be following shadows and learning their game.
The best part of the story of life we could claim
Is the glimpse of an Otherwise, seeking our aim.
Otherwise …
Otherwise …
Here are the words to Otherwise:
Otherwise
“I’m digging a hole for my back, and a rod for my grave”
Slurred the writer, his shirt poking out of his fly
As he stood at the bar, and announced that he’d have
Another quadruple with mud in your eye
Then he caught his reflection from glass on the wall
Behind optics and bottles he’d emptied that day
How rotund was that nose, how bright purple and all,
The great sight of a face half-distended by play!
The best part of the story of Rome he could name
Was when Nero played on with a city in flame.
(Otherwise ...)
The back of his head was a blur through a pane
Neither cleaned from outside, nor seen by the small
Woman pushing her pram through a street where the plain
Doorway placards, handwritten, each read, one and all
“Closing down”, all through town, all was being closed down
With no wind-battered building to open again
She looked at her son with his eyes on the flown
Pretty fledgling that made past a river of men
The best part of the story of love, she could say,
Was the dream, through her child, she might yet break away …
(Break away, now)
… the best part of the story of love, she could say,
Was the dream, through her child, she might yet break away.
(Otherwise …)
Small specks in the grey were these figures below
Neither gleaned from above, nor felt on the wing
As a young flyer swung above rooftop and bough
To find a new river, to live and to sing
“Promised land”, maybe heard in the echoes of dreams
By a writer whose liver is swollen with shame
Or a woman whose baby today almost seems
To be following shadows and learning their game.
The best part of the story of life we could claim
Is the glimpse of an Otherwise, seeking our aim.
Otherwise …
Otherwise …
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
I haven't stopped by your myspace in ages, but the new stuff sounds phenomenal. I didn't see this one on there though, and I really dig the lyrics.
Wait no, there it is the blue one. You sound like your voice has fallen into a more natural rhythm, it doesn't seem like your forcing yourself into singing a certain way anymore. I don't know if that particularly makes much sense, but shogunai. You sound more comfortable as a singer now I suppose.
Keep on keeping on, its getting better and better.
Heiwa,
ETE