New song lyric of mine: The Falcon From The Mountain
FinsburyParkCarrots
Posts: 12,223
Here ya go. I wrote this one a couple of weeks ago. I'll record a demo soon.
Bridie left the city life behind her,
And fled her suited husband with his grin:
She’d dreamt a mountain falcon might remind her
Of a secret, older self, still held within.
So, she found a western village at the ocean,
One September, with the heather bold in blaze.
With a falcon fixed above her, rapt in station,
Bridie chose her brand new viewpoint, for new days.
Days fell down and blanketed the mountain,
And rainy mist enveloped all in shroud.
Bridie, from her window, started counting
Days until the sun defied the cloud.
No-one traipsed that road until one morning,
Gold unveiled the sky and all was clear.
Bridie rose to seize the moment of her yearning
In the bright red city shoes she’d dreamt she’d wear.
All along the way where Bridie rambled,
Sun bore down and split the scattered stones.
Ahead, a shadow-figure tripped and shambled,
Faceless in a swathe of rags and bones.
Within this gleam of sun, her falcon’s shadow
Disappeared within the fire gleam
That fades all shape and form, pake as a widow
Bowed before the gravehead of a dream.
A figure on the road froze, still in wonder:
At those bright red city shoes, he turned to stare.
The mountain sun fell dull before new thunder.
The figure screamed, and vanished into air.
How the rain rang down, with Bridie running,
Bright red shoes reflecting in the flood!
At once, she saw the magic of the falcon,
Dancing in her husband’s windblown blood.
Bridie left the city life behind her,
And fled her suited husband with his grin:
She’d dreamt a mountain falcon might remind her
Of a secret, older self, still held within.
So, she found a western village at the ocean,
One September, with the heather bold in blaze.
With a falcon fixed above her, rapt in station,
Bridie chose her brand new viewpoint, for new days.
Days fell down and blanketed the mountain,
And rainy mist enveloped all in shroud.
Bridie, from her window, started counting
Days until the sun defied the cloud.
No-one traipsed that road until one morning,
Gold unveiled the sky and all was clear.
Bridie rose to seize the moment of her yearning
In the bright red city shoes she’d dreamt she’d wear.
All along the way where Bridie rambled,
Sun bore down and split the scattered stones.
Ahead, a shadow-figure tripped and shambled,
Faceless in a swathe of rags and bones.
Within this gleam of sun, her falcon’s shadow
Disappeared within the fire gleam
That fades all shape and form, pake as a widow
Bowed before the gravehead of a dream.
A figure on the road froze, still in wonder:
At those bright red city shoes, he turned to stare.
The mountain sun fell dull before new thunder.
The figure screamed, and vanished into air.
How the rain rang down, with Bridie running,
Bright red shoes reflecting in the flood!
At once, she saw the magic of the falcon,
Dancing in her husband’s windblown blood.
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
Line two should read "gin", not "grin". Line twenty-three should read "pale", not "pake". Fook it.
i like the last line:
Dancing in her husband’s windblown blood.
take a good look
this could be the day
hold my hand
lie beside me
i just need to say
Imagine how the lyrics would "look" in the mind if the name was Rose or Helena. Bridie just sounds like a weak person, you know. The lyrics include challenges a stronger woman would need to make.
By the way, I love your attention to how words feel on the tongue and the detail in your lyrics.
What does "pake as a widow", mean?
The more I read the lyrics the more chaotic they feel. I guess that makes sense considering the subject matter. However, sometimes the story seems to have a wider gap than is necessary.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Ooops, had to edit a part out.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
There's nothing romantic or emancipatory about this sad figure. There's a lot of emptiness, and a dissonance between her way of using a flight of fantasy and the reality of her marriage (which I chose not to include in the story, to keep things interior to Bridie's mind). The reality of the situation is the silence in this song.
Your red shoes line was one of "the" somethings ringing in my head today while I was writing, the red shoes were like an afterthought that kept popping into my head.
"To question your government is not unpatriotic --
to not question your government is unpatriotic."
-- Sen. Chuck Hagel
Oh.
That makes sense. A whole story came to you with the picture of those two unusual pieces!
my compliments, richard. well done.
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green