
up-fiddler
Taming the World--for now
Not a lot of grins or smiley icons attached to this one. I got a tune in my head and scratched it out this morning in 15 minutes. (It probably shows!) I will have time to rework it or throw it away after it sits for a couple of days and I look it over again. In any event, consider me on board. I don't know how but I WILL find time to get it recorded in the next 35 days. I stuck with the literal term 'emptiness' because I love the way it just hangs on the tongue and can be vocally drawn out slowly and mournfully. In fact, I was singing the word Emptiness over and over in as many ways as I could and finally settled on one. Then I just worked the song backward from there. Thanks again to Geck for getting this going.
Emptiness
c.Dave Morehouse 2009
When I seek I always find
Loneliness and me entwined.
Each passing hour does remind
Me of this Emptiness.
All alone
Yet I’m surrounded.
The gates of hell
Have clearly sounded.
A time to reap
And time to sow.
The meter clangs
It’s time to go.
If I could simply find a friend
And not another passing trend.
I’d take their hand and we’d ascend
From this Emptiness.
All alone
Yet I’m surrounded.
The gates of hell
Have clearly sounded.
A time to reap
And time to sow.
The meter clangs
It’s time to go.
So I slip back to my room
Wishing life could now resume.
Perhaps exchange this Baby Boom
For some dark Emptiness?
All alone
Yet I’m surrounded.
The gates of hell
Have clearly sounded.
A time to reap
And time to sow.
The meter clangs
It’s time to go.
Emptiness
c.Dave Morehouse 2009
When I seek I always find
Loneliness and me entwined.
Each passing hour does remind
Me of this Emptiness.
All alone
Yet I’m surrounded.
The gates of hell
Have clearly sounded.
A time to reap
And time to sow.
The meter clangs
It’s time to go.
If I could simply find a friend
And not another passing trend.
I’d take their hand and we’d ascend
From this Emptiness.
All alone
Yet I’m surrounded.
The gates of hell
Have clearly sounded.
A time to reap
And time to sow.
The meter clangs
It’s time to go.
So I slip back to my room
Wishing life could now resume.
Perhaps exchange this Baby Boom
For some dark Emptiness?
All alone
Yet I’m surrounded.
The gates of hell
Have clearly sounded.
A time to reap
And time to sow.
The meter clangs
It’s time to go.