A song emerging...

I am writing my first ever song with the guitar.  I've written the odd song before, but always the words and voice/melody were paramount, with any accompaniment being just a vague idea in the background. But this is a completely new way of working for me...twiddling around finding an interesting chord progression (very simple stuff still, I've only been doing this for 6 months), then playing around with different picking rhythms, letting a melody line evolve that seems to compliment it, and only then allowing words to float in that fit in around that.  It resulted in something that is less of a clear narrative than what I've written in the past, with words that sometimes fell into place because of their sounds as much, if not more, than their meaning.  But I'm rather liking it so far.  It is currently only a two chord song...with a couple of surprise C chords thrown in, but I think I like it enough to hang onto it.  So perhaps in another year or two, it might evolve further, as my skill with the guitar evolves.  These are the words at present, but all are subject to change without notice! ;-)

Through the window she came

Too long to wait for the moon to change

Out to the trees where the owls sing

Who are you, who are you, who

She says....

Gotta get me some wings

To fly away.

And the old man on the hill says

Wrong time of year to run away

Winter is coming and the frost is cruel

Don't be a fool.....

And stay.

She got a red rose blooming at her throat

An old donkey skin for a winter coat

Her feet hit the ground running

And she will not stop

Till she's far away...

Lickety-split go her tiny little toes

Lickety-split she's following her nose

Who knows where she'll go....

Got a pebble in her pocket and a piece of string

Tied in a knot for remembering

Who she was

And still could be...

And the road is paved with white stones

They'll cut her poor feet to the bone

And a trail of blood leads away

To a house by the sea

Made of fish bones and coral and old sailors' tales

And the old man on the hill says

Go on and be a mermaid

Wash your white feet in the brine

Watch them disappear into fin and scales

Lickety-split go her tiny little toes

Lickety-split she's following her nose

Who knows where she'll go....

Got a pebble in her pocket and a piece of string

Tied in a knot for remembering

Who she was

And will be again...

Christina Cairns © 2010