I was thinking about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless

Had a batch of dreams last night that were murky in every sense of the word. I vaguely remember being in Nashua for something work related and it being cloudy; I forget most else. I didn't go to Nashua today, but it was certainly cloudy. Despite the sense I have that the dreams weren't negative in content, I awoke feeling as if my life is riddled with things broken and cancerous. Not far from the truth, that. Seems like nothing works. My computer is barely operational - I definitely suspect a virus of some sort; my television has these weird lines adorning the top of the screen that make for a skewed viewing experience; my phone shuts off if you breathe on it the wrong way; my car has it's issues. Fortunately for me I have a ton of money to take care of these problems. I forgot: I'm poor as can be. Yes, but my heart is pure. There is that. I will get by.

Last night, I went over to True Grounds and wrote some lyrics. I didn't produce much as far as volume, but I did eke out some lines I was pleased with. I've always labored over writing lyrics, they've never come as easy as the music, and, consequently, I've come to view the process as a chore akin to doing homework. To alleviate that outlook, I've determined that the more persistent I am, the better and more flowing the results will be, hence my visit to True Grounds. Generally speaking, I've been happy with the lyrics I've written, but that aforementioned process has often been a bitch, for lack of a better, more PG-13 friendly, word.

The trick about writing lyrics, at least as far as I'm concerned, is the confinement of space in which to convey an idea, feeling, etc. The parameters are narrow. And there is also an emphasis on the sound of the words being chosen, how they sound together or apart. Do they roll off the tongue the right way? See, with this blog, I can stretch my legs, so to speak, and flesh out ideas with boundless parameters. I can go on and on ad nauseum to my heart's content without too much worry regarding structure. Occasionally, I'll try to trim some fat and correct mistakes, but for the most part I just bloviate unhindered.This is why I post far more regularly here than on Subterranean Hills where the work is more carefully crafted.

I try, with my lyrics and poetry, which are often one and the same, to reach for what Werner Herzog calls the ecstatic truth, something deep within us, perhaps dormant, but something we feel nourished by and recognize on a fundamental level. I generally don't write narratives, at least not clear and direct ones. Bruce Springsteen writes those. You can read his lyrics off a page and you've got yourself a nice little story. "Born To Run" has a cool narrative structure. And of course Bob Dylan, the master lyricist, often writes in the same way, but not necessarily direct as The Boss. "Isis", one of my favorites of his, is sublime.


I married Isis on the fifth day of May
But I could not hold on to her very long
So I cut off my hair and I rode straight away
For the wild unknown country where I could not go wrong.

I came to a high place of darkness and light
The dividing line ran through the center of town
I hitched up my pony to a post on the right
Went in to a laundry to wash my clothes down.

A man in the corner approached me for a match
I knew right away he was not ordinary
He said "Are you looking for something easy to catch ?"
I said "I got no money". He said "That ain't necessary".

We set out that night for the cold in the North
I gave him my blanket he gave me his word
I said "Where are we going ?" He said "We'd be back by the fourth"
I said "That's the best new that I've ever heard".

I was thinking about turquoise I was thinking about gold
I was thinking about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace
As we rode through the canyons through the devilish cold
I was thinking about Isis how she thought I was so reckless.

How she told me that one day we meet up again
And things would be different the next time we wed
If I only could hang on and just be her friend
I still can't remember all the best things she said.

We came to the pyramids all embedded in ice
He said "There's a body I'm trying to find
If I carry it out it'll bring a good prize"
It was then that I knew what he had on his mind.

The wind it was howling and the snow was outrageous
We chopped through the night and we chopped through the dawn
When he died I was hoping that it wasn't contagious
But I made up my mind that I had to go on.
I broke into the tomb but the casket was empty
There was no jewels no nothing I felt I'd been had
When I saw that my partner was just being friendly
When I took up his offer I must-a been mad.

I picked up his body and I dragged him inside
Threw him down in the hole and I put back the cover
I said a quick prayer and I felt satisfied
Then I rode back to find Isis just to tell her I love her.

She was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise
Blinded by sleep and in need of a bed
I came in from the East with the sun in my eyes
I cursed her one time then I rode on ahead.

She said "Where ya been ?" I said "No place special ?"
She said "You look different" I said "Well I guess"
She said "You been gone" I said "That's only natural"
She said "You gonna stay ?" I said "If you want me to, Yeah ".

Isis oh Isis you mystical child
What drives me to you is what drives me insane
I still can remember the way that you smiled

What I love about the song is the mystery embedded in a seemingly straight forward story. I prefer it when things aren't spelled out for me. I like things esoteric. Maybe I'm daft, but I couldn't tell you what this song is about. I have my ideas, but I bet they're different than yours. Or maybe not. That's why the lyrics are cool: they invite interpretation.

When someone asks me what one of my songs is about, I'll often answer that I don't know, which is generally the truth and not me being elusive. Sometimes I'll figure out what one of my songs is about years after writing it, but even then can I really be sure? I'm not suggesting I don't have a worm of an idea when I embark on a song, but it's usually not much more than that. For example, I've been thinking lately about how we affect different personas in our lives and wondering if there is one definitive self above all others. You know how people say "just be yourself"? Well, what self are you referring to? Sure, with some people I feel more relaxed, unrestrained, and more "like myself", but what about the "job" me? The family me? Are they less valid? I'm not saying these aspects of our lives are markedly different from each other, but I think you get my drift. Anyhow, with all of that in mind, I started writing.

Am I someone else when I'm with you?
Do these strands connect like a beaded string of stars?
You mute my fears when you talk close to my ear
I feel the ground give way and I'm gone to the other lives

The birth of fresh thought, the swell of my own desire
Has changed my place in the way I'm measured by others
You fetter me in your secret sphere, in your truth unprovoked

As I wrote, I discovered that my focus was on being with someone who made me feel at ease, who brought out the best of me, and made me question whether "the other lives" were fraudulent in the face of this relationship. The song is still a seedling and needs more lyrics and some retooling, but I like it so far.

Whew, well there you have it. I'm beat and will probably do little in the way of being productive once I finish this. I'll probably read from The Dragon Reborn and maybe catch some of the Bruins game before sleep takes possession of me.