Gonna pack up all my things
I’m on the run again come the morning
Gonna cover up my tracks
I’m never looking back come the morning.
Why do I run?
Why do I run?
Why do I run when I’ve only just begun?
The sharpest knife can’t cut you out
In the dead of night your eyes still haunt me
Like a photograph through broken glass
You’re under my bed
Behind the mask.
So why try
when I know
I’ll never get it right?
Why did I go?
I’ve only just begun.
It was never if
but when
I’d come crawling back again one summer morning
Guess I’m never gonna learn
to let that fire burn through the morning.
Why do I run?
Why do I run?
Why do I run when I’ve only just begun?
I tried a little something different with this tune, i.e. laying down some bass, electric guitar and drum tracks first, then doing the acoustic guitar and vocals live over those pre-existing tracks. The synching of the video and audio is slightly off, but what can you do…
I actually recorded a version of this song a few years ago. As I blogged at the time, I had just flown to New Jersey from Mexico to have knee surgery, and I didn’t have access to a guitar. So I wrote and recorded this tune using a keyboard and the GarageBand software on my laptop. This is one of those tunes that just came to me fully formed from out of the blue. I took the photo above moments after that first recording, holding my crutches out in front of me like the prison bars they had become. Having been through four knee injuries and three surgeries, I’m hoping those fuckers don’t come out of the closet again any time soon. Anyway, as with all my creative projects, this song continues to morph as the years unfold. Perhaps next time I’ll just whistle over a beat box…
Breakthrough
I woke to the birds and the best of intentions.
I tried every way I knew to express them.
I get on the train and it’s taking me somewhere
Away from myself…
Away from this cell.
But I can’t get away from you.
I lock all the doors but you still break through.
Where did the time go? How did I get home?
When did I get old? Show me the slideshow.
Somebody told me: “It’s all as it should be.”
So I’ll keep on hiding, just so you can find me.
But I can’t get away from you.
I lock every door but you still break through.
Here’s the “album version” (i.e. mixed and trimmed), with an intro from the ghost of Alan Watts:
Reverb 10 Prompt (from Sam Davidson): What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?
Okay party people, I won’t try to fake you out with this one. I needed a break from staring at shiny rectangles, and a song descended from the Great Unknown, demanding to be birthed into some form of existence. There are only so many hours in the day, so I’m gonna have to half-ass my response to the prompt. To make up for it, I will perform the song for you (via the trusty iMac I got for my 40th birthday!). As an added bonus, at the end of the song I tagged on a cover of Bad Bone by The Frames, just for the heck of it (which is why it’s such a long video clip). Anyhoo, 11 things I can do without…
1) Triscuits: Especially the Cracked Pepper and Olive Oil kind. I just ate a box for dinner. 2) Self-imposed isolation: Gotta mingle with other humans more often. 3) Playing on the computer after 9pm: Last night I tweeted in my sleep. 4) Watching television: I don’t watch much now, but admittedly I watch crap online all the time, which is pretty much the same thing. 5) The belief that I don’t need any insurance whatsoever: While I very rarely get sick (like, once every few years), I am an old man now, so I probably need one of those rubber-glove-up-the-wazoo exams at some point. 6) The belief that I’m an old man: Seriously, I need to drop that one immediately. I know damn well that I look and feel great for my age, and when I think about it for even a minute I realize with certainty that I’m better in every way now than at any other point in my life. Except maybe when it comes to sports. 7) My resistance to hard work: I prefer to go with the flow, but sometimes you have to bust ass. 8) My crippling fear of rejection: Dude. You’re f-ing 40 years old already! Get over yourself! 9) My avoidance of friendships with women: I’m afraid of what will happen if sexual attraction rears its head (so to speak), which with me is almost unavoidable. Is it possible for such a friendship to be charged and intense, but not lead to anything that could jeopardize my good standing with my wife? I wouldn’t know, because I maintain my distance to such an extreme than any sort of close friendship with another woman is impossible. 10) My belief that people, for the most part, are ignorant, cowardly a-holes who refuse self-awareness at every turn in favor of distraction and empty pursuits: I’ve been working on this one a lot lately. Everyone’s doing the best they can with the cards they’ve been dealt and I am no better than anyone. When I choose to see people as basically good-natured, everybody is much happier. 11) My tendency to wait for good things to happen instead of putting myself on the line to make them happen.
I will work on all of these things by keeping up with my core spiritual practices: Creative expression, authentic relationships, mindfulness meditation, somatics (body-centered stuff), self-reflection and critical inquiry. And singing songs:
Don’t lose your head Don’t
Don’t focus on the pain
You’ll only make it worse
You’ll drive yourself insane
If I don’t get there first
You’re standing on the edge
Without a parachute
I’ll see you on the ground
Enjoy the ride
[Don’t lose your head]
So
How many have I loved
How many never knew
I kept it to myself
Then gave it all to you
And now that you are gone
There’s nothing left to lose
So I’m back here on the edge
Here goes nothing
[Don’t lose your head]
Bad Bone [Glen Hansard] There’s a bad bone inside me
All my trouble started there
All the cracks are adding up to be
A little more than you can bear
When I met you, you were bitter still
From a scar you’re never gonna show
And I was cursed with a jealousy
It’s killed every love I’ve ever known
And oh, what’s the point in staying still
When there’s so many places we can go
When the anger that you feel
Turns to poison in you soul
And the cracks you only feel
Start to show
You were waiting on the balcony
And I was sleeping in your bed
You said I pleased you only partially
But I knew my hunger would be fed
And oh, what’s the point in holding out
For a love that only will destroy
When the anger that you feel
Turns to poison in your soul
And the cracks you only feel
Start to show
And oh, all my thoughts of getting clear
And of getting out before my time
Have died with you upon the vine
A song that descended from the Great Unknown on January 2, 2008, while I was living in Mexico. I finally got around to singing it:
Go Beth, go catch your breath
Just slow things down a little bit
One day you’re gonna be okay
Just watch your worries float away
Like whispers on a breeze
Messages on stormy seas
Like memories of a dream
Nothing’s ever what it seems
Rest your weary heart
Wake up, my little sleepy head
You don’t wanna spend all day in bed
Get dressed, take a walk with me
We’ll watch the leaves fall from the trees
Like young hearts into love
A shooting star from high above
A tree onto the ground
And we’ll be there to hear the sound
And rest our weary hearts
[Narration: 1) Henry Miller, reading “Third or Fourth Day of Spring” from his book “Black Spring”; 2) Myself, talking to myself in “el cuarto”, Mexico, 2008.]
I tried a little something different with this tune, i.e. laying down some bass, electric guitar and drum tracks first, then doing the acoustic guitar and vocals live over those pre-existing tracks. The synching of the video and audio is slightly off, but what can you do…