THAT (that) wrote,

2019 - A Song A Week, #9 & #10: Spinning Under A Tree & Rescuing Poetry

Forgot to post here last week, so here are two new songs.


Oh where is the child
Who showed so much promise?
We patted her head
And we waived all her fees
She shone like a lighthouse
Our hopes and ideals
But the lamp has been covered
Oh where can she be?

Spinning under a tree
Spinning under a tree
Spinning under a tree
Spinning under and under and under

"My sleep was not restful
My dreams were not idyllic
I was force-fed foul catechisms
In sickly Cyrillic
And everyone could see me
And I didn't want to be me
'Til I found that the circles
Were the only thing that could free me"

Spinning under a tree
Spinning under a tree
Spinning under a tree
Spinning under a tree



Nathan is all holed up in that burned-out farm
When was he ever one for rustic charm?
Reams of paper crumpled on the floor
Nobody gets to see him anymore

Bob's your uncle, piece of cake
Either way you'll see the lake
You've got to rescue poetry
Do it for posterity
There's a train that leaves at three

Living away too long gets your senses skewed
Surely he's feeling the lack of Chinese food
Take him your novel, roll him a big fat joint
He's probably out of ammo at this point

I would go, you bet your ass
But as it happens I've got class
I've got to rescue poetry
Undergrads need the torch
Handed down, honestly

Nothing to worry
Your innocent head about
Your little secret
I'd never let that out

Nathan has gotten large the townies say
Keep by the door if you need to get away
Readers are crying out for his complex voice
It could get rough but it's not like you have a choice

You're the only one he'll trust
He loves you or at least your bust

You've got to rescue poetry
From itself apparently
Honey it's your destiny

Tags: my music
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened