JPF Home Page Forums General Messages Songwriter Message Forum Where did those lyrics come from? - reflecting on previous writes

Sometimes I look back at older songs I have written and have little recollection of where the lyrics came from or even of writing them. I heard Bob Dylan say something along those lines (although his are a hundred million times more successful than mine!!) - he said he had no idea where his big ones from the early days came from.

Sometimes it is a struggle to get new ones going. But then they appear and if I don't record them in some way, they go away again in minutes.

What about you? Do lyrics miraculously float into your head or do you struggle over every word?

I watched this video I had made of one of mine and recalled that I was sort of challenged by an English friend to use the car Hillman Minx (which my Dad owned) in a song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BM9qriJlNOI

The song is basically about me but many of the lines came from nowhere.....

The Emigration Song Copyright �2011 Colin Ward

V1
Stirring tea in the afternoon,
In a china cup with a silver spoon,
A biscuit with Typhoo, an afternoon treat,
Something hot and something sweet

V2
A Hillman Minx, still warm in the drive,
Back from the country where they felt so alive,
The silence is broken by the radio,
BBC News and the Archers show

Chorus 1
The clock ticks loud and the clock ticks slow,
A chill in the air,
And the coal� makes a fiery glow

V3
The needles click as the sweater grows,
A black cat watches, licking milk from his nose,
A boy reads quietly sitting on the floor,
Lost in homework, never saying he�s bored

V4
A sweater and tie, wool pants to his knees,
Wet socks by the fire, in from the freeze,
Mud-covered shoes from puddles and rain,
The cold and damp drives them all insane

Chorus 1
The clock ticks loud and the clock ticks slow,
A chill in the air,
And the coal� makes a fiery glow

Bridge
Six months later they�re warm in the sun,
Ninety degrees, they sweat when they run
The new clock�s quiet and plugs in the wall,
An Oldsmobile waits at their beck and call

V final
The countryside is dry and flat,
They don�t miss the rain, there�s not much of that,
They miss the folks who they left behind,
But the memories fade to the back of their minds

Chorus 2
The clock ticked loud and the clock ticked slow,
A chill in the air,
And the coal�. made a fiery glow

I wonder where this one came from, Colin. :-)

I think I remember where most of mine came from but then my memory isn't as good as it was.

Vic

Yeah - this one is not too mysterious, but I have some others that I totally forgot about writing.

Hi Colin,

You started with the car, and it turned into this? The human brain is a fascinating thing, how one thought trips another. The lyric is outstanding. So descriptive. Nothing is wasted.

For me, every song is different. Sometimes I'll get what I think is a great line and start adding around it. Sometimes it goes nowhere, sometimes it leads to "the real song" which had nothing to do with the original line (which then gets nix'd).

If I'm writing playfully and impersonally, I'm mainly listening to the sound of the words and how they crunch all together. If I'm writing more personally, I am trying to make sure my meaning/intention is clear. Sometimes playful turns into personal and vice versa. Personal songs are way harder for me.

I can't remember where any of them came from, other than from getting a good line and working around it, like I describe, or simply intending to write about a certain things, then sitting down and focusing until some words come.

One "happy accident" I recall.."The Clam Song" which I wrote because I heard two different friends use the same "Happy as a clam" statement on the same day, and it got me to research clams a little, and I decided they were probably not very happy, really, since they're basically a foot and a mouth, and only ate plankton..plankton rhymed with inner sanctum, and within a few minutes I knew I had something..a song written in the first person about an unhappy clam. The song is offline right now, but here's the lyric:

I hate bein' a clam
A foot and a mouth are about all I am
Stuck in my shell, this is no inner sanctum
And out of all this food around
All I can eat's plankton

But make me an oyster
And I'd make great pearls
And mussels seem to have the knack
For pickin' up girls
But this water's so dirty
From your garbage and spills
That almost gettin' beached is all
I ever do for thrills

And I drift with the tide
That's why this march of I'd's
I'd rather be a seahorse
Hey that's no charge for the ride
At the bottom of the food chain
You don't much give a damn
Ah I guess I'm just unhappy as a clam

Makin' love the clam way means
That you never touch
And the thought of shells collidin'
Never turned me on much
I'm a failure at clam love but
God knows I've tried
When I do I just get so
Scallopy inside

And I drift with the tide
And this ain't no sea of bliss
I'd rather be a starfish
Hey that's no charge for the wish
Sea life gets so boring
How much more can I stand
Ah I guess I'm just unhappy as a clam

They slung a rope 'round my family
Hauled 'em off on some ship
Turned my mom into chowder
And my dad into dip
Now if you're happy as me
Then you must be in hell
But before you abuse analyze and accuse me
Drift a mile in my shell

And I drift with the tide
And I'll drift away real soon
I'd rather be a blowfish
Hey that's no charge for the tune
At the bottom of the food chain
I'm right below the spam
Ah I guess I'm just unhappy as a clam

("The Clam Song" �1994 Michael Zaneski)

Well, there you are....starting with a clam and coming up with a story that includes environmental aspects as well as some facts from the bottom of the sea!

I get a phrase, that is usually the hook, then I construct around it. And, no, the lyrics don't appear. I have to get a basic thought and then hone and polish it. As a consequence, I am not prolific.

On occasion I will take the initial step of wanting to write about something in particular. I had three. 1. A place. 2. Patriotic. 3. Christmas. Still working on #3.

I pull everything out of my butt. I also do most of my work on the toilet. And I'm not joking.

Reviewing past work is a good pracice. You get insight in the themes you've been interested in, and the values you had. Not just in one, maybe exeptional, song, but in the bulk of writes.

You sort of create a new experience using own past experiences as your lens. It can contribute to finding your voice as a writer (which can take a lot of effort).

Like Dave, I get a hook and then try to surround it with a good story or song idea. If the hook and song idea aren't there, I don't take it any farther. I don't have enough time in a day to waste on bad song ideas. And since most of what I write is for me, the bar is pretty high - as like anyone else, I don't want to embarrass myself in public. My experience performing has made me a better writer as I now think as both the writer and performer even if the song is not for me to perform.

Oh crap, Aaron, and you wonder why it's so hard for you to find a co-writer???

Midnite

This reminds me of my favorite Keith Richards quote. I'll try to get it right, but he was sometimes hard to understand:-)

Someone asked him how he "created" his songs, and Mr. Richards replied:

I don't really create. I leave creating to God. I just try to capture something that's already there.

I know that we work hard to craft, and some songs take a lot more effort to "capture properly", whereas others take as long to write as they take to sing. One minute you're delivering pizza, and by the time you finish the delivery, a whole song has appeared.

On the other hand, it once took me 24 years to finish a song. I had the opening line, and nothing else. I'd tinker with it every now and then, but could never get the second @$%%$^$%^Line...Or at least not one that led anywhere else.

And then one night, for no apparent reason, because I wasn't even thinking about writing at that moment, the second line came floating in...20 minutes later, the whole song was done.

20-4-frickin' years!!!

And because I know someone may be curious: In 1983, at the end of a college term(I was a 26 year old freshman), a woman in a playwrighting class said "F-it, I'm going to Barbados and write the Great American Novel before some M-F-er drops the bomb".

We exchanged a few letters over the summer, and then lost track of each other...That's the brief "History", here is the first line:

Did you ever write your novel, while living in Barbados?

24 years later:

Entranced by crystal waters, and seducing cabana boys.

24 frickin' years...Believe me, if I had any idea where lyrics come from, I'd be glad to share and save someone else from aggravation!

Midnite

Occasionally I'll have a line or even a verse that seems to just pop into my head. But most of the time, lyrics are a real struggle.

Music, on the other hand, is always just popping into my head or out of my instrument.