Sunday, October 28, 2012

Read all about it (Pt3) - Emile Sande

You've got the words to change a nation but you’re biting your tongue
You've spent a lifetime stuck in silence afraid you’ll say something wrong
If no one ever hears it, how we gonna learn your song?
So come on come on, come on come on

You've got a heart as loud as lions so why let your voice be tamed?
Maybe we’re a little different, there’s no need to be ashamed
You've got the light to fight the shadows so stop hiding it away
Come on, come on

I wanna sing
I wanna shout
I wanna scream till the words dry out
So put it in all of the papers, I’m not afraid
They can read all about it, read all about it oh

Oh ohhh oh
Ohhh ohhh oh
Ohhh oh oh

At night we’re waking up the neighbours while we sing away the blues
Making sure that we’re remember yeah, cause we all matter too
If the truth has been forbidden, then we’re breaking all the rules
So come on come on, come on come on

Let’s get the TV and the radio to play our tune again,
It’s bout time we got some airplay of our version of events
There’s no need to be afraid, I will sing with you my friend
Come on come on

(Repeat Chorus)

Yeah we’re all wonderful, wonderful people
So when did we all get so fearful?
Now we’re finally finding our voices
So take a chance come help me sing this

Yeah we’re all wonderful, wonderful people
So when did we all get so fearful?
And now we’re finally finding our voices
Just take a chance come help me sing this

(Repeat Chorus x 2)

Emile Sande

First fell in love with this girl in July when I heard My Kind of Love, but this song just opens me up like it was written for me the way how I feel it. 

Saturday, October 27, 2012

To my number one fan...

I could O.D. on this cocktail: getting lost in the music, engaging and connecting with you in the crowd. I cant get this high often enough, but when I come down; hop off that stage; lights, cameras, mics all switched off, its easy to take for granted that you're still checking for me.

See I go back to my ordinary humbling life, quietly feigning for those moments between.

I try to get it back. I try to put it together. Pieces of me, scattered all over the floor and walls of my solitude. Melodies wake me from my sleep, I write them down quickly lest I lose them as they fade like dreams. Others have plagued me for years. I tune in to the din of voices in my head speaking over each other incessantly in prose. Thoughts on my chest like an aggressive persistent cough. I need to get it off, get it out...

Where did that come from?

That joy from writing and composing is the gateway drug that's gotten me here...smacking my knees, scratching my elbows, bussing shots through my ceiling with my gun finger, or that finger-snapping you do with your middle finger and thumb together while index finger lets loose (girls that dance 'hot wuk' understand. Men that give it do too). But I digress...

I'm a junkie you see, irrational, here one minute, spaced out the next, but i never stop moving. Perpetually focused and scatterbrained all at once. I disappear, not because I'm not channeling my gifts to purpose. I'm trying to better share them. Bare with me...

I am eternally grateful for all the time you have lent to my dream.
Thank you for helping me to support my habit.