I was strolling through a bright and chilly June morning in my neighbourhood, thinking about the weirdest and longest lived war of words I've ever had. It was being waged through email and was growing way out of hand, speeding away from whatever the original point was (obscure to begin with) and developing a kind of self-perpetuating insult generator.
I was strolling along, thinking of the coffee I would brew up back at home, when a few phrases occurred to me about the fight and formed themselves into rhymes. I got home and resurrected an old instrumental which gave me a verse structure, added a chorus and middle eight and, virtually faith-creating for me, wrote the finished lyric by afternoon.
Must've had something to say.
lyrics
THE SMILE THAT YOU PREFER
It was the kind of story you keep out of reach
That you start at the airport and finish on the beach
But well-thumbed pleasure and op-shop fun
Will have a way of coming back and shaming in the sun
Uniforms and old regards, fluted glasses and champagne shards
Noises off and arc light sparks, one missed cue
And an exit in the dark.
Choose death, choose life, choose noose, choose knife
Use anything you want as long as we don't recur
With reason shirking all its work, meet me with your wishes
And the smile that you prefer.
Rusty shadows called us here
We walked among the spirits where angels fear
We tapped upon the graves where the real victims slept
And we broke into the bower where their pride is kept.
The conch was cracked and the words were old
Marked down from where they first were sold
Some thoughts to make a barricade
That can withstand a new tirade
Choose death, choose life, choose noose, choose knife
Use anything you want as long as we don't recur
With reason shirking all its work, meet me with your wishes
And the smile that you prefer.
Sell the dresses. Sell the props and lines.
Sell the markers and the exit signs.
Keep the dusters and the office mints.
Keep the vases for the fingerpints.
All gone since. All gone since.
Evidence is thin today. I starved to wear Exhibit A
I'm raging mad. I'm off my face.
With fond regret I rest my case
Choose death, choose life, choose noose, choose knife
Use anything you want as long as we don't recur
With reason shirking all its work, meet me with your wishes
And the smile that you prefer.
Almost entirely midi and voice but I got to use my lovely Fender VI and reinforced it with the Precision Bass (both recorded direct through a Sansamp BD)
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