this is something that I began writing in song writing class. We were to chose a cliche from a list of cliches and the one i chose was "when the going gets tough - the tough get going." when writing the first 2 verses I tried keeping in mind the whole eel, touch taste concept, learnt in a previous lesson. I also used the concept of beginning with the chorus.
Chorus:
But when I need you, you're no where to be found.
I try to hear you, but all I hear is muffled sound.
Your taste goes to waste, and everything becomes bitter sweet.
The back of your head seems so strong,
because only I could ever be wrong.
When the going gets tough, you get going!
VS1.
I've always needed it in black and white, with decent reasoning behind it.
I've never been one for being smooth, always straight to the point.
I love the idea of coming home to you;
When you'd leave your taste on my tongue
and your sweet stench seeping into my nostrils.
To just inhale you!
Chorus:
But when I need you, you're no where to be found.
I try to hear you, but all I hear is muffled sound.
Your taste goes to waste, and everything becomes bitter sweet.
The back of your head seems so strong,
because only I could ever be wrong.
When the going gets tough, you get going!
VS2.
Should've learnt by now to keep it to myself.
You ony seem to worsen my health.
You've caught me off guard and history repeats itself.
Look at you standing there!
Your abuse tastes like liquor.
Your guard always so strong!
Chorus:
But when I need you, you're no where to be found.
I try to hear you, but all I hear is muffled sound.
Your taste goes to waste, and everything becomes bitter sweet.
The back of your head seems so strong,
because only I could ever be wrong.
When the going gets tough, you get going!
Bridge:
Over the years I have become your personal dust collector.
Sometimes you're absolutely beautiful, and other times I want o shoot you in the head,
and only to bring you back when I miss you.
Now where to go from here?
Chorus:
But when I need you, you're no where to be found.
I try to hear you, but all I hear is muffled sound.
Your taste goes to waste, and everything becomes bitter sweet.
The back of your head seems so strong,
because only I could ever be wrong.
When the going gets tough, you get going!
Saturday, 11 June 2011
Friday, 10 June 2011
my original
this is a song that I wrote, about how screwed up society is these days and the people of it. I began writing it in composition about 2 weeks ago. The class task was to write something using the opening line of "It;s never too late to be who you might have been," using 2 colours and onomateopeia. This is the finished and edited result of what I wrote. song is yet to be titles... and open to suggestions for all you readers who need to comment :)
verse 1:
it's never too late to be who you might have been.
look out the window and what do you see?
sunshine and blue skies above me;
society can be so mean.
SMASH! goes the glass bottle! CLANK! goes his head!
it's never too late to be who you might have been.
look out the window and what do you see?
sunshine and blue skies above me;
society can be so mean.
SMASH! goes the glass bottle! CLANK! goes his head!
SPLATTER! goes his blood! OH NO! he is dead!
pre-chorus:
a little girl is born in blood.
an old man is crying.
turn aorund and what is left?
everyone is dying.
chorus:
so why do we become bypassers to all the casualties.
with A black stain on our hearts, we watch the fire burn.
Pushing past the ignorance, our neighbour turns a blind eye.
You act like you see nothing, as you just walk on by.
a little girl is born in blood.
an old man is crying.
turn aorund and what is left?
everyone is dying.
chorus:
so why do we become bypassers to all the casualties.
with A black stain on our hearts, we watch the fire burn.
Pushing past the ignorance, our neighbour turns a blind eye.
You act like you see nothing, as you just walk on by.
VS2.
It's never too late to be who you might have been.
A woman pursues vengeance.
her dark passenger takes over.
she succumbs to an illusion!
as a man's knocked out by a crowbar!
Oozing are the pussy scabs! whispers are all he hears. WOOF! go the barking dogs.
We're all cowards to our fears!
Pre-chorus
a little girl is born in blood.
an old man is crying.
turn aorund and what is left?
everyone is dying.
chorus:
so why do we become bypassers to all the casualties.
with A black stain on our hearts, we watch the fire burn.
Pushing past the ignorance, our neighbour turns a blind eye.
You act like you see nothing, as you just walk on by.
an old man is crying.
turn aorund and what is left?
everyone is dying.
chorus:
so why do we become bypassers to all the casualties.
with A black stain on our hearts, we watch the fire burn.
Pushing past the ignorance, our neighbour turns a blind eye.
You act like you see nothing, as you just walk on by.
Bridge:
Living in oblivion, our neighbour wears a mask.
and then reveals himself by hiding his heart.
With our deepest fears reflecting back, our secrets are concealed.
You would rather run then stay and fight.
Your disguise, your only shield.
pre-chorus
a little girl is born in blood.
an old man is crying.
turn aorund and what is left?
everyone is dying.
chorus:
so why do we become bypassers to all the casualties.
with A black stain on our hearts, we watch the fire burn.
Pushing past the ignorance, our neighbour turns a blind eye.
You act like you see nothing, as you just walk on by.
an old man is crying.
turn aorund and what is left?
everyone is dying.
chorus:
so why do we become bypassers to all the casualties.
with A black stain on our hearts, we watch the fire burn.
Pushing past the ignorance, our neighbour turns a blind eye.
You act like you see nothing, as you just walk on by.
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