Throw Out The Old

bahamas Uma

1.His name will make the papers just once more

feeble now, excused from play

Find the paper plates strewn on the floor

give the cats to different homes

get around to that one day

All the best of times All the left behind

Learn the weather, preach the word of different minds

For control and fear we say

He wants to throw the old out of the house.

  1. As the clippings brittle now    and the feeling goes awayPiece by piece, the holes are gone

    they are gone, lost, another day

    Pain and smiles and songs and then complain

All the best of times All the left behind

Learn the weather, preach the word of different minds

For control and fear we say

He wants to throw the old out of the house.

  1. Shine you bright young star   thanks for all you arebrighter shined the never brightened day

    in daydreams ever where they stay

    it robs from meaning some of what you say

    when it’s late to stop the falling of the rain

All the best of times All the left behind

Learn the weather, preach the word of different minds

For control and fear we say

He wants to throw the old out of the house.

-Lyron, 11/1/15 1am

The story of someone who’s given up hope on getting better, a sort of anti-“Ulysses”-via-Tennyson about how loss can become a cocoon of self-pity, and a few cryptic sayings that work even better when liberated to open meanings.  A reminder not to defer tomorrow.  I’ve rarely written songs about fear of aging, but the empathetically-drawn character method evokes sympathy for the erosion of even the best of sentiments when one’s personal feeling for them is mixed with dissolution; the harbor of daydreams and plans stagnates in spiritual hollowness.  With its F7 and C verses resolving in drop D power chords, it’s quite a melancholy portrait.  Luck was already tuned to drop-D, with the first verse and chorus written on the back of another sheet on the stand, I gave an interpretation similar in elegiac mood to David Bowie’s late track “Slip Away.”  A melody had been trying to slip my lips since midnight, and finally I engaged it with pen and guitar, where it wrote itself out with little hesitation over the next half hour, chords sequenced and practiced and shuffled and then committed.

With Integr8d Soul songs, sometimes the insight nestled within the most miserable state provides clues to any hope.

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