This is the song I want played at my funeral (which hopefully won't be for a while, but ya never know.)
Sometimes, you have what seems like a fabulous idea - and find somebody has already beat you to it. Written a story, a poem, a song that expresses everything you were turning over in your mind. Only, about a zillion times better.
Been tearing my hair out trying to find a way to share the song via a flash player here, to no avail. Click HERE, and then under the words MP3 Song and Song Title, press the PLAY arrow (that's the triangle thingie inside the circle, for you non-techie peops) to at least get a taste of the bleak, melodic beauty of this song as you read the lyrics, below.
Blank Page
Blank Page
Lonely, staring up at me
Daring me to try to be
Simple yet profound
Words alone
For all that consciousness allows
Find I'm at a loss for how
To say just what I've found
I entered through an open door
Left by all who came before
With thoughts so rich yet words so poor
For truth's already spoken for
Reach within
To find a misplaced bit of truth
In love or hate or age or youth
In what prized piece of mind
Close the book
Evasive truth still yet to find
Of rhythm felt by twisted rhyme
When words get left behind
Well something snaps and then you learn
Chasing words is no concern
Then one by one they die and turn
To mild regret and hopeless yearn
Blank page
Lonely, staring up at me
Escaping by apology
From a blank page left unsigned.
The Toy Matinee album (originally released in 1990; re released in 2001 with this as one of the bonus tracks) is one of my favorites, and well worth adding to your collection. Most of the songs are light, catchy pop tunes, not this introspective, although they all have amazing lyrics. Of course, the number of available Kevin Gilbert songs is sadly limited, since like most great geniuses, he managed to off himself way too young (age 29.) Yep, this is all rather dark, talk of funerals, writers' block, premature death...
But darkness is part of writing, too. I recently visited Sark's website - and I adore Sark, don't get me wrong. I find her highly inspirational; I have one of her books on my desk and a poster in my bedroom as I type. I truly strive to live as a succulent and juicy person.
However... I also felt the need for an insulin shot after spending several hours on her site - and I'm not diabetic. Sweetness and light and rainbow-colored unicorn poo can only take you so far - unless you, yourself, are Sark.
Like Kevin Gilbert, if you truly want to be an artist, you need to let yourself go to the dark places, to despair, to pain, to all the terrors and feelings you'd rather not deal with. Not just hang out in the safe warm sunny places.
Facing fears and writing about them - that's what makes writing real. That's what brings the unmistakable ring of truth, even in a complete work of fiction.
What's your funeral song(s)?
