The ink is still wet on this one, guys.

I normally have a gap between writing a new song and recording it. It’s not a huge gap, but it’s a few days, waiting for a thursday or an hour or so when the roomie is out of the house so I’m not too disruptive. That’s not a heck of a lot of time to work out the kinks in a new tune, but it is enough to run through it a few times and kind of get a feel for where the most glaring issues are. But, it just happened that today, a Thursday, I finished writing something new that I started maybe 2-3 days ago. (Muse, you are a fickle creature. Some songs, less than a week. Others sit half-finished on my phone for…I don’t even know, they’re half finished, but sufficed to say the number would be in months, not the weeks.)

Anyway, since it’s a Thursday night, I decided to just take my lyrics, hastily placed chords and all, and run with it while I have the chance.  The vocal part isn’t as ‘holy crap is she swallowing the mic’ as the last one (sorry about that one. I was actually coming down with the cold from hell at the time and just didn’t have enough wind in me to give those two another go. Since these are all rough recordings I kind of had a total ‘fuck it. I don’t even care.’ moment) but things are still, well, you know, as jimmy-rigged as they usually are.

Delaware

Where the wide river flows

I can feel the soil with my toes

the sunshine takes color from my hair

and when I look to my side you’re there

 

back then I thought I knew just where I belonged

now I’m not sure I ever knew anything at all

all I really want is to be seen as I am

the way the seasons change

pokes fun at mice and men.

 

And I remember Delaware

the patched up inner tube

and feet dangling in midair

the views on high that made me

see the world through grown up eyes

and the stories that were told

around that old campfire.

 

I grew up like a leaf cast to the wind

wherever I end up is the result of where I’ve been.

You can say that time moves quickly

but there’s a place where it stands still

like it’s in a summer rain at the top of a green hill.

 

Everything you taught me

was learned by smaller hands.

Like how to light a match,

and make an egg, and clean a pan.

 

And I remember Delaware

the patched up inner tube

and feet dangling in midair

the views on high that made me

see the world through grown up eyes

and the stories that were told

around that old campfire.

 

Now that everything has changed

now that time’s taken it’s toll

and I’ve learned how to act my age

all these echoes from the past

turn to pit ash and rain

and a lifetime made of starlight

and horizons you can’t tame.

 

I remember Delaware

oh, I remember Delaware

rolling down a hill with leaves tangled in my hair.

I remember Delaware. Delaware.

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