Crowe's Songwriting Collection

Alo · 12-05-2006, 02:20 AM

I like the lyrics, but while reading it, it had a P!ATD rhythm. But that's probably just me.

Crowe · 12-05-2006, 02:26 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by jibber

She waits, she's naive,
That stupid knight has,
Yet to arrive on golden steed.
Will he ride to find her and if so,
Will he know the way home?

that line sticks out for me for some reason. i guess it just seems less mature than the rest of the song, but other than that, i really like it. like you said it's not your usual style, but you've done a great job with it, i'd actually like to see some more from you in the same style.

Yeah you know what I actually had an interesting time deciding whether to keep that line. From the character of the naive girl, it fits. As for my own writing style, I'm usually much more descriptive. However, that verse is the thought of the character, and not my own thought. In her mind, she would be thinking - where is that stupid knight - and my songs are almost completely and utterly character driven... but you're right...

Alo · 12-05-2006, 02:29 AM

^It's not really clear that it's her thought. It's more as if you're describing her, and then the knight, as a narrator.

Crowe · 12-05-2006, 04:19 AM

Still trying out new things. More of a poem, or spoken word than a song really... but you know... the transcendence of medium and what not.

An Alarming Absence of Silent Nights

Two pairs of eyes twitch,
Hidden behind their rosy plot,
Two pairs of ears wishing,
They had forgot.
Twenty fingers tighten
Into a bloodless knot.
And while these hands are wraught,
Compound the sounds of,
Passion fueled by bodies hot,
And liquor down the throats,
Of those without their thoughts.
These nights are the ones,
Where sister and sister alike,
Sitting on the floor of their,
Room. Clasped hands resembling,
Four iron locks, raised to their,
God for whom they have sought.

Sleep. Sleep.

Up those oaken stairs,
Were they curious to know,
Mommy lays limp legged as,
Her bed shakes to and fro,
These squeaking sounds echo,
Through the floor, Mommy's
Deed of darkness is causing her,
Children to shrink back in horror.
And though her eyeliner is dripping,
Down her cheeks due to a c0cktail,
Of bodily fluids and she grits her teeth.
Two more weeks til payday comes,
But it's not enough to fight off the,
Bills. Her extra money comes by way,
Of weary travelers who like the,
Curve of her hips in the neon glow.

Sleep. Sleep.

Down those oaken stairs,
Were mommy curious to know.
Her daughters sing to themselves in bed ,
In a mixture of laughter and weeps,
Lullabyes created so that those poor,
Children can succumb to the safety of sleep.
Yes, mommy loves you they hear God say.
And she wishes she could be singing you,
To sleep at the end of every day.
These strangers are scary, these
Strangers aren't kind. But these children
Are careful of their wandering eyes.
Stay out of the way, thats what,
Mommy says. We need some time
Alone, to pay for our dinner.
We need some time alone, so go,
Play with your sister.

Sleep. Sleep.

The heavy footsteps, the,
Familiar sounds and smells,
Sweat and salt, panting and the like.
Leave the house without love,
At the end of every night.
After a shower and a bit of crying.
When mommy convinces herself,
That it wouldn't be right dying.
She crawls onto the mattress with her,
Two daughters. She feebly grasps their,
Hands and sinks into sleep.
With the pain between her legs,
She laughs at the thought that,
At least it's easy keeping her eyes closed.
As her eyelids shut down.
The steady heartbeat from her daughters,
Gives her that hope which,
Helps her go on.

Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.

R. Crowe

sleepy jack · 12-05-2006, 05:43 PM

This was good, i'll post a more proper response later when i'm not feeling so weird.

jibber · 12-05-2006, 10:16 PM

^ yeah that's the impression i got from it, which is why it stood out for me

DearJenny · 12-05-2006, 10:17 PM

silly emo lyrcs setion!

sleepy jack · 12-05-2006, 10:25 PM

Alright, this is probaly one of the best things i've read by you its very sad but the imagery is beautiful, I don't have much else to add..

DearJenny · 12-05-2006, 10:26 PM

Its beautiful....I actualy shed a tear but ing the state im in now thass not too hard.

Crowe · 12-05-2006, 10:40 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by CityLightsLikeRain

silly emo lyrcs setion!

Ah, this isn't emo. Emo is now designated by over the top, personal reactions to situations and the sound of the actual music. This is more symbolic and a look at three very different people, a microcosm as it were. And instead of a personal reaction, it is told from the point of an omnipresent narrator. The point of the piece is to remind people that they are not alone, though situations may seem dire.

That being said, I also hate the label emo - every song ever written has an emotional attachment whether it's My Chemical Romance's "Helena", Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven", Chuck Berry's "Maybelline", David Bowie's "Queen Bitch", or even Andrew W.K.'s "Party Hard".

I think the term "emo" is a tool for hipsters to further alienate themselves from people they see as conformists or whatever the label is now. I find it unfortunate that I have to use that term on a daily basis to describe certain bands and only to recieve a look of disgust as soon as it leaves my mouth.

Sorry Rant. This is not emo. But I like emo, so even if it were - w00t w00t.

12-05-2006, 02:20 AM	#211 (permalink)
Alo Scarf Join Date: May 2006 Location: Brighton, UK Posts: 715	I like the lyrics, but while reading it, it had a P!ATD rhythm. But that's probably just me. __________________ I rocked my shoelaces untied

12-05-2006, 02:29 AM	#213 (permalink)
Alo Scarf Join Date: May 2006 Location: Brighton, UK Posts: 715	^It's not really clear that it's her thought. It's more as if you're describing her, and then the knight, as a narrator. __________________ I rocked my shoelaces untied

12-05-2006, 04:19 AM	#214 (permalink)
Crowe Music Addict Join Date: Dec 2005 Posts: 699	An Alarming Absence of Silent Nights Still trying out new things. More of a poem, or spoken word than a song really... but you know... the transcendence of medium and what not. An Alarming Absence of Silent Nights Two pairs of eyes twitch, Hidden behind their rosy plot, Two pairs of ears wishing, They had forgot. Twenty fingers tighten Into a bloodless knot. And while these hands are wraught, Compound the sounds of, Passion fueled by bodies hot, And liquor down the throats, Of those without their thoughts. These nights are the ones, Where sister and sister alike, Sitting on the floor of their, Room. Clasped hands resembling, Four iron locks, raised to their, God for whom they have sought. Sleep. Sleep. Up those oaken stairs, Were they curious to know, Mommy lays limp legged as, Her bed shakes to and fro, These squeaking sounds echo, Through the floor, Mommy's Deed of darkness is causing her, Children to shrink back in horror. And though her eyeliner is dripping, Down her cheeks due to a c0cktail, Of bodily fluids and she grits her teeth. Two more weeks til payday comes, But it's not enough to fight off the, Bills. Her extra money comes by way, Of weary travelers who like the, Curve of her hips in the neon glow. Sleep. Sleep. Down those oaken stairs, Were mommy curious to know. Her daughters sing to themselves in bed , In a mixture of laughter and weeps, Lullabyes created so that those poor, Children can succumb to the safety of sleep. Yes, mommy loves you they hear God say. And she wishes she could be singing you, To sleep at the end of every day. These strangers are scary, these Strangers aren't kind. But these children Are careful of their wandering eyes. Stay out of the way, thats what, Mommy says. We need some time Alone, to pay for our dinner. We need some time alone, so go, Play with your sister. Sleep. Sleep. The heavy footsteps, the, Familiar sounds and smells, Sweat and salt, panting and the like. Leave the house without love, At the end of every night. After a shower and a bit of crying. When mommy convinces herself, That it wouldn't be right dying. She crawls onto the mattress with her, Two daughters. She feebly grasps their, Hands and sinks into sleep. With the pain between her legs, She laughs at the thought that, At least it's easy keeping her eyes closed. As her eyelids shut down. The steady heartbeat from her daughters, Gives her that hope which, Helps her go on. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. R. Crowe __________________ Last edited by Crowe; 12-05-2006 at 10:57 PM.

12-05-2006, 10:16 PM	#216 (permalink)
jibber Freeskier Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: Istanbul was Constantinople now it's Istanbul not Constantinople... Posts: 1,536	^ yeah that's the impression i got from it, which is why it stood out for me __________________ What you've done becomes the judge of what you're going to do -- especially in other people's minds. When you're traveling, you are what you are right there and then. People don't have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road. William Least Heat Moon, Blue Highways Your toughest competitor lives in your head. Some days his name is fear, or pain, or gravity. Stomp his ass. HOOKED ON THE WHITE POWDER

12-05-2006, 10:17 PM	#217 (permalink)
DearJenny Raptor Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: Metro Detroit, MI Posts: 1,321	silly emo lyrcs setion! __________________ So here's to living life miserable. And here's to all the lonely stories that I've told. Maybe drinking wine will validate my sorrow. Every man needs a muse and mine could be the bottle.

12-05-2006, 10:26 PM	#219 (permalink)
DearJenny Raptor Join Date: Mar 2006 Location: Metro Detroit, MI Posts: 1,321	Its beautiful....I actualy shed a tear but ing the state im in now thass not too hard. __________________ So here's to living life miserable. And here's to all the lonely stories that I've told. Maybe drinking wine will validate my sorrow. Every man needs a muse and mine could be the bottle.