September 4th, 2020
I'm Sticking With YouI'm sticking with you 'Cause I'm made out of glue Anything that you might do I'm gonna do too You held up a stagecoach in the rain And I'm doing the same Saw you hanging from a tree And I made believe it was me I'm sticking with you 'Cause I'm made out of glue Anything that you might do I'm gonna do too Moon people going to the stratosphere Soldiers fighting with the Cong But with you by my side, I can do anything When we swing, we hang past right and wrong I'll do anything for you Anything you want me to I'll do anything for you Oh, oh, I'm sticking with you Oh, oh, I'm sticking with you Oh, oh, I'm sticking with you Oh, oh, I'm sticking with you Oh, oh, I'm sticking with you Oh, oh, I'm sticking with you Oh, oh, I'm sticking with you I want to be able to write words that read like Picasso's pencil drawings. I want to build multitudes between commas, a universe from stop to stop. Turn the page and reveal a new world is revealed. Words like music, words like art. Lover, You Should've Come Over. Looking out the door I see the rain Fall upon the funeral mourners Parading in a wake of sad relations As their shoes fill up with water Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong But tonight you're on my mind So you never know Broken down and hungry for your love With no way to feed it Where are you tonight, child You know how much I need it Too young to hold on And too old to just break free and run Sometimes a man gets carried away When he feels like he should be having his fun And much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one So I'll wait for you, and I'll burn Will I ever see your sweet return Oh, will I ever learn? Oh lover, you should've come over Cause it's not too late Lonely is the room, the bed is made The open window lets the rain in Burning in the corner is the only one Who dreams he had you with him My body turns and yearns For a sleep that won't ever come It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles when I slept so soft against her It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever Well maybe I'm just too young To keep good love from going wrong Oh... Ohh... Ohhhhh... Ohhhhhh... Ohh..... lover, you should've come over Yes, yes, I feel too young to hold on And I'm much too old to break free and run Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage I've done Sweet lover, you should've come over Oh, love well I'll wait for you Lover, lover, lover Lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover Lover, lover, lover you should've come over Cause it's not too late These are the words I wish I could write. Lover, You Should've Come Over. Lover. The one I love. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. Should. Could. Would. Have. To Have. To Have Not. Come. Over. So many different sounds. So many ways of speaking and hearing. Sometimes I feel so Happy. Sometimes I feel so Sad. Linger on... Your Pale Blue Eyes. Linger ooooooooooooooooon... Your Pale Blue Eyes. My Mountain Top. Thought of you as everything... I want to write stories that people can't put down, with characters they believe are real, in worlds that they can see in their eyes. I want to inscribe into stone a symphony of simple melodies. I want to open the chest of the English Language and divine its secrets, spreading them bare for all to see. Skip a life completely. Down for you is up. I'm moving to paper now. On paper I wrote some of my favourite words, and watched a video that taught me how to draw hands, or rather, the basics of how to learn to draw hands. Start with a slightly off rectangle, four digits that splay outwards, rounded bottoms, flat tops, simplify the nail, too much details makes hands look old. Sausage. A long word with a beautiful sense of reflection without being a palindrome. Especially in the French saucisson. The soh-see-soh comes together so cleanly in the mouth without spilling out. Candle. So much simplicity in a word that sparks a considerable amount of imagery. Warmth, light. Fragility. Structure. The word implies the thing. You could stand on this word and it would hold your weight. The two Ts act as a foundation for whatever you're building upon. Beetle. Three Es. Mouse. Mouse and house are wonderful words. Lemon. This is the word that always, always springs to mind when someone says think of a word, or think of something. Usually lemonade. Lemonade. I can't escape the word lemonade it is buried deep in my subconscious and I have no idea why. Partridge. A fat bird in a tree. Alan Partridge. Implies a lot of comedy without the comedian. The same way pigeons and pheasants (all P birds) do. Flamboyant. Poignant. Has no right to be a word. Comes from Latin via French. Prick or Sting. Quite satisfying to type as well, you can run across from the P on the right to the G in one fluid movement. poignant. Bounce of the A and roll back. On that theme, I've always thought Where is lovely to type, and there, here, all those ERE words. Always is Rubbish. Miracle. Also, Wonderful. Especially wonderful. I have often said that that word doesn't get the attention it deserves.
©2007-2021 Benedict Esdale