They grin.
They fly.
They scream.
They cry.
They whimper.
They grieve.
They sing.
They breath.

They go back and fix
The words they misspell
They sing to their heavens
For those that fell

They bring all their worries
To their churches with awe
They whisper to God
Their Buddha, their Krishna

They take all their worries
to the doctors with a sneeze
They lay down their swords
and fall to their knees

Who are they you ask
It's you, it's me
It's everyone here
It's this flower, this tree
It's the bee buzzing by
With pollen on her knees
The whisper in the wind
And the truth we all see

They grin.
They fly.
They scream.
They cry.
They whimper.
They grieve.
They sing.
They breath.

They sit down to pray
To shadow the ways
Those prior have taken
An oath and to say
Their intentions are near
All around 'em they sit
Stood up in the clear
To accept is it fit?

We grin.
We fly.
We scream.
We cry.
We whimper.
We grieve.
We sing.
We breath.
We grin.
We fly.
We scream.
We cry.
We whimper.
We grieve.
We sing.
We breath.

Not sure if I'm remembering
It's been a while since
Can almost see the words exactly
If I give my eyes a squint
I was sitting in the sunlight
Out on an old park bench
I recall it on a t-shirt
All gray and faded and holy

It took a moment for eyes to focus
On what the words all meant
Could see them all so clearly now
No guessing what they said
My mind can see the picture now
Guitars and words and notes
It's not inside the wooden bones
Or from the neck of ebony tones
They come from somewhere else you see
The music's from up there in me

I'm sure now I'm remembering
It's been a while still
Can see the words exactly
Sitting on the window sill
Standing in the moonlight waiting
Binging on a phrase
I still remember that t-shirt
All gray and holy and faded

The ethos holds all the words
That could ever be
It holds the phrases, pickin' licks
For all our eyes to see
If your eyes are held-a-shut
Won't see what flies right by
The moment'll pass right by your face
Now you're just lookin' at the sky

It took a moment for eyes to focus
On what the words all meant
Could see them all so clearly now
No guessing what they said
My mind can see the picture now
Guitars and words and notes
It's not inside the wooden bones
Or from the neck of ebony tones
They come from somewhere else you see
The music's from up there in me

Here is song #2 from the 2020 RPM Challenge.  That's 10 songs or 35 minutes of original material written and recorded during the month of February.  The key here is to not wait for inspiration.  If you wait for it, it'll never come...or rarely anyways.  This has been a fun experience and at this point I have three songs either finished or nearly finished.  I'd say it's been a success already.

Below you can listen to everything I've posted to the site thus far.  Enjoy.

The tapping like the beat of a failing heart slows to a halt.  
"Next Stop Westport!"
Jolting to a halt head dizzy from the shaking writing shaking stopping shaking breaking the silence along the tracks and then it's gone.
"Next Stop South Norwalk!"
Clicks and pops under feet.  Giant trestles bend and give just a little under the weight.
"Next Stop Rowayton!"
New passengers every stop and old ones getting off.  His accent different from the one before.  A couple this time.  Questions answers questions thoughts as the door between the cars opens with a sudden racket of the rails.
"Next Stop Darien!"
Financial chatter dinner talk reminiscing friendly walks internal dialogue drones on.  The sun it draws closer to the water as lights come on in windows passing far and alarm bells ring when the doors shut closed.
"Next Stop Noroton Heights!"
Criss-crossing streets with headlights shining crossing under bridges below.  Above the trees the daylight slows blowing clouds turning in for the night.
"Next Stop Stamford!"
Reflections in the windows bring scenes to life from both sides at once.  Silhouettes dancing from right to left in the waning sky.  The fading signs of graffiti look like dancing cave drawings in this light, dancing along our way to the city.
"Next Stop Greenwich!"
Incandescent lights light driveways overlooking train tracks, bridges, over passes under trestles.
"What time do we get into the city?"
Startled from my awakened slumber.
"Next Stop Harlem onto Grand Central"

We're killing our babies
We're drugging our daughters
We're sickening our sons
There's poison in the water

Pacing up and down the foyer
Weak confused not herself
Bridging thoughts from before
Her stumble down the wooded plot

I let her drink from which she waded
Ran to the bank but she didn't go in
It's like she knew we didn't see it
Cascading waves all brimming with sin

Shaking she began to fall
Chased by a grizzly ready to maul
Without strength can't move your legs
Like a scream you dream to break

We're killing our babies
We're drugging our daughters
We're sickening our sons
There's poison in the water.

​It's on our shoulders this deathly struggle
Drunk on pesticides genetics
When you mess with natural orders
She bites you back with razor sharp fangs
She drinks the blood you spill to get richer
and feigns her empathy downstream with death water
We're killing all our sons and daughters
There's poison in the water
There's poison in the water
There's poison in the water