Today's Theme Thursday topic is "SHADOW."
So many ways to go with this'n, especially for a lifelong fan of the pulps' Kent Allard! But in my never-ending quest to avoid being predictable, here instead is an oh-so-dramatic and pretentious little song which I wrote just thirty years ago, followed by an explanation of sorts. I wish you could "hear" it instead of read it. The tune is best described as Simon & Garfunkel's "Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall" meets the Beatles' "I've Just Seen a Face." (I'm sure that helps, huh?)
Shadows
Lying in the dark,
Waiting for the spark
To set my life's fire ablaze.
Down-and-dirty six-gun,
Six-pack more, and I'm done,
Definitely, obviously crazed.
CHORUS
Shadows, always shadows,
Reaching out, and hiding in,
Words are veiled in sadness,
Wrapped again in madness.
Such, they say, are wages of my sin.
Pity not the One,
Satan's favorite son,
Death's second cousin, to boot.
Fighting off the hordes,
Counting my rewards,
Loneliness is part of my loot.
CHORUS
Shadows, always shadows,
Reaching out, and hiding in,
Words are veiled in sadness,
Wrapped again in madness.
Such they say, are wages of my sin.
© 5/26/1979 David M. Lynch
So, what the hell was I thinking when I wrote that, you may be wondering? (I mean, really! "Death's second cousin?") I wrote "Shadows" when in my early twenties, along with similarly-themed songs and poems like [deep breath, here!]: "The Black Sun Is Dawning," "Not by the Gun," "The Long and Bloody End," "False Hope Smatterings," "Death," "I'll Kick Myself Again," "Ode to a Fallen Warrior," "Flowers in the Gutter," "A Wonderful Way to Die," "Garrote," "Leavin'," "Lived in Hours," "Crime Don't Pay," and "This Must Be the End!"
After reading all of those titles and learning that I wrote them between ages twenty and twenty-three, you may presume that they were the results of some morbid teen angst hanging onto my psyche.
But no.
Actually, at that time, I was engaged in something I light-heartedly referred to as the "Irish Mafia." Some details surface now and then in a story called "My Island."
Those who know me now would scarcely believe I was once the type of person I was then. Colder, angrier... and, as my dear friend Patty once said, the coldness and anger were pretty much without cause!
Patty, quoted in My Island: "What attracted you to your precious Irish Mafia?" Ooh, another spark. Encouraging. "I mean, what's with this whole 'war with the world' bullshit? I don't recall any big injustices in your life that you needed payback for."
(God, I miss her!)
The Irish Mafia was, appropriately enough considering the title of the above song, a "shadow life" of sorts.
Without going into specifics, I must honestly admit that I pulled enough seedy little stunts back then to make me wonder if, every time something goes wrong in the lives of myself or those I care about nowadays, it's just karma biting me on the butt for sins I committed during my younger years.
Further details, unfortunately, will not be forthcoming! Got to have some secrets, don't I?
And with that ominous and frustrating note...
Thanks for your time.
So many ways to go with this'n, especially for a lifelong fan of the pulps' Kent Allard! But in my never-ending quest to avoid being predictable, here instead is an oh-so-dramatic and pretentious little song which I wrote just thirty years ago, followed by an explanation of sorts. I wish you could "hear" it instead of read it. The tune is best described as Simon & Garfunkel's "Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall" meets the Beatles' "I've Just Seen a Face." (I'm sure that helps, huh?)
Shadows
Lying in the dark,
Waiting for the spark
To set my life's fire ablaze.
Down-and-dirty six-gun,
Six-pack more, and I'm done,
Definitely, obviously crazed.
CHORUS
Shadows, always shadows,
Reaching out, and hiding in,
Words are veiled in sadness,
Wrapped again in madness.
Such, they say, are wages of my sin.
Pity not the One,
Satan's favorite son,
Death's second cousin, to boot.
Fighting off the hordes,
Counting my rewards,
Loneliness is part of my loot.
CHORUS
Shadows, always shadows,
Reaching out, and hiding in,
Words are veiled in sadness,
Wrapped again in madness.
Such they say, are wages of my sin.
© 5/26/1979 David M. Lynch
So, what the hell was I thinking when I wrote that, you may be wondering? (I mean, really! "Death's second cousin?") I wrote "Shadows" when in my early twenties, along with similarly-themed songs and poems like [deep breath, here!]: "The Black Sun Is Dawning," "Not by the Gun," "The Long and Bloody End," "False Hope Smatterings," "Death," "I'll Kick Myself Again," "Ode to a Fallen Warrior," "Flowers in the Gutter," "A Wonderful Way to Die," "Garrote," "Leavin'," "Lived in Hours," "Crime Don't Pay," and "This Must Be the End!"
After reading all of those titles and learning that I wrote them between ages twenty and twenty-three, you may presume that they were the results of some morbid teen angst hanging onto my psyche.
But no.
Actually, at that time, I was engaged in something I light-heartedly referred to as the "Irish Mafia." Some details surface now and then in a story called "My Island."
Those who know me now would scarcely believe I was once the type of person I was then. Colder, angrier... and, as my dear friend Patty once said, the coldness and anger were pretty much without cause!
Patty, quoted in My Island: "What attracted you to your precious Irish Mafia?" Ooh, another spark. Encouraging. "I mean, what's with this whole 'war with the world' bullshit? I don't recall any big injustices in your life that you needed payback for."
(God, I miss her!)
The Irish Mafia was, appropriately enough considering the title of the above song, a "shadow life" of sorts.
Without going into specifics, I must honestly admit that I pulled enough seedy little stunts back then to make me wonder if, every time something goes wrong in the lives of myself or those I care about nowadays, it's just karma biting me on the butt for sins I committed during my younger years.
Further details, unfortunately, will not be forthcoming! Got to have some secrets, don't I?
And with that ominous and frustrating note...
Thanks for your time.
