Fragments
Pieces of Songs
Not everything becomes a song. Some lines stay scraps; some scraps stay truer than the songs they almost became. Here they are — out of order, the way a box of paper keeps them.
There's a crow now at my shoulder I don't question anymore - It's the part of me that watched it When I couldn't see before
— from 'The Song of the Morrigan'
Three o'clock hums in the fridge A halo of light on the tile
— a piece of lyric, scrawled on a napkin
Voice memo — 4:54 PM "If I ever write again, it's not going to be what it was. It's going to be darker" — Something I told my guitar player after the songs stopped. Turns out I was right.
— Voice Memos · 0:43
Headlights bleeding on the highway Every mile looked the same Trying to outrun the ghosts in the rearview With no one left to blame
— from 'The Road'
Sent the song 'Laikin' to her mother. She cried at the bridge. For a moment, it felt like Laikin was in the room. And I think that's the closest a song gets to coming home.
— journal · may
I was steady on the surface While I was drowning underneath When a light came through the darkness Washing over me
— from 'Weightlessly'
Track the vocal first thing, before coffee, before I've talked to anyone. When the lyrics come to me in dreams, I have to get them out so they don't disappear.
— from the studio journal
Barstool gospel — three chords and the bartender as a witness. Keep it dirty. Don't clean it up.
— song idea
Keep looking. Some stories are hiding between the songs.