Here's something you might be interested in.
(Lyricist's note: these lyrics accompany the story "A Typo of a Peculiar Type." Also, I can neither sing nor play an instrument, and generally I am about as musical as a Winnebago, so you will have to conjure, or imagine, or provide the beat slash groove. Peace.)
The Ballad of BeFree (but not really a ballad)
we are bones
skins on stone
eyes made of sky
& not to own
dreaming in place
sleep like a race
we're rationing stardust
to save some face
so why do we beat
the blood to our feet?
running the square
in circles so neat
this is our plight
a most humane right
strong as the sun
weak as the night
but she is a gladness
a goodness of badness
a wish & a wonder
of bodily madness
freedom's her charter
blush is her garter
lips are her silk
& fingers her barter
yes, we are bones
skins on stone
eyes made of ocean
& not to own
we dream of new places
sleep through the races
we bag up the stardust
& touch up our faces
but no longer, dear
then is now here
pack up your shades
the fog is so clear
the hour is ticking
the lock needs picking
there is no key
all we have is a guess...yes,
we are these bones
this skin on the stone
eyes made of earth
& never to own
(Lyricist's note: these lyrics accompany the story "A Typo of a Peculiar Type." Also, I can neither sing nor play an instrument, and generally I am about as musical as a Winnebago, so you will have to conjure, or imagine, or provide the beat slash groove. Peace.)
The Ballad of BeFree (but not really a ballad)
we are bones
skins on stone
eyes made of sky
& not to own
dreaming in place
sleep like a race
we're rationing stardust
to save some face
so why do we beat
the blood to our feet?
running the square
in circles so neat
this is our plight
a most humane right
strong as the sun
weak as the night
but she is a gladness
a goodness of badness
a wish & a wonder
of bodily madness
freedom's her charter
blush is her garter
lips are her silk
& fingers her barter
yes, we are bones
skins on stone
eyes made of ocean
& not to own
we dream of new places
sleep through the races
we bag up the stardust
& touch up our faces
but no longer, dear
then is now here
pack up your shades
the fog is so clear
the hour is ticking
the lock needs picking
there is no key
all we have is a guess...yes,
we are these bones
this skin on the stone
eyes made of earth
& never to own