When I used to write songs, they tended to start the same way. Last Wednesday it happened again. Walking from Lothian Road to Fountainbridge, I opened my mouth to see what song would come out, and a new one did. Every day since then, I nurtured it by repeating it mentally, trying various lyric ideas to see what direction it wanted to go. Yesterday I picked up a guitar and worked out the chords – in fact it was the old three-chord trick, nothing dramatic there – and tonight I finally decided to try writing something down. The gestation had worked, and while most of what I wrote was new and not what had been in my mind, it was definitely born from those idle, uncommitted musings. If I make it to OOTB on Thursday I’ll play it, and that’ll be a record – first idea to public performance in just over a week. Most of them take a couple of years!
When this mouth is dry and empty
With nothing kind left to say
When these eyes stop gazing all around
And every face seems too far away
Take me down, Sword of Love
Gleaming over me, Sword of Love
Take me down, cut me down
Sword of love, no other reason, just
Sword of love