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Lyrics
(8.13.02) This song reflects 6 minutes and 45 seconds of my life. While I play, I think... therefore constantly changing one mood to the next. Its my life as I know it.
After buying a guitar and being determined to learned the thing, I found 2 pieces of paper with guitar chords and taught myself play. Since I was too cheap to go out and buy a pick, I resorted to my fingers plucking the strings. Deep minors switching to majors. I recorded it with my rinky dink mic, so don't laugh.
Hope you like it! Not to bad after 6 months of playing on and off and with no lessons.
Here's the story the talented writer Justin Adkins wrote while listening to this piece:
On a lonely road under the never ending curtain of rain that glistened like crystal in the narrow beams of light probing outward from the battered car nestled in the slick grass into the inky blackness of the night, a small child cries as it enters the world. The parents would welcome it with excitment, but the mother is nearly gone, the last of her strength taken by the delivery and the father staring at his family with lifeless eyes as blood runs slowly down his face from the deep gash on his head against the fractured steering wheel. With a long sigh, the mother lifts her newborn son into her weak arms just as the swirling lights of a patrol car pierce the icy veil of rain surrounding the accident scene.
Ten years later the boy stares at death as it looks back at him through the beady, surprised eyes at the end of the smoking gun in his hands. His nerves still buzz and his ears still ring from the pop of the shot. His mind is numbed by the wet crunch of bone and flesh meeting and melting under the steaming hot shell. He didn't even remeber pulling the trigger, which was still pressed firmly against the back of the pistol by his finger tip. It was all supposed to be for show, just another game he and his best friend were playing. But there would be no more games now. He knew the doorbell would never be rung by the other boy again.
Another sixteen years would come ago, hardening him. Saddening him. His face hangs low, hiding from the icy wind that wafts between the drab, colorless stone buildings of the on each side of the deserted streets. Hiding from the world. Death, despair, pain, toruture. The music of it haunts his ears, playing from each window and up and down each alley. Its the din of the neighborhood. Gun shots and thudding base, children screaming in fear, parents shouting in anger. It's always the same. A basketball rolls in the breeze down the sidewalk past his feet, ownerless...desireless.
Suddenly, a new noise fills the air. A new note in the chorus of the world around him. A lighter note in the melody of the city. He looks up to see a girl crouching at the top of a small stoop. She looks up into the black, dim sky and stumbles foward head over heals to the sidewalk. Beside her, a small needle taps against the pavement as it rolls off the last step, echoing louder than anything else he can hear. He rushes to her, untying the rubber tube strangling her upper arm; he looks into her lost eyes. She gurgles something, racing thoughts jumbled in a confused brain.
The icy wind blows harder against him now. He's running faster and faster up the sidewalk, out of the slums and toward the nearest hospital. He glances down at the girl in his arms. Gurgled phrases escape her blue lips, but they make no sense. He doesn't even think she can see him. Her blood shot eyes roll into the back of her head. Strands of blonde hair crusted with dry sweat, grease, and vomit billow onto her pale face smeared with three day old makeup. Her shirt is torn, exposing the dark bruises on her arms and chest. Marks of self abuse and involuntary punishment by a society that has thrown her away too soon. He gazes at her, listening as her mumbles become softer, distant. He can feel her pulse growing fainter. He can't get over how beautiful she is, even now. Finally, he reaches the hospital at the top of a hill. Stepping inside the sliding glass doors, the song of the city fades behind him. She is torn from his arms and carried away beyond sight.
He sits outside on the curb. Somewhere above him somone plays a tune without words on a guitar. They strum on tight strings a song without purpose but full of meaning. It makes him think of his life gone by and all that has happened. All that he has seen and done and all that has happened. It makes him think of his dreams, and then reminds him of his reality. But most of all, it makes him think of the girl. A soft, tender diamond in the ruff. A source of light and life that like all the others was taken from him. He
realizes how dark his life has been between the wondering chords resonating from the dawn light windows above. As the song ends, the doors behind him open. The girl stands there and smiles thankfully at him. He stands up, gazing at her amazing beauty. Gazing at her life, the way she seems to glow like the rising sun. And he smiles back.
-JustinAAdkins@aol.com
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