The Man With No Band
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9/16/2010 9:43:43 AM
Growth
Growth ...
No, I'm not talking about that mysterious looking thing that cropped up on one of your appendages or the girth of your dilly-whacker ... I'm talking about real growth ... ya know, the inner stuff. With out growth there is stagnation and if the stagnation lingers on, there is nothing to follow except certain death. Each day I try to remember this and I know I am far from everything I could be. Comfort is a slow death and one I hope I never accept. As a person, I'm continually working on it ...
As a song writer I crave it. I am a man that has very few, if any, fears ... and yet, there is a sort of discomforting feeling (call it fear if you like) that one could possibly reach a state in which there is no more room for growth ... I'm not talking about as a man, fore there will always be room for growth ... but as a song writer, can one peak out ? ...
With each new song birth there is a feeling of satisfaction ... I like to call it the proud poppa syndrome ... and yet there is always a lingering feeling that perhaps this is the one that can't be topped ... Creation comes in spurts with me, sure I write ALL the time, yet there are periods where I am just writing for writings sake and nothing special appears ... Lately, to keep flowing, I find myself learning to not rely on songs appearing, as they sometimes do, but really working on "crafting" songs ... It's a little out of my comfort zone, but I think I'm finally growing into it ...
Rape the earth
Sow your seeds
Fulfill your desires
any way that you please
Invade her womb
Do your dirty deeds
Steal her treasures
Like a low-down thief
They'll come a time
When you'll find your roles have been switched
Mother nature can be kind .......
but she can be a bitch
Feel her tremble beneath you
It's got nothin' to do with fear
She's showing you her indignation
For what you've done to her all these years
You've had your fun
now the tables are turned
Get ready .....
She's about to spit fire
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