Talk of The Villages Florida - Rentals, Entertainment & More
Talk of The Villages Florida - Rentals, Entertainment & More
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I may have finished this tonight...maybe not
Come the Wind
Come – take my hand We don’t have to be alone Stand – beside me Your skin is my skin My flesh becomes your flesh Come the wind and the wake and the rain Before the fire falls gather all the children Fears - they all have fears Come all the wind and the wake and the rain You know I love you You alone I love you Where are their eyes Empty eyes - can’t they see tomorrow? Where are their hearts – empty hearts can they see a morning? Yes Come the wind and the wake and the rain Come the wind and the wake and the rain One god met our eyes – sad eyes We are chosen people Yes, come the wind and the wake and the rain You know I love you You alone I love you Come, come the wind You don’t have to be afraid Stand Beside me Your skin is my skin My flesh becomes your flesh Come the wind and the wake and the rain Come the wind and the wake and the rain Come the wind and the wake and the rain You know I love you Come the wind or the wake or the rain Fammeree/Brown
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________________ R.I.P. Gary...you will be sorely missed When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. Hunter S. Thompson |
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#2
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Nice
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#3
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Great minds are always awake this time of the morning.
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Do not worry about things you can not change |
#4
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Rich Fammeree died a year ago last May from ALS....a bad death. His daughter was 3. From 1983 until his death we were partners. We learned how to write together...nose to nose. Ritchie and I were were very competitive and rarely gave the other credit...who finished the bit was the writer of record (like this means anything...as we rarely got money for writing -- though Rich had a hit single in Australia). So, I am unpacking boxes moving here - and when my back hurts too much I work to finish our bits. And as Ritchie is dead and can't complain - I credit it to both of us. This started as his bit...I wrote the about 1/2 of the lyrics and the middle 8 (the love you bit...more dissonant than Rich would have tolerated...though it employs a chromatic run that was one of his "tricks'). I'll record it and send it to his wife and daughter....because he was brilliant and his work shouldn't be lost...come the wind...the wake...or the rain.
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________________ R.I.P. Gary...you will be sorely missed When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. Hunter S. Thompson |
#5
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I think it's beautiful. Do you write the music for it?
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. . .there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to enjoy themselves, and also that everyone should eat and drink, and find enjoyment in all his toil. . . Ecclesiasites 3:12 |
#6
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Ritchie and I did
It was one of those nose to nose writes...and at the end of the session we both rushed to draft a set of lyrics...Rich was the closest to a finished set so he was credited...but, he never really finished it. I loved the combination of religion and the erotic. These are rarely paired. That was Ritchie's idea...the children thing I always hated because I thought it was pandering....I've kept it in because Rich was insistent that it was right. The "eyes' bit is mine as well as the "I love you" middle 8. I also changed some lyrics to make it more of a story...in fact...tonight...just a few minutes ago...I changed the first verse....it's now: Come – take my hand You don't have to be afraid Stand – beside me Your skin is my skin My flesh becomes your flesh Come the wind and the wake and the rain Which is consistent with the last verse. The idea of two in love...holding hands before the storm...surrendering to each other and the price of fate...so passionate...and emotionally naked...to each other and fate and god...well....that appeals. Of course, when we started the song we were young and playing out provided many adventures....hard on a marriage. Rich ran though women like a seller on ebay....I wrote this for him... Spider and I Spider and I Sit in dark rooms waiting for the sound We share no words There is a song waiting to be found Spider dancing on strings Forged of Martin steel He beguiles sweet things Who dream spider’s songs will heal them Spider’s life is a web Of mystery and pain He’s turned into rhyme It’s the Spider’s new refrain Spider and I We’re partners Waiting for our prey In these dark rooms We exploit...our...pain We were pretentious and embarrassing romantic. We would hide later in metaphor...but, early on we had not learned that trick. Later Rich wrote this (I added a line or two...but, it's 99% his)...and when he played it for me...well, I about ready to stop writing because I could never match him... Silence In Your Eyes In a languid haze – Elysian gate I shade my eyes And two lovers rest On a simple bed Of sorrel leaves and spent desire Silence in your eyes In a second take of the last embrace You would not leave – alone We could close our eyes To a faint disguise we’d wear to hide From time – from fate Silence in the sky Silence in your eyes If a written line could materialize Into a wish – I’d know where you’d gone For a silver thread That I thought we’d shed Is still tied to my wrist To you Silence in the night In your sighs Silence in your eyes Just to annoy him...I responded with this....it's in DADDAD...very modal and powerful... Nightswimming We slept, very well, on sheets Fragrant with the scent of our evenings together ever... And in dream, We were lit by the moon, Drawn by the tide, so wet with feeling How could I resist each claim of delight? Each wave that draws us to deep waters Tonight the plaza echoed with your cries The English wives below pretending it was TV We awoke Restless in the day...waiting for the night We sat there laughing laughing As we watched the tourists lying there Sleeping in the sun So pink and large...bleating eating For me, I long for evenings of delight To kick and splash and thrash And taste the salty water Each breath we hold could be our very last Don’t leave me all alone In the depths of this swimming Nightswimming Nightswimming Into the depths we're called Into the depths we're called Night waves caress me with your strength As the dark ascends The shoreline slips to ether Bathe me in your phosphorescent wake In this pension of dreams I must be sleeping Dreaming Into the depths we're called Nightswimming So much for all this nonsense...all memories and I at very tired and in pain from shlepping boxes. Night.
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________________ R.I.P. Gary...you will be sorely missed When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. Hunter S. Thompson Last edited by Geewiz; 01-05-2013 at 05:30 AM. |
#7
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Ok, before you came up with the ebay metaphor, I was thinking this really was a song for his wife, he being the wind after he had passed on......
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Closed Thread |
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