“so i’m writing a song … “

“… and i’m getting a lot of work done.” — God help the girl, “stills

(that song has nothing to do with this song, by the way. the lyric is a nice hook, though.)

(by the way again, i’m not good at writing songs. at all. so don’t laugh. this is just the first draft.)

(also, i am not good at writing music. but i did. sorta. i can sing it, at least.)

(so here it is, my “singing in the car on the way home to lunch” song. a rumination song.)

— — —

there’s silver in my hair

there’s creases in your face

we’ve had so much to learn about

this strange and different place

that years flew by

and children died

but still the world seems new again

when particles collide

maybe that’s just

part of growing old

remembering, revising

all the stories that we told

when we were young

and didn’t know

all the things

we’d never show