For my sister…

“The Sense In Always Being Honest”

Words and music by: Chris Demkow 10/13

The sense in always being honest
The strain of everything I feel
The crime is solved with little consequence
…and no appeal

Hope is useless or forgotten
Home left harder yet to steal
The work involved in keeping us intact
…left harder still

Your love is breaking my heart
While I watch your life fall apart

Be honest.


The Sense In Always Being Honest

Today… and all week…. I’ve been constantly bombarded with coverage and commentary of the 50th anniversary of JFK’s death.
Though I was not yet born when these events occurred… They have, nonetheless, had a profound effect on me.
Throughout my adult life, each time I see even a moment of footage from that terrible day in Dallas, 1963 …my eyes well up and I feel somehow lost for a few long moments…and sometimes longer.
I often wonder why that event effects me so deeply.
As I said… I wouldn’t actually be born for many years after… I don’t have any direct connection to the Kennedy family or Washington for that matter. …And American/Patriot? …well …until President Obama …that was never something I felt in a hurry to define myself as.

I think maybe it’s less of just an “American” experience and far more general.
…More relatable in it’s immense (Human) reality.
Something so adored, so overwhelmingly, by so many people… taken so recklessly, snapped off so swiftly…. Then mourned so equally… even Globally.

And there it is I think. …mourned so “equally”.

I guess I believe that this event (maybe similarly, John Lennon’s death as well) is/are a perfect metaphor for a sense of a collective emotional experience… something we all as citizens of the human race feel the same way at the same time. ….that’s strangely rare I think.
Sad really.

In this ever increasing pace and connectivity we all experience daily… what emotions do we all feel the same way?  
Rarer still…
What emotions do we really “ALL” feel equally…and at the same time? 
…fear? 
…worry?

…hope?

   
This song has nothing directly to do with JFK… It speaks more to one of my many sessions where I secretly question the existence of anything greater than my own power to find what I need to survive.







“A Phone Call To God”
Words and Music: Chris Demkow 11/13

Someone I know is hurting
And I need to find some answers
Could you please pick up the phone and help me out?

I’m tired of all the questions
All the riddles, all the lessons
If only you could put to rest my doubt

Cause worry, has never been so holy before
And it frightens me
And praying, has never been my calling
So what is it you need… to answer me?

And I must admit I’m not impressed
If this is you at your best… you’ve work to do… you’ve work to do
And I’m sick of fools who try to tell me… that all I need is deep inside me…
Because of you …well I’m sick of fools

Cause worry has never been this holy before
And it frightens me
And praying has never been my calling
So what is it you need… to answer me?

Now I’m brave enough for her
I’m brave enough for me
I’m brave enough to know now… that all I really need… to know…

…Is praying, has never been my calling
And though it’s true… I’ve thought of you
Worry, has never been this holy… 
…but what she really needs…
…is me


A Phone Call To God

“The Capri Incident”
Words and music by Chris Demkow - December 2013

The stranger and the pearls and the changing tide
Eighty feet of romance and a secret to hide
“Hallelujah” whispered …”He should never complain…
Saving all his money for a rainy day” 

“I love you, I love you to death… Hallelujah” 
…she said

Crawling from the water through the blood, salt and foam
Choking on the memories of the postcards back home
“Hallelujah” whispered… “Had you never complained…
We’d be spending all my money on this beautiful day”

“I love you, I love you to death… Hallelujah”
…she said


The Capri Incident

After more than a year on SC... finally decided to revist/repost a few "oldies" LOL! 
Thanks to you all for all the continued generous comments and support!
Cheers,
Chris

p.s. didn't really see the point in posting the lyrics LOL! ....I mean lyric. ;)

Out Of My Head

Rain

I thought it might be fitting to re post this for the final weekend of January.
...Besides... I've been on this train alone for a few weeks now... could use some company I guess.

Peace.

January Train
Words and music by: Chris Demkow 01/12

I know you agreed
To stay away when you see me turn
I hear your whispers floating softly down
But every word is white and blurred

All aboard this train
All aboard the January Train
All aboard this train
All aboard

I need your embrace
No matter of the darkness on my face
I find it hard to thaw my fears
And all your warmth is bringing me the rain

All aboard this train
All aboard this January Train
All aboard this train
All aboard


January Train

This song is inspired by the countless people who... despite all their personal, financial and other "adult" problems... Still find time to play with, and inspire their children... Still try to shield them from the "Monsters" of this big and scary world... Still understand that being a child should be full of wonder and magic... not anger, fear and worry. 
To those of you I just described.... :)   
...And to all the "children" out there... ;)

From Under The Bed
Music and Lyrics by: Chris Demkow

Hide
No one will find you
And no one will see in your heart

Be brave
This is our hideout from the world
Just you, me and the dark

No ones gonna tell you what you'll be when you are grown
And no one's gonna hurt you in the safety of our home

And me?...
I'll find a way to pay the rent
So laughter...
"Is hereby allowed"

And it's only fair I warn you... If you worry like I do...
Then at this very moment all the monsters might get through

Be brave for me

From Under The Bed

I wrote this song with Ruth Stavric in mind from the very beginning. I was so flattered that she accepted my invitation to collaborate.
I sent Ruth a very rough and "stark" version... giving her complete freedom to write her own lyrics and vocal melody... what she gave me in return literally brought me to tears.
At the risk of sounding immodest... I could not be prouder of how beautiful this turned out.
The profound lyrics and delicate performance of Ruth brought my usual "darkness" to a whole new level. I'm so honored by this magical gift. ...thank you most sincerely Ruth. ...your talents and beautiful heart will forever inspire me.

Please get to know Ruth Stavric and her music.

Thank you for listening.

Cheers,

Chris 


"The Danger Of Living"

(Chris Demkow)
There's no air to breathe
There's nothing to say
There's nothing to heal
There's nothing to save

The danger of living
What's so hard to see
...The danger of giving up
...of setting you free

(Ruth Stavric)
I'll hold my hands up
And turn around
I don't mind 
Falling to the ground 
The stars are shining 
But I can't  see them 
There hasn't been a clear sky
For a long, long time

The danger of living...
I thought I could handle
But the danger of loving you...
It got to me
I'll lay my arms down
And try to surrender
But, I guess I'm hoping
that you'll let me walk free

The Danger Of Living  (Duet featuring Ruth Stavric)

Maybe the only thing harder than living with addiction... is caring about someone who is.


"4 AM"
Words and music by: Chris Demkow / May 2012

It's cold in the night
You've been waiting for hours
The clock's keeping time with your breath
It's a whole other yearning... at four in the morning
Each heartbeat feels closer to death

Oh... I warned you
Now... I mourn you

Maybe your honor...
That hides in the corner...
Will be safe in the arms of your fate
If only you'd honored...
The years that you doubted me...
I might have saved you some grace

Oh... I warned you
Now... I mourn you

It's cold in this life
You've been waiting for years
The clock still keeps time with your breath
Are you used to the yearning?
At four in the morning
Strange how life repeats itself

4 AM

To all my Soundcloud friends and fans...I've been away in the real world for far too long...I know I've got a lot of catching up to do...so many new songs to hear and enjoy... Please forgive my absence and know I'll be by to comment with my usual hyperbole very soon!

Anyway, about this song...

Generally, I'm not one to cover songs... but this one just crept into my head... it's always been one of my all time favorites. So, just for fun... I thought I'd give it a shot. Hope you like it!

...And I hope you're all having wonderful summer!

Cheers,
Chris


"Sara"
Written by: Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac
Performed and produced by: Chris Demkow 07/2012

Wait a minute baby
Stay with me a while
Said you'd give me light
But you never told me about the fire

Drowning in the sea of love
Where everyone would love to drown
But now it's gone
It doesn't matter what for
When you build your house
Then call me home

She was just like a great dark wing
Within the wings of a storm
I think I had met my match
She was singing... and undoing
And undoing... the laces
Undoing the laces

Said Sara... 
"You're the poet in my heart
Never change, never stop...
But now it's gone
It doesn't matter what for
But when you build your house...
Well, then call me home"

Hold on, the night is coming
And the starling flew for days
I'd stay home at night all the time
I'd go anywhere, anywhere, anywhere
Ask me and I'm there 
Ask me and I'm there 

In the sea of love
Where everyone would love to drown
But now it's gone
They say it doesn't matter anymore
But, if you build your house...
Then please call me

Oh Sara
You're the poet in my heart
Never change and don't you ever stop
And now it's gone
They say it doesn't matter anymore
If you build your house...
I'll come by

Sara (Fleetwood Mac)

I think this one almost speaks for itself...

Except to say (to me) it's NOT a song about just a lover or lost love.
(To some, it might be... and that's certainly O.K.)

But, (to me)... It's much broader than that... and a little bit more specific at the same time.

...it speaks more to the moments when you're feeling all the sadness, pain and anxiety that comes with simply remembering a time when things might not be so tough or lonely. ...whom, or whatever you might be missing.... and trying to sort of "reconfigure" your memories.... not quit remembering... or forget.... just adjust.

The lyric "The end of my rope" was first inspired by a conversation I had with Mats Bergman... and with that, came some clarity to the "feelings" I just described...

FAST FORWARD.... upon returning home... I worked for hours and hours trying to write something very much unrelated... something more like an upbeat tribute to my adventures in London.

After being disappointed with everything I was hearing... I stopped. ...I broke for a quick nap...

Then suddenly woke with a strange feeling.... I raced to my keyboard... hit "record"... and this came out (noisy mic and all, sorry).

A magic moment I've experienced only a few times as a songwriter.... Almost completely improvised (sans strings) ...more translated really.  

I hope it brings you the peace it brought me.

For all of you... and especially Mats.

Cheers.

"The Threads Of Us"
Music and lyrics: Chris Demkow

Here comes another day 
And everything you are... 
Is all around the room

I stayed up all night 
And kept my mind upon your footsteps 
And I thought of us

And a hard night 
But I'm mending up despite the sun 
But I'm at the end of my rope

And my words are short 
With very little meaning 
But I'm keeping up with life

But I'm at the end of my rope 
Seeking courage for the long haul 
And keeping up with "me"... without "us" 
And changing all the rules as I go

As I go... 
"All in" or "fold"? 
The changing ...the end ...of my rope

Your world comes and goes 
...with the hours ...and my soul 
The threads of us

I'm at the end of my rope 
Seeking courage for the long ...the long road 
I'm making changes 
...rearranging 
...The threads of us

The Threads Of Us

I've been sitting on this for a couple of months...
Didn't really know what to make of it (besides knowing it was written for my girlfriend Mary... who by the way used to work for the Cleveland Museum of Natural History...hence some of the lyrical theme)...
Anyway, having played it for her... it seemed to have served it's purpose.
And I've sort of overlooked it since. 

I did briefly consider giving this to Broker Jonathan to sing and play guitar (doesn't this sound like him?) ...though I can't say for sure...it was probably inspired by his music after a listen to his work.

Anyway, Mary's been having a bad week dealing with some difficult family issues...

So, I was inspired to share this tonight.

...for Mary. xoxo


"The Holes In Who I Am"  
Music and Lyrics by: Chris Demkow Sept. 2012

I remember believing the world was flat
Making fire with cavemen grew from that

Now, all that I know can't fill up...
All the holes in who I am
...Without you

All the words of the ages...
All the songs and the art...
All the hope of the faithful... 
The moon and the stars...

You're alive... you're alive...

...What else do I need to learn?

Cause, all that I know can't fill up...
All the holes in who I am
...Without you 



The Holes In Who I Am

I had a girlfriend named Zoe in Los Angeles… we met after one of my shows in Hollywood… she was an artist …a bright young girl with cropped platinum hair and big green eyes… she was ambitious and full of interests… wildly open to everything and everyone. 
I, on the other hand, was a hard drinking, arrogant and depressed fucking peacock.
But, she worshiped me… she was patient with my moods, tolerant of my drinking and always present while I rambled on about my own life and goals.
We spent a lot of time together… she introduced me to loads of interesting people and ideas …while never asking for anything… but my friendship.
 
Zoe lived in an old church in Venice Beach, converted into an artists compound. She had at least half a dozen housemates at any given time… everyone from painters and sculptors to photographers and their models… it was so “California”!
I spent a fair amount of time at the church visiting Zoe, hanging out with her clan… even helping out on the random photo shoots …sitting in a fruit tree, holding a light screen next to a nude model perched on the same branch… Never a dull moment!

One night Zoe and I attended a party down the beach… I, as usual, drank far too much… So, I ungracefully excused myself and told Zoe I’d meet her back at her place.
I arrived back at the church and realized I had no key. …Drunk and tired I decided to sit in the courtyard and wait for Zoe. Soon afterward I heard a voice and felt a hand gently shaking my shoulder to wake me up.

The hand shaking me belonged to one of the models that lived in the church… a girl (her name long forgotten) with no real talent, ambition, spirit, energy, humor…just a pretty face and frame.

We… were woken up the next morning, by another housemate... wearing a look that let me know I was no longer welcome there… followed by a voice that growled “put your fucking pants on… and DO NOT pass Zoe’s door!”

I left that day and never returned.

Weeks later I received a letter from Zoe…
The letter did not contain the obvious angry "why, why, why?” ‘s …instead, it contained the most eloquent and truthful observations of a life lived wrong… a spirited and tender explanation of how and why… and finished with a sincere “goodbye and good luck”.  
That letter stopped me in my tracks.

As life moved on… Subconsciously... that letter became my bible…my new instruction manual on how to be a better person…. The shock to my head and heart that reset my life’s rhythm.

I still own that letter… and just the other day I stumbled upon it…  I read it again…and thought of Zoe.  …and my youth.
…Afterward, I reluctantly reminded myself that I’m only human… and …I thanked her for helping me become a better one.


This song is dedicated to my friend Zoe. …wherever you are.
 …I hope you’d like who you’ve helped me become.     



“A Bridge To Zoe”
Words and music by Chris Demkow / Dec 2012

This letter found…
And then (re)read today…
Revealed a bridge…
I never knew was there

And though I’ve crossed it
Maybe a million times
It took til’ now to know
It brought me here

Such strong words…
For a girl so young…
Revealed a gift…
From a love undone

But what does love have to do with our lives now?
…Maybe our hearts still meet on this bridge somehow

So, did you know somehow?
Did you plan this all along?
Did you build this bridge for me?

Cause, though I’ve crossed here… 
Maybe a million times 
I’ve never seen you here til’ now

A Bridge To Zoe

In the light of day…
Is our dissatisfaction unable to be seen?
…or, are we just unwilling to see it?


“Light”
Music and lyrics by: Chris Demkow 01/13

Light enters our morning room...
Sparks the edges of the words we use as prey…
To bait each other’s hearts
…Into feeling our way
…Into feeling our way

But the light does nothing to break the cold
Or define the empty stares as we grow old
Or dull the knives… 
We carry in our backs with pride
Yet we still… try to hide them

This is the sadness
Here in lies the rub
This is the heartache
That occupies our love

And the light does nothing to change our ways
Or let us hear the voice inside that says…
“Have you thrown your life away?”

Light

Is it just me…
Or has everyone just seemed in terrible mood this winter?

...so, I'll leave it up to you...
Is this about a troubled domestic situation? ...or a guy who just arrived in prison? ...or god forbid.... BOTH!
LOL!
It’s good to be back! ;)
………………

“If Bullets Built This House”
Words and music by: Chris Demkow 03/13

If bullets built this house…
There’s nothing worse than this
…The sound of your heart moving on
While I’m crippled with the guilt

If bullets built this house…
Then we’re sharing all the blame
There’s nothing worse than laughter…
While I’m trying to explain

If bullets built this house…
Which one owns the gun?
And if you’re really “serving life”…
Then who’s out having fun?

If bullets built this house…
Then I’m learning to play dead
Cause, what you might think are blanks
Are fucking with my head

If bullets built this house…

Why do we keep holding on?
If everything we do is wrong
And how can we compete with life?
If all our enemies are right beside us…inside us…
Covered in blood and broken glass

Did bullets build this house?

If Bullets Built This House

As I begin to write this I’m suddenly hesitant…
Part of me wants to write a beautiful and fitting tribute to the subject of this song… my mother.
But then I fear two very different things…

One…
 The cliché of simply saying:  “my mom’s the greatest” …or “she is the best mom any son could hope for ”…blah, blah, blah…

And two…
My readers (listeners) won’t really think about anything… beyond saying something sweet… out of respect or assumed protocol.

The real story to the inspiration for this song is not necessarily void of my belief that my mother is exceptional… or unworthy of the kind thoughts… It’s just a bit darker. 

There is something, …more like regret… that tugs at me whenever I think of her…

You see lately…myself, my siblings, friends and especially my mother have been dealing with the stresses and worries that come along with her recent bout with cancer.

She is (thankfully), as of today… and for now… (having completed her treatments)…  cancer free.

But here is the rub… or better yet… the question.

…What now?

You see… (and here’s the regret part) …for the past many years though I’ve remained very close to my mother in presence… I’ve purposely tried to distance myself from her emotionally. …or a better explanation is... that I have tried to shore up my strength for the inevitable loss of her… by not allowing myself to actually need her for anything.

And the funny (if not sad) thing is… I’ve never been able to understand why I’m actually doing it… I love and admire her more than I could ever adequately confess… I think about her daily
…and not for reasons like “I need her to fix my problems” or “make me dinner”
 …but out of real admiration and awe of her strength and resilience. 
She is the “bar” by which I set my goals and moral standards. 

I’m the youngest of my two siblings… yet, I’m the “heir apparent”.
You see, THEY are a whole other story… although they are both well into their adulthood… able to support themselves… feed themselves… tend to their own homes… fix their own problems…
They both let (and sometimes ask) my mother to do all these things for them.
And furthermore… My sister drinks too much… and my brother tokes too much…. 
And equally difficult… my mother denies too much.
 

I think I actually resent her for this fact.
And I certainly resent my siblings as well.

But why? …why should I care?
…If she loves them (us) enough to want to still be there to help… 
Or equally overlook the faults and love unconditionally…
then she should be allowed to do so however and whenever she wants.

Missing these years of quality time with my mother (and dear friend) is only hurting me… and “us”.  ….really, ALL of “us”.

Anyway, that brings us to this song….

The title “Sitting in the Dark” refers to the time spent wondering how my mother would respond to treatment… not knowing anything about anything really.

For me those days were very surreal … I grappled with the obvious worry for my mother… and the drama that often accompanies my siblings… 
But, also with this strange distance I had created between us. 
…being strong seemed almost easy…  strangely… almost cold. 
…was that my “shored up” strength? 
…or just the “real me”?

I feel compelled to give away the mystery of the phrase from the lyric “All I want from her… Is all I want from me” ….

What I want…
 is for her to forgive me. …as I forgive myself.

She’s a mother.  …our mother.  …MY mother.
How could I possibly know (let alone judge) her worries, her pain,  ….her reasons.

All I really know…. Is that she loves me.
…and I’m not wasting another day outside her heart.



“Sitting In The Dark”
Words and music by: Chris Demkow 4/13

An air of calm lives around a restless heart
The weather leaves us sitting in the dark
And as I hand her a bouquet of flowers and say “everything will be alright”
…It’s changing me from one man to another


And all I want from her…
Is all I want from me
A desperate son for his mother
I pray “everything will be alright”      
…”everything will be alright”

Can anyone help break this dark...
With the lights of all the cars going by?
I say “everything will be alright” …but, I don’t know
And I’m praying for the best things I can

And all I want from her…
Is all I want from me
With all my strength… why can’t I take this pain away?…
And hold her close and change the way she feels

Sitting In The Dark

I woke up the other morning in a fantastic “spring” inspired mood! 

It was reasonably warm...and the sun was finally shining!

…I spent a playful hour or so lying around in bed goofing off with Mary while an odd news expose’ of “50 Cent” (the rap artist) was on the television in the bedroom. Though I can’t say for sure (as I was not paying very close attention)… I heard him briefly explain how some investment in water made him a multi-millionaire… other than that… he had (so it would seem) absolutely NOTHING interesting to say.

…My day continued (skip now in my step) with a few errands…  nothing really out of the ordinary… except maybe the more than usual (teenager driven) “boom-box” of a car …windows open…”WOOFING and HOOFING”… “THUMPING and BUZZING” …the “OCCASIONAL EXPLETIVE INSPIRED STREET POETRY” BARKING form the strained speakers! The vehicle RATTLING so much that you’d swear at this light stop light… that fender is coming off! …the BARKED words (?) translating into absolutely NOTHING interesting to say.

…Day moves into early evening… I collect Mary and we decide to go out for a bite to eat… something simple and easy… I suggest chicken wings and a couple of beers! …Mary just shrugs with a lack of enthusiasm… but decides to let me have my good mood and agrees.
We pull into the parking lot… YIKES! …WTF? we think …why so crowded?
We soon remember upon entering… “March Madness Basketball”! and a couple of hundred kids getting drunker by the minute!!! WHOOPING and YELLING…THUMPING and BUZZING!!!!  …and the OCCASIONAL EXPLETIVES!!!!
We’re now too hungry to change venues… so we get seated as far from the bar as possible and try to have a conversation over the nearby THUNDER! The NOISE over our conversation leaving us both with NOTHING interesting to say.
A “couple’ of beers” turns into one… and we decide to go someplace quieter.

The sun is fully set as we enter a small bar we don’t usually haunt… there are a handful of people sitting quietly… though I immediately sense some anticipation in the room …? ……….. soon the mystery is solved….. open mic night …more specifically……..open mic…. POETRY night!
I’m still in a good mood…though slightly less… nothing a Gin and Tonic (or 6) can’t reverse!
…The first “poet” is some oddly un-bashful girl with a strange haircut, the typical array of typical tattoos… a strange gate (almost a limp)… and absolutely NOTHING interesting to say.
…Number two…. YIKES! …a “duck and cover”, “lock and load”, “gunna cap yo’ ass”, “steal your car”, “tell u what it be’ about” looking white kid with a ridiculously misplaced attitude talking AT us as though his suburban upbringing was some life sentence full of hate, beatings and pain! …all delivered with so much “wuss” and lack of rhythm that I thought he might actually be wearing a golf shirt under his “wife-beater tee”.  …and yes… he had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING interesting to say!  

Anyway, a few more cocktails and the “blur” we were after makes the rest of this day and night disappear… 

We arrive home…. It’s late… all quiet.

We settle back in bed as though we’d never left that morning… a little more “goofing off” (no T.V. this time)…. Then just silence……………

Mary leans over and gives me a sweet and soft “goodnight” kiss….

And I say...


I Motherf***'n Love You

The really interesting and inspiring beginning to this piece was the chance discovery of a recording of a Native Inuit woman singing what can not be accurately interpreted into English… but, is best described as a loving lullaby sung to express her joy in the moonlight shining on her children’s faces. 

Thinking about that image led to me reflect what effect the Moon has on me…

To unwind after a long day… I often sit, late at night, outside on a rooftop deck off our house… From there the sky roles out to the west... over rooftops and trees to the edge of the dome of light from the city center just behind me. 
In the summer months the “Big Dipper” sits front and center in the night sky… perfectly framed by the tall trees on either side of me.

Occasionally, seagulls and other birds will float by catching the moonlight on the tips of their wings… and “lightning bugs” sparkle magically… randomly drifting in the cool air.

The sounds of the city and neighborhood that surrounds me fades into a sort of quiet hum…   

This, to me, is the “Kingdom of the Moon”. …My “Kingdom” of solitude.

Memories come easily in this place… reflection inevitable.

And though (reluctantly), I’m quite aware that I’m in the middle of a big city… for these brief hours… I’m all alone.

Many nights I’ll sit there for hours with my headphones on playing “D.J.” to the scene that envelopes me… choosing carefully, song after song …all inspired by the serenity and wonder of my surroundings.  

And on some nights… I’ll just sit there quietly. 
Listening intently to the sounds of the city and nature… ebb and flow… into and out of each other…

Those sounds I hear (real or imagined)… are what I try to express here.


------------------------------------


“I Am the King of the Moon”

Music and lyrics by: Chris Demkow 06/13

The drawn out days  
They come and go
And the shapes evolve
Into sounds of night
In the quiet light of the moon

The mind of a boy
The sounds of “The Golden Years”
The fear I’ve known
The strength that’s grown
I am the King of the Moon

As life moves on
I carry on with a sigh
Memories grow
And all I’ve known 
Are framed by the stars

The mind of a poet
The sounds of “The Way We Were”
The hope I’ve shown
Has built this throne
For I am the King of the Moon

I Am the King of the Moon

There's a lot more to learn about me and my music in the descriptions attached to each song...

I'm thrilled to be part of this extraordinary community.

Peace.

Chris

Chris Demkow

Pinned to spotlight

Popular tracks