Questions, An Early Version.m4a

The Hop by Jyll Bradley (picture), outside the Hayward Gallery refers to going hopping. Working class families would go to Kentish contryside to pick ripe hops for a working holiday

The sculpture's perspex arms reach up and out, seeking the sun, calling visitors to look up. When I first saw it, I just wanted to join them in a near spiritual reaching up.

Towards the Sun explores this feeling - escaping the congestion and smog of London and breathing in the hop-filled air, the summer friendships formed on the farms and simply enjoying the sun.

This was a SERIOUSLY rough mix made in Audacity 😅 but I needed to get it out without seeking literal ✨perfection✨, so please excuse the faults.

Hope you enjoy it!

Towards the Sun

I have no words.
I have no words, for I am young and I am quiet and I am small and I am not significant in your eyes.
I am stupid in your eyes.

And I am told
To wait 'til I am older
To let the grown ups handle this because
This doesn't concern me.
Well it does.
It concerns me.

Just because I stand below 5'5 and so far
My life hasn't been as hard as yours,
You think I don't stand on my tippy-toes to look outside the window
At a world that is burning,
That is broken.

I have no words that are deemed worth listening to, and when I throw a tantrum because you pat my head and pinch my cheeks and laugh
I am told that I should know better, well no.
You should know better.

Because while you turn a blind eye I look
I see the anger and the unfairness and the fear and I'm scared and I ask why

And then I'm told to sit down.
And then I'm told to stay quiet.
And then I'm told to raise my hand.
And only speak when spoken to.

And then you ask why I'm so quiet.

Guess.

There's no point in talking when no-one listens.

No-one listens.
I have no words.

***************************************************************************************
I ended up writing the majority of this piece, then tweaking it to make the narrator sound more childlike, using simpler words and repeating phrases, though I think I could have gone further with this. I wanted the instrumentation to emulate this simplicity, so focused around one chord, on one instrument that I added and subtracted notes from, following the structure of the piece. Most of the instrumentation, because of this, is made up of patterns, echoed in different octaves.

No Words (Songwriting, Piece 1)

Starless and bible-black, your eyes are unclosed
Look behind the eyes, hear the invisible star fall of the night
The chill dreaming wicked on the wall.

Blind as moles time passes
Streaking and needling, trotting silence.

Listen.

The sleep of birds fort winking hallelujah.
The dewgrazed stir of musical wind in the wetnosed yards, you can hear
The dew falling, the town, breathing, the black dab-filled sea tumbling by the- 

Hush. The babies are sleeping.

Dewfall, starfall, night moving like a mouse with gloves
Gloved and folded along the cockled cobbles
Sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack
A moonless night in the small town.

Only you can hear and see pictures of the dead
In watercolours in the silent black
Tidy wives drawn by hand.

Time passes in the muffled middle
The procession slow past
Cobblestreets silent
Hymning their dreams

From where you are, you can hear their dreams.

Dreams

So she...walks up to the bar says can I have a Malibu coke in
With everything considered we're both very nearly broke an'
Still we're out here and all we're doing's pokin'
Fun at every mess we see walk by

And I've
Been standing by the bar soakin'
And though we've been laughing and jokin'
We both wish tonight
Will be alright

And maybe hearts were made to be broken
But I'll always be hoping 
That things'll change

So now she's up to dance and the drinks have gotten her woken
Up singing everything from grime right through to folk an'
Shouting out, she's nothing short of outspoken
And dancing like there's no tomorrow

You know
The way a guy dances over when he's hoping 
For a chance, the way he smiles, words unspoken
But we said tonight
Would be different alright

And maybe hearts were made to be broken
But we'll keep trying and hoping
That things'll change

I find her in the back with new friends and now she's smokin'
He's telling her a story and now she's chokin'
And laughing and forgetting that she's heart broken
Coz she's giving him those eyes

And I -
Oh wait
Oh no
Aw
 
So now we're on the floor round the back and she's just bokin'
All over the place and she's sad and she’s mopin'
‘bout how she's ruined the night, she was hopin'
Tonight might be different. 

And I can't lie I'm broken for her
(Coz he's no where to be seen)
And we’ll just keep on hoping
Next week might be different
(the pattern has never been)
Maybe hearts were made to be broken

*****************************************************************
Rhymes:
Made to be broken
Spoken
Jokin’

Rhyme Scheme:
AAAB BAACC AAD (for 2 verses and a chorus)

I found this task fairly hard as usually when my lyrics rhyme, it is not on purpose, nor consistent through the whole song. Even here, in the last two verses and chorus do not fit the above rhyme scheme. I also struggled to make words like "joking" and "spoken" rhyme. However I am quite proud that I managed to keep the -en suffix as my main rhyme, and repeated words didn't feel overused.

Things Might Be Different

Your smell lingers on your blue t-shirt
The one I got you from the zoo
And though I can't admit how much it hurts
I still recall how you smiled at the butterflies

And I found the yellow ribbon from your hair
The one who’s pair's wrapped round a tree
You heard a song once and you left it there
I hear it flew off in the storm we had last week

Maybe 
We weren't meant to be, but I couldn't see it

And now your clothes hold memories
Little pieces of you that never will be mine
But it'll be alright
Once I clear out all your things

Do you remember those socks you'd wear
The ones that I have sitting here
Where there never was a matching pair and you didn't care
And so neither did I

And look here's that dress you wore once
To the beach that sunny day
Where we ate ice cream after a fish and chips lunch
And you wouldn't stop looking out to sea

Maybe 
We weren't meant to be, but I couldn't see it

And now your clothes hold memories
Little pieces of you that never will be mine
But it'll be alright
Once I clear out all your things

Now here's that jumper from my own hometown
Though we argued it most definitely was mine
You'd always wear it when you were feeling down
And wipe your tears on the sleeve and cry into my shoulder
And I'd hold you until you let go
You let go

Maybe 
We weren't meant to be, but I couldn't see it

And now my clothes hold memories
Little pieces of you that never will be mine
But it'll be alright
I'll just clear out all your things
Keep on clearing out your things
Once I get rid of your things

And say goodbye to the memories
Let go of the little pieces of you

*************************************************************************
I think it's always hard to say goodbye, no matter what the situation, so coming up with a scenario to say goodbye in was even harder. An important thing for me was also to make the chords feel like they were missing something, in the hope to create that sense of longing.

Odd Socks

Singer-songwriter from Kent, writing emotional jazzy songs.

My soundcloud is more for ✨experiments✨ and unfinished things, feedback is appreciated!

For my finished stuffs, check out my YouTube (https://youtube.com/channel/UCGigdRYuygc7FUUsF5ssTiw) 


Dani Osoba

Popular tracks