I’ve been a dreaming – afraid ‘cause it’s seeming that now after all the years
That a decade apart took a toll on my heart and it’s holding you half as dear.

I can still see that night when I first fell for you.
We were kids – never having been where we were going through.
Since then, I’ve been missing you.

But oh, could it be that I won’t notice when you’re near me when we used to 
Blush instead of speak then talk for hours about who we’d be?
We had reasons to know what would come and none to fear.
But none of it seems quite as clear after ten years.

I’ve been at war for you – siege on the shore for you – well at least it’s for who you were.
If my darling’s a goddess, I’m strong when it’s hardest – when other men are falling through.

I can still picture your face and I’m glad I can.
What’s a war… no – without a hope of beauty, what’s a man?
I’m weathered and worn and I’m sick of sand.

But oh, could it be that I won’t recognize you, baby?
Could beauty up and flee and deem our fighting all for nothing?
Even young eyes grow dull after many tears.
Here’s to hoping yours glow just as clear after ten years.

So here we are, Helen.
I’m honestly telling you
Are not who I thought you were.
I married a statue
Proposed to a moment
No, I never met a girl.

I can still see what I saw when we won the war.
I think it was you, but not at all the you that we’d been fighting for.
I’d shed blood for a paramour.

Oh, could it be that I wasted heroes’ lives on folly?
Convinced them you were she who died last decade, and I’ve been stalling.
I thought what I loved was young beauty without a peer.
None of it seems quite as clear after ten years.

After Ten Years (Day 1) 7/23/17

I saw a yellow Bus this morning
It looked a little out of place.
Three weeks out of June, such sights are foreign
And better left for a darker day.

‘Cause what’s a yellow Bus in summer
Ain't worth much - it's not like a golden afternoon
It only buys sighs, “darns,” and “bummers.”
A phony sun that says the summer’s almost through.
It's almost through.

“Dad, why do they paint them yellow?”
“Well son, it's ‘cause the kids are blue,
And it's industrially scraped on mellow
That grown ups think gets a fellow through.”

But a yellow Bus in summer
Ain't worth much - it's not like a golden afternoon
It only buys sighs, “darns,” and “bummers.”
A phony sun that says the summer’s almost through.
It's almost through.

It’s almost through.

Yellow Bus (Day 3) 7/25/17

I met a girl named Mary
She’s not like the other girls
From what she knows to what she’s wearing
When their hair’s all straight, hers always curls.

So much for driving one-way
So much for current-borne swim
Well folks, she’s done it again
Mary Contrarian
Hold on she’s hopping the train
Rest of us will never guess when
She goes where no one’s yet been
Mary Contrarian

Everybody falls in love 
And they all fall the same dumb way
I tried so hard to prove I’m not
Like them. Most girls would walk away.

But so much for driving one-way
So much for current-borne swim
Well folks, she’s done it again
Mary Contrarian
Hold on she’s hopping the train
Rest of us will never guess when
She goes where no one’s yet been
Mary Contrarian

Months of the Year

Mary Contrarian (Day 4) 7/26/17

Going over in my head again
Everything I said ‘fore I hoisted sails and headed for the island.
‘Cause I don't get scared - been before, and I came prepared,
But something I've never seen is a sky that's this color green
Or a surface this unfair.

Well and where has equity gone?
Why do Good Fortune and Fame
Go by Squalor and Shame
In the house of the trodden on?

Aren't we all in the same boat?
Don't know when or where the wind will blow
But we're sure that it's there
That still small prick of a hair tells us so.
Aren't we all in the same boat?

Why do the wicked have peace when they sleep,
Plenty to eat, good shoes on their feet,
When I never shunned any good deed, and the wind and the waves are battering me.

Aren't we all in the same boat?
Don't know when or where the wind will blow
But we're so sure it ain't fair
How could we know we weren't there
When you spoke wind into earth’s throat 
But aren't we all in the same boat?

Same Boat

Same Boat (Day 5) 7/25/17 [first draft]

Wrote this one between 4:00 and 5:00 am 
:P

I’ve got the nods when I wanna say no.
Been up and alone for hours.
I’ve said no to my eyelids – said, Don’t you dare close.
I’ve scolded my phone’s losing power.

Oh hush now
I’d like to pretend it’s okay
Oh shush now
Can’t say yes, I can’t rest.
Gotta wait for the coming day.

I’ve got the nods when I’ve no good ideas,
No pictures or stories to take from.
I’m painting a series of purposeless smears
And declaring each paint stain a great one.

Oh hush now
I’d like to pretend it’s okay
Oh shush now
Can’t say yes, I can’t rest.
Gotta wait for the coming day.

I’ve got the nods when I wanna say no.
Been up and alone for hours.
I’ve said no to my eyelids – said, Don’t you dare close.
I’ve scolded my phone’s losing power.

Oh hush now
I’d like to pretend it’s okay
Oh shush now
Can’t say yes, I can’t rest.
Gotta wait for the coming day.

I've Got The Nods (Day 6) 7/28/17

You must try to turn weird little lyrics and snatches of music into a song.
You must try to make things out of other things. 
He done did it to us :D

Lyrics:

Make lemonade from lemons squeezed.
Make people smile walking down the street.
Give me a quarter, and I’ll make it something sweet.
Make lemonade from lemons squeezed.

Fry an egg when the blacktop gets hot.
Sky’s the limit when your stove is a parking lot.
Making something out of something it’s not...
A simple breakfast, and not a lot hits the spot.
Make it sunny-side-up now and never stop
Making something out of something it’s not.

Please make a garden from these trees.
Make little chirps a song birds sing
Perched in a towering tree grown from my unbelief.
Please make a garden from these trees.

Fry an egg when the blacktop gets hot.
Sky’s the limit when your stove is a parking lot.
Making something out of something it’s not...
A simple breakfast, and not a lot hits the spot.
Make it sunny-side-up now and never stop
Making something out of something it’s not.

7in7 2018

Something It's Not - 7:18:18

Day 7! Woohoo!

Tell me you’re looking for the shore.
Don’t leave again before
You’ve shown me home’s why we fight the war
And staying is what you’ve been leaving for.

Memories coming back –
A picket fence, bermuda grass,
Little hearts beating fast
When mom said Papa’s coming back

From sailing halfway round the world,
He’d hug his sons and kiss the girls
Just to leave another year or more.
I still hear my mother at the door.

She said, “Tell me you’re looking for the shore.
Don’t leave again before
You’ve shown me home’s why we fight the war
And staying is what you’ve been leaving for.”

Twenty years after that,
I travel with a touring act.
Gotta write with my suitcase packed
But where’s the life in all of that?

Match

Leaving For

7in7 is a week-long songwriting challenge - write, record, and post a new song every day for a week. 
Hear some of my other original projects at https://soundcloud.com/compton-mcmurry

Compton McMurry 7in7

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