"Darling" - A New Song

At the Easter celebration at my parents' house last night, my father's mix was putting out one good song after another. It was The Ramones, then it was Elvis Costello, then it was Bobby Darin. But then there was a good block of doo-wop tunes and oldies, and it was just one sentamental guy after another promising a girl "the good life."

Well, once I got home, I went immediately to the basement and started playing guitar. I can't really play guitar, but I can manage the most basic possible strumming patterns most of the time. By midnight, I had written half a song (with lyrics from prior poems I've penned, which I've realized I do more often than I should). Then Grant came home and he wrote a poem while I played music. So, naturally, we got drunk on bourbon and mixed the two, and then I finished the song sometime around 3 a.m.

The song's called "Darling" for now. It's unpolished (and I can't sing like a real person), sure, but, hey, it's a song put together from start to finish in just a few hours. That's pretty neat, right?

"Darling"

by Jake Kilroy, featuring Grant Brooks

It was the week I couldn't sleep.

You were out of town and the dog kept me company.

I slurred my words as I cooked with wine.

Sometimes, I can't stand this heart of mine.

Darling, I built a fire for you

with hands that do shadow puppets too

as well as hold candles, cup water, fix cars,

stir pasta, wash windows and point out shooting stars.

Let me whisk you away

to the same fields that you grew battled up on.

Let me build us a house

from the trees that cracked during your favorite lightning storm.

Let me burn those bridges

of friends that forget your birthday every single year.

Let me mouth off to the men

who said you'd look good as someone else.

From the steeple I built in my room,

I prayed to myself for the answers to unasked questions.

I wrote about my hands shaking before,

and I wrote about my heart breaking as a kid.

But my eyes have grown weary of the lines in the road.

I'm having such a hard time finding way my home,

not that I ever had an idea of where that was.

I never raked the same yard twice.

I kissed girls on nights I should've stayed in,

and I shared glass bottles with friends

that were out looking for the same sea-lost ship.

I spent those early days like a heavyweight

spends the hours leading up to a fight,

sleepless and wistful.

Give me the wood pirates. Give me the flower boats.

Give me the Holy Grail, filled with the blood of youth.

Smear it across my mouth like a clown grin.

Put me in a tux and tell me where the party is.

Let me whisk you away

to the same fields that you grew battled up on.

Let me build us a house

from the trees that cracked during your favorite lightning storm.

Let me burn those bridges

of friends that forget your birthday every single year.

Let me mouth off to the men

who said you'd look good as someone else.