I shot my baby

I've been getting flashes of lyrics again after mostly finishing preliminary work on one called "All to Sea" back at the beginning of May. The stuff that's coming up as of late is a lot different than other songs I've written or ideas I've gotten, and it's even snuck into "All to Sea" as well; a song that started out as a restless plea for a change of pace has become something far more sinister and fractured. Suddenly, Brian Wilson's sun-dappled beaches are becoming Neil Young's "Down By the River," a song about hope and frustration that he wrote in the grips of a 105-degree fever and still carries that sense of immediacy and desperation. Sooner or later I'm bound to even out a little and write a few more Macca pop songs, but in the meantime:

All to Sea

So you flew in by Miami BOAC
I didn't get to sleep last night
I kept dreaming of the coast
And that treble in the sand

The black floor frightens
Seas of legs to the clouds
I've got a salt heart
It just sits on the road

Roadsigns on (to California)
No more pictures (of California)
God

I need something to look at, waves to drown
I didn't get to sleep last night
Drove into the river
Shot my tires, floated up

Onwards to Mecca
Eyes up, hands out

Down to the river
All to sea

Searchlights out (on the water)
Towers of fire (on the water)
Desire

Up to the first chorus is what I wrote in Psychology 323, and that's more or less the first mindset. After that, minus the last chorus, is what I wrote on a sunny afternoon in a café downtown by the courthouse, feeling kind of out of sorts. It's been smoothed out a little since.