Finished DFW song

soaked under raincoat,
seems the saints go
wet in the inside out

and who’s god and angel
read the sky codes
fly with the who knows
why and

when you descend, qaids undone,
caught in a raincoat made of stone,
whole alone,
a squall in teacup,
sheet of balsa in cyclone.

dee eff double-you
what we gonna do with you
we’re not through with

dee eff double-you
off to god above-with-you
He must be in love with you
If not you
Who?

All the strangers
we guessed why,
caught in a ball of mirrors
and all
scrawl arrangers
need to fly
caught in the end of days
and just when you feel
something’s wrong
but now that you’re
gone what can we say,
it’s ok,
decipher your worm shapes
and pen you a faded threno-dyyy…

…eff double-you
what we gonna do with you
we’re not through with

dee eff double-you
off to god above-with-you
He must be in love with you
If not you
Who?

END

I can do a real crude demo of this on vocal and guitar if you want. But I’m talking like a one-take sloppy thing b/c I’m not even going to pretend I can sing this in the way I’m imagining. But I have the melody in my head, perfect and complete, came to me in a dream, I’ll tell you about it b/c it’s super freaky.

So I’m in a classroom, waiting for DFW to do a workshop. Nobody has arrived, I’m the only one there. I’m nervous and excited (but mostly just nervous – why couldn’t there be like ten of us?) that I’ll get to work one-on-one with the man himself. But then two minutes later people flood into the room, and soon it’s standing room only. Other extreme. Now there’s 100 people. First too few, now too many.

David comes in. He’s in the middle of speaking and some woman (okay it’s my wife) interrupts him rudely and blurts out a question. It’s not a smart question. David gets visibly upset and his literal words are “Why do you feel you can come in without knocking on the door first?!”

Then he tells everyone “I can’t do this,” and gets up to leave. Somehow I know what he means is he’s going to kill himself. He can’t write or live anymore. I run up to him and say “No, no, pls, you can do this…” and I’m crying, in the dream I literally have tears and this huge emotional outburst that you can only have in dreams. He looks at me, and reaches out to hold my shoulder, he’s moved by my display, and his voice catches a bit, as he looks at me deeply in the eyes and says: “thank you, thank you, but I have to do this.” he turns to go, but then turns to me and says: the song.

“I haven’t had time to finish it,” I say.

“Try D- E- A- D”

“I didn’t know you were a musician. I’ll try it but that doesn’t give me much to go on for melody.”

“I’m not a musician. The chords spell out DEAD.”

I wake and get flushed with chills. So creepy!

I grab the guitar and sing the chorus I have. I don’t really have a good verse so instead I played D - E -A -D and messed with a new verse. Within an hour I had the whole song finished.

DEAD. So weird.

But then I looked at the chorus. The chords in the chorus – I shit you not – when I sing dee-eff-doubleyou, are, lined up, on the button, D-F-A

There is no W chord, but A is the next letter in Wallace.

So fucking weird.

I don’t know if this was coincidence or subconscious.

So that’s why I think it might be cool to share the song, but I don’t have time to primp and make it sound good.
I’ve never been an accomplished singer or guitarist, just a writer. But the song (and) story is so cool, I’m tempted to just
strum through it once on my iphone mic just to show it to you. if you promise not to judge the perf, I will do it

the chord sheet looks like this:

verse:

D-E-A-D
D-E-A-D
D-B-E-A
D-C#-F#-A

chorus"

D-F-A
C#-F#m-F
A-E

I’ll listen to it and won’t comment unless you ask, just post or send me the link whenever it’s done.

still not recorded. not looking for comments nor am i forbidding them. i’m long past that, this idea that my work should be judged or commented on. if it’s written and recorded, it’s done 99.9% of its job. if someone likes it or hates it means literally nothing to me. i’m at that point where if something sounds a certain way, it was intended, and it was for me, not you. but if someone wrote a song about something i was interested in, i’d want to hear it, so that was what my offer was based on

So when do we get to hear this song? For cripes sake it’s been over four months and I’m getting a little tired of waiting.

I guess I never felt it was good enough. The lyrics are just too vague and pretentious. It’s not coming from that perfect place. The subject is precious to me and I want to get it right. It sometimes takes a while to write an important song. Sorry