Get this noise, compadres. I’m writing tunes and words again!

I used to do this A LOT with Annie when we were together, and then it fell out of fashion for me because, well, it took the immense passion of a strong, loving relationship to dredge the words and notes out of me. Annie was great at conjuring this magic out of my mind.

With Clare, I was just beginning to write tunes again when hypokalemia caught hold of me and her inevitable decline (that started so sadly when she was such at a young girl) stole her from me.

Before her passing, I completed one song, “Clarity (Prospects)” that at least lyrically is one of the best things I’ve penned. I want to practice it and clean it up and then I’ll post a vid and lyrics here at Crimes.

This is a new one where I woke from a dream Tuesday night and scratched down the lyrics. I barely remember the tune, which sucks. What doesn’t suck is the dream I was having was a sweet melancholia of dreaming of Clare and how I can transition into a world where she is in my heart and mind even if she isn’t in this world.

Here are the lyrics for the song “Farfetched”. No chorus, all verses, and I want to finish this one off.

Who Clare is as a human being conjured this magic once again. She has the immense passion I’d lost, and this time it’s not going to fade. Ever. Thanks, Katnis. Toujours.


Did you ever call
Waiting for the pain behind your eyes
To scrape away
The scabbing of your dreams

Is it ever called
A diatribe, one’s soliloquy
Or is it merely painful
When raised above a scream

Coincidental call
Waiting on suggestive montage
Coming from only what’s hidden
Deep within a dream

Recollected fall
The seasons here are static
Concluded for you always
As you pass beyond what seems


The most simple thought can occupy all my time
A simplistic thought can monopolize my mind

Good stuff. I’m having fun again. I’m happier again.