I used the tools under "The Muse" section of the February Album Writing Month site at muse dot fawm dot-org.
When I called up a "plot spline," it suggested: “Write a song in first person ("i/we") in which the main character is addressing the listener. the story takes place in the past, and the scene is an abstract, undefined place.."
When I asked for a "struxxure," it gave me “verse-verse-bridge-verse-bridge-verse.” I didn’t feel like that would fly, so I got a new one: “intro-verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-verse-chorus"
When I asked for a "lyricloud," I got these words: “bats belief bleeding bury drugs ear faces folk god hair hill love made makes needy overdose paltry picture pictures pity poem raise regret room vicariously watch"
Out of the words generated by its "titular" title generator, I liked the words “bondage forever” best out of "note out,” "cigarette, solution zero,” "prepare the bethlehem,” "dragons'll,” "gallery madness,” "what goes your french,” "wave from roads,” "winds to panic,” "catalyst bitches and seeds,” "so early,” "through the creation,” "light cleansing,” "only necks,” "died 67,” "ain't no rat,” "won't bless ill,” "bondage forever,” "outta,” "yeh shooting” and "sir 7th gotta"
lyrics
Threads from threads, thoughts from heads
Lives from the dead, from what has been said
I could tell you where it happened
but I’m not exactly certain it would
tell you: what’s named is not defined
I could tell you why it originated
except to pull back a curtain on its
beginnings might leave it misaligned
All I want to remember is bondage forever
The connection that remains despite constraints
Blood released in these arteries and veins
All I want to remember of freedom is never
Those ties that transfixed me below and above
Those eyes that bound me as we made love
Blindfolded in the back of the vehicle
I don’t remember what I was wearing,
only that the windows were open and so was I
Suddenly I was on a hill bleeding belief
and needy of pity, a paltry poem in my ear
escaping my mouth like bats against the sky
At some point it made sense to bury regret
Vicariously watch the pictures on the screen
It was only a matter of time before we met
a matter of time until I learned what you mean
I raised the possibility of an unreliable memory
only one in a series of regretful recollections
caused by faces far away and then too close
But I was overruled by hosts of influences
Anonymous voices both loft and hi-res
Asymptotically approaching an overdose
I’m a singer-songwriter using guitars and keyboards to craft distinctive dispatches from intimate interiors, vast exteriors
and all points in between. Drawing on years of pop, soul, indie, folk and dance-music fandom, I try to turn observations and narratives into succinct sonic snapshots....more
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