#1
ok, ok, I know I need to take some time to smooth out these rhymes, they look terrible on the page, still I don't think it's quite as bad when sung especially in a very simple folk style.

Gimmie some input on what horrible aaaa bbbb rhymes you think can stay and which ones have to go. I'd also like to know what people think of the story, if it really makes a good song etc. Of course icomments on everything else are much appreciated too. Feel free to rip away at it, no apalologees needed!

I'll be more than happy to do c4c, fire away!



The son (working title)

we were happy oh, just in our own way
though many worries; slept late into the day
and living right, no reason it all should go away
till something random awful brings a big ol' change of pace

the preacher's son he came to town he stole my girl away
Casting stones he cast me down said I would have to pay
For all the things I'd ever done, just like his daddy'd say
Raised up a big fuss then he was on his way

After he had left the town the girl was left in tears
Saw her own self-same sin raised on all the fears
that slowly sieged her quiet life through all the gentle years
waiting all along the serpent ever slowly nears

she
found a bridge on winter's eve I found a waiting car
then traveling on a highway under maps traced out of stars
I undertook the pilgrimage that sent me very far
lost the home I held so tight to avenge stinging scars

My own life I judge not right I humbly turn away
in ignorance I dare not fight and watch just what I say
The preacher's son he'd gone too far and now he had to pay
His father knew and Father too that things would end this way

In a city full of gray, and much too large for me
I found him and he ran away, down before the sea
the waves all broke in measured pace an ancinet melody
running through the sandy tread he fell down on his knees

preacher's son he begged and prayed and pleaded with all might
the sun sunk down and Vesper rose to herald in the night
as his tears ran to the sea I found my own short sight
and listened as he made an oath to bring his wrongs to right

I walked back home on warehouse streets my own tears blurred my sight
it's when a man feels most alone it seems the whole world sighs
and like a friend wraps round him tight to truely empathize
Then laughter rose up from behind a gun flashed painful bright

The wicked have sweet faces and brightly burning eyes
some grow along a lonely path and turn to better lives
but others come from holy homes and still don't realize
when life comes down to midnight fire, both won't really die. (*2)