Category Archives: acoustic

Forget About the Moon, Forget About the Stars

When he woke up on Easter morning she was lying next to him, on her side, her angled arm propping her head as she must have been watching him sleep.

She leaned over and kissed him, over and over, across his face until he pushed her away. She laughed, jumped up and ran out into the living room in her t-shirt and panties.

When she came back she was cradling something in her hands… a wicker basket with green cellulose strips coming out over the edges and a small collection of Easter eggs, chocolates, and a few whimsical toys — including a small, palm-sized rubber duck wearing a sailor hat. It wheezed asthmatically when he squeezed it.

It was too much.

She’d been laying this tender trap for a while now, he knew, and he’d been watching it with a certain detachment.

But now he could feel himself falling, helplessly.

And it was OK. It was good. He allowed himself to be enveloped by her warmth.

She kneeled by him on the bed, her skinny arms sticking out of her t-shirt, her hands on her bare knees, watching him. He looked in her eyes for a long time and then pulled her down toward him, holding her for a long, long time before he let his hungry mouth find hers.

That was Sunday. On Friday afternoon she called from work. They hadn’t been planning on getting together that night, but she asked if she could see him. She knew he was going to see a band he’d been working with later that night, but she said she needed to see him for a little while, anyway.

As she walked in, he knew something was wrong.

Her eyes only met his for brief moments and she walked around the room anxiously before she finally sat down. He sat across from her, at an angle, a few feet away.

She was silent for a very long time. He could see she was crying.

Finally she blurted, “I’m so confused…”

And all he could think, deep down, as the darkness started spreading through him, all he could think was… You’re so confused? You’re confused?

Over her shoulder, sitting on the corner of his desk, he could see the little rubber duck, its sailor cap jauntily to one side — as it always would be…

Forget About the Moon

official version – produced by Reggie Ashley
<a href="http://tkmajor.bandcamp.com/album/gone-is-gone">Gone Is Gone by TK Major</a>

other versions

[songwriter demo w/ backing instruments]

original acoustic version (AYoS 2006-02-08)

FORGET ABOUT THE MOON

forget about me
forget about you
forget all those pretty things
we were gonna do

forget about the moon
forget about the stars
forget about forever
we’ve already come too far

forget about the times
you lay by my side
forget how I thought you’d be
there all my life

forget about the moon…

forget about those dreams
they’re just castles in the sky
forget all those plans we made
lying awake at night

Forget about the damn duck...

It’s Only Been a Million Years [v.2]

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It's Only Been a Million Years

I’m writing today’s post backwards.

So, you’ll have to wait a little while until I can ammend this post with some… uh… content.

Ah… I’m back.

There will be some reading this who will question my understanding of the basic precepts and conventions of the blog form. To them I say:

Conventions are for Shriners.

Actually, it was just that I hit the SUBMIT button by mistake — and the robots who act as majordomos to the blogosphere’s infrastructure get downright hissy when you ping them and then there’s no blog there when they trundle over to see what you got.

So I ended up for a few minutes with nothing much but a picture and some links to today’s song (as well as a link to the arguably superior earlier version).

Now… you may say… how is that really different from — hey, don’t hit that backbutton yet… oops. Too late. Everyone else, maybe I just ought to direct you to today’s song (with a quick sidenote to my fellow podcasters and musicians).

PRODUCTION NOTE: Once again, I used my new 80 dollar Samson C01U USB microphone to record the day’s track. (This time Iused the software EQ, reverb, and compression tools I normally use. Or misuse, as the case may be.) I mention this only because I waited for months for someone to buy and report on the quality and effectiveness of this mic, in vain. You can take a look at yesterday’s post which is more or less devoted to the subject.

previous AYoS version

It’s Only Been a Million Years

One day you’ll wake up
and figure out I’ve gone
Only thing surprising
took so damn long

It’s only been a million years
since I had a dream
It’s only been forever
since I felt a thing

One day I love you
next day I don’t
Hard to believe
You didn’t know

It only takes an instant
for the hottest flame to die
it only takes forever
to spend your life wondering why

It’s only been a million years
since I had a dream
It’s only been forever
since I felt a thing

Forget About the Moon

Without a Thought of You [v.2]

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Without a Thought of You

previous AYoS version

To think that I once felt sorry for you.

That’s what he was thinking as he watched her from across the room. She was standing close to a tall guy in his thirties with greasy hair and round silver studs embedded in his temples that gave him the look of a late fifties American car.

Her pretty dark eyes danced across the tall guy’s face — but he knew from watching her at scores, maybe hundreds of openings and parties, that she was making a kind of dynamic topological map of the room, charting not people’s height but their stature in the art community.

And he knew that the flattering attention in which she bathed Mr ’59 Chrysler Imperial would be duplicated maybe four or five times that night with different men or women.

She would undress as he lay naked on the bed, and give him, unbidden, undesired, a detailed debriefing of the critical art scene intel she had gleaned, dishing caustic, funny slaggings of the very people she had seemed to fawn over earlier in the evening.

And, when, finally, she got on the bed, on her hands and knees above him, naked, and her pretty dark eyes danced across his face in the flickering candlelight, he tried to make his mind a blank.

About this version: I think I have to say that I prefer the previous version of this, from December 26th last. I especially like the artwork, which is an (unintentional) self-portrait. (The signature was added as a joke and to tie it to the song.)