Every Tunesday I post a boldly imperfect, one-take song draft of a song. This was written from this past Saturday’s prompt, “Through the Woods” (You can receive a new prompt every Friday in time for Happy Hour by signing up here).
I’ve been a jack
I’ve yelled timber out for the things I loved before
I’ve being a shill
rubbing nickels to bring a genie’d grant me more
I’ve been dirt in a sad song that sings goodbye
I’ve been last call with a jukebox and no dime
These Treetop are always swaying
While I’ve lived and wondered who I want to be
I ain’t through the woods I think that’s what i’m saying
The end of this is surely certainty
I’ve been two roads
Both crooked love and the straight line of regret
I’ve been fresh snow
And the first step in a patch of wet cement
I’ve been the last dance with tequila and a lime
I’ve been shaky words upon page unsigned
I’ve been three beds
I’ve been lumpy like cold porridge and just right
I’ve been beat red
Yelling at these teeth that stalk me in the night
I’ve been moaning ghosts and high spirits that howl round
Flown like buttered toast that lands face down on the ground
timmyr.com 