“There once was an unlucky man, who sought the Fae. And found them.”
-the opening of my now-lost Faerie cycle
Come away with the Faeries,
Come away, come away!
You’re sure the song they sing
Is for you and you alone
Come away with the Faeries, come away, come away
(With jagged Faerie-dust your path is sewn.)
No razor’s ever been as sharp
As a single Faerie’s wing
No trap has ever held as tight
As the lowest Faerie ring;
No song has ever hurt as much
As the song that they sing
And you hope that they will sing it
Again.
Come away with the Faeries,
Come away, come away
You’re sure the song they sing
Could make a heart from a stone.
Come away with the Faeries,
Come away, come away,
To somewhere that few are ever shown.
The stars of Faerie shine more bright
Than any mortal glow
Their frost can burn you colder
Than any mortal snow
They’ll leave you wanting something
You know you’ll never know
And you know you’ll want to want it
Again
Come away with the Faeries,
Come away
Come away!
You’re sure the song they sing
Is played upon your bones;
Come away with the Faeries,
Come away,
Come away:
Into careless unknowns.
You’ll have a scar of moonlight
If a Faerie takes your hand;
If a Faerie’s gaze is turned to you
You’ll freeze up where you stand.
The kiss of a Faerie
Will mark you like a brand
And you know you’ll
never
feel that kiss again.
Come away with the Faeries!
“Come away! Come away!”
You’re sure the song they sing
Is for you and you alone.
Come away with the Faeries!
“Come away! Come away
From everything you’ve ever loved or known.”
My first songwriting teacher told me “A song is just bad poetry”. As a songwriter, I’d agree with him. I do have a few things which started out as songs, and ended up feeling right when knocked into a page. This is one of them.
But:
The words of most songs are meant to be paired with tone, rhythm, melody, and that complex combination of things we call “voice”. Nobody said that it was the job of those words to stand on their own; in fact, quite the opposite; if they happen to work well on a page, that’s lovely, but lyrics are not a solo act.
Don’t watch a dance and complain that it’s inefficient as a method of getting from one place to another; don’t watch a lightning storm and complain that it doesn’t caffeinate; don’t get annoyed when the lyrics of songs are not solo artists, but team players. Sometimes they can do both, but that’s above and beyond.
It’s the role of lyrics to be one part of the larger sonic impact. They have some kind of meeting with (harmonizing, opposing, fighting, roaring over, gliding just under; but not ignoring) the music of which they’re a part. Again, existing as symbols which enter us through our eyes is not the same as being absorbed by our ears. You might like the way a peach feels in your hand, but you don’t absorb it via osmosis. On top of that, song lyrics take part in the not-wholly-understood process which takes place when we push music out of our bodies through the wind in our lungs and the shapes of our vocal chords; interpret it in our minds and (sometimes) hearts, souls, or lower quarters; and give them life through voice.
Paul Simon’s “The Sounds Of Silence” is widely regarded as one of the best pieces of poetry to exist in the form of modern song; but Paul Simon, when asked about the smartest thing ever said in rock and roll, replied, “Be Bop A Lula, she’s my baby.” I don’t want to interpret Rhymin’ Simon’ overmuch, but this little snippet exists only as a trivia question on the Internet. Some people think he was being ironic; but as a miniature Paul Simon fanatic, I remember watching him say it in a documentary on PBS in the 80s (that’s how I knew to look it up, in fact) – and he said it with complete sincerity. He’s quite right; I couldn’t give you the definition of “Be bop a lula, she’s my baby,” but I could listen to that song and feel meaning for days.
My name is Jeff Mach (“Dark Lord” is optional) and I build communities, put on events, and make stories come into being. I also tweet a lot over @darklordjournal.
I write books. You should read them!
I put on a convention for Villains every February.
I created a Figmental Circus. It’s happening this June. You should go!
