Bulky Mittens
Whilst sitting in an airport I began the lyrics for the concept album outlined by Norm earlier in the blog. It is no masterpiece but it is a starting point. I see this as an exploration of the bubble boy's pain and his motivations for seeking a tattoo. I will re-write the lyrics for Dead End Town so that they reflect his frustration with the small minded predjudice of his peers.V1: My tender fingers burn and sting no matter what the gauge of string My bloody fingers trip and stick I've tried prosthetic finger tips Bridge: Strings will chew my scaly claw I've got bulky mittens on my paws Chorus: I can only trudge, I can only shuffle In smaller circles inside my bubble I can only chafe, I can only bleed And these bulky mittens can't set me free V2: My breath it stinks, my skin has curled my blood's allergic to the world I've heard of Rollins, I've got The Who The skin graft man won't get rid of you Bridge: A tattoo's ink will do for me But nothing else will set me free Chorus: I can only trudge, I can only shuffle In smaller circles inside my bubble I can only chafe, I can only bleed And these bulky mittens can't set me free
posted by Unrelenting Tedium at 9:16 pm
3 Comments:
heart-rending, my man. How do you do it?
Exactly.
A tattoo's ink will do for me
But nothing else will set me free
sums it up nicely. The poor lad seeks to break away from the small circles in which he trudges, bleeding and chafing. He is fixating on the tattoo and the freedom it will bring as he dreams of joining his rock idols.
No cage can trap you so completely as a pair of Bulky Mittens.
I can imagine some sort of catchy, anthemic Offspring-style chorus with lots of "whoa whoooaa" kinds of things.
Thanks Dan. Clearly I have a gift. I would be negligent if I didn't share.
Post a Comment
<< Home