Top Four - American Songwriter, March/April 2023 Lyrics Contest
I'm a collector of words and images from the world around me, I use the things I collect in my mind to write songs, I love telling stories. Sometimes I get inspiration from real life events, sometimes its from things I have watched or read and sometimes its my imagination mixing them all together.
This song was written in the shoes of a lonley widower who's main reason for living had left him. I wrote the story as if I was a shadow on the wall, watching what went on in his home on nights he thougth he was alone, all while, whilst creating this story I had the image of Sam Elliott from 1883 burned into the back of my mind.
So this is me walking in his shoes…
(I have since made some refinments to these lyrics - since entering this competion - however below are the lyrics I submitted and was placed for)
Fools Form of Torture
(Writer: Jessie Che - Lyrics) music is not yet written for this piece
Verse
Diggin' through the ash for the least burnt cigarettes
Finding ones ain't quite done yet
He eyes a few with a shadow of a smile
The red is faded, along with time,
But he doesn't mind
Verse
This treasure trove he mines, in a whisky glow
Should have been gone, so long ago
But it's the only way to touch her again
So with half a dozen in his hand,
He kisses her again
Chorus
(Its a) Fools form of torture, this torch he carries for her
In the silence of a lonely night,
He brings her back in a strike,
N' he burns his fingers, but he doesn't care
He'll hold onto anything to prove she was once was there
Fools form of torture
Verse
The candlelight glows off the silver in their home
Like the cross on her chest's last breath
Is ending this the only way to free his mind?
Wishing he could see straight
He stumbles to the safe
Chorus
(Its a) Fools form of torture, this torch he carries for her
In the silence of a lonely night,
He brings her back in a strike,
N' he burns his fingers, but he doesn't care
He'll hold onto anything to prove she was once was there
Fools form of torture
Bridge
He wakes in the sun, to what he didn't want to see
Its time at last to find, a new reason to breathe…
Chorus (2)
(Its a) Fools form of torture, the torch he carried for her
Although there are quiet nights,
Art glows of her living light,
N' he works his fingers, creating things with care
Something to hold on, to prove… she was once was there….
Something to hold on, to prove… she was once was there….
