FAWM: February Album Writing Month 2004

Song #11 Count
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I was reminiscing on my old band and how much has changed since the band dissolved, in preparation for writing an "ending" song. It struck me that I was getting old and that we like to think we have control over our future, but in reality all we can really do is react as events happen.

So call it maudlin, morose, introspective, or whatever, this is me feeling my age, and I'm still young.

(I was trying to add a solo part, but my PC freaked on me. In the process I almost lost the whole thing. I had to realign the different parts in the editor and I decided to mix it and post it before I wrecked something else. So I know it is missing a lead line, but it'll have to wait till March. *shrug*)

Count

28 sands in a glass
with a pile left to go
I wish they all lay so neat
Were even just like so

But they just fall
To the winds of change
No control
That I can arrange
So count them as they lie

Count them as they fall
Count them as they fall
Count them as they fall
How long till we
Count them all

This one didn’t weigh too much
This one was a pain
This one was up a bit
But it won’t come again