Be minor riff

that B minor riff
that apocryphal riff.
but hey aint they all
in this rock game, anyway

you will be hearing it soon. you will be alive to it soon.
all you need is the words and the images.
all you need is love
all you need is just a bit more space & time

(why not just write it here, you ask? because this ain't the space for it.
falls outside the purview of this blog's methodology, if a
blog can be said
to have a purview. or a methodology

this is where I write
when I am fillin up the Internet
with other things
technicalerratachattautilimatamadhatta)

[and the Internet said....what the Internet said...]

Ride, ride, ride goes the chorus.
Or rise, rise, rise
Or hide hide hide

He said, I'm gonna let it ride, ride, ride

She said, I can feel it rise, rise, rise

She knew she gotta go hide, hide, hide

It was a shame and a crime, crime, crime

the song is the song of a boy name of Roddy. 2 boys actually
the father and the son
and their mother, Vicky Scow

it all started in the 2nd grade
out in the field where the kids would play
and down the ledge to the railroad tracks
where the days all take what they don't give back

my new methodology for songwriting is to just envision the scenes and the story while practicing the riffs and progressions
then mumble/moan some lyrics
then type them out
then repeat

Really ought to take some time
Hypomania.
Hew that rhyme

Attention deficit disorder. ADD.
it just means you think too fast

the invocation
and the pseudonym self-absorbed

create them days