by Marc Gunn, March 13, 2009

There are no songs still left to sing
There's no music still left to score
All the melodies have left the moon beams
Ever since you left my door

I heard that little quip that you made
Caused me a little bit of pain and woe
While fireworks sparked on the Fourth of July
Your silhouette dimmed street lamp glow

Now music won't grace my window
I can't remember a single song that I sung
All I know is I long for moon beams
And the melodies when I was young.

KEY C

first chorus/solo
d d C C
d d C C
B B F F
C C d d

verse:
C C d d
C C B B
F F g g
C C F F

chorus:
C C d d
C C d d
B B F F
C C d d

Background:

I was listening to an author speak about the muse and how at times it flies at you. As an artist, your job is to capture that muse and hold onto it as long as you possibly can.

The problem for me is that when I do capture the muse and create song that I love, I can't relax. I find myself overwhelmed by the song that repeats over and over in my head as I try to shape it into a simple form. Or the song might even be complete ready to go, that's even more torture because I want to record it and get it out of my hands. It just doesn't work that way though. Such was the case with this song.

The night before I wrote this song, the Muse came visiting. It was late, as it often is. I wanted to get a good night's sleep for my show the next day so I tried going to be early. She wouldn't leave me be. I tossed in bed, got up, went back to bed. Eventually, I got her out of my mind and slept.

The next morning, I felt her still whispering in my ear. But I wanted more sleep. I got up, used the restroom, and climbed back into bed. She kept prodding. “Get up,” she said. “I know how to wake you…”

Then the lyrics came “There are no songs still left to sing.” That wasn't enough for me to wake up for. Then another line “There's no music still left to score.” Okay. That was kinda compelling, but still not enough to get out of bed. Having recently watched “Beyond the Sea” about the life of Bobby Darin, the last two lines came to me. I got up and transcribed the Muse's words. Then we sat down and wrote the rest of the song.

And the music? It had a crooner swing feel. I played and sang. The music and chord progression just flowed from me. I recorded a rough version so I wouldn't forget. Then the torture began.

The rest of the day, the song haunted me. The following day, I went to a horse race track. My mind was not in the races. It was singing the song over and over throughout the day. Is the Muse wanting more? Mayhaps. For now, I must sing. And try and think up a name for the new song. I recorded it for my CD The Bridge.