As soon as I got back to the farm in Indiana after 5 weeks and 8,000 miles on the road, I knew I had some serious work to do, to make sense of everything I'd just experienced.
I set up all of my music gear as close to the wood stove as possible and after two long nights of exorcisms, meditation and integration, I've emerged with this song, "Used to be an Ocean."
The central guitar riff may sound familiar -- the song is built around that "Honey" sketch that I recorded while in Eugene, OR last month, and used in episode #50 of the podcast.
The lyrics were "written" (more like summoned) while hiking through the mystical red rocks of Sedona, AZ a couple weeks ago.
The song itself is kind of a big sloppy mess, my attempt to evoke the desert and the Pacific ocean simultaneously. I hope that comes through.
This might be the last song that I write for my forthcoming album, 'Bliss.' But I might have another one that needs to work its way out before the project is complete. We'll see. There are always more stories to tell.
Here are the lyrics:
this is as good a place as any I have stumbled on.
morning birds join me in my worship songs.
mountains in the moonlight, you'd never know they're capped with snow.
see them fall into the stream below.
we used to be an ocean but we know that is no more,
sleeping on the sacred canyon floor.
there is an energy vortex swirling inside my mind.
if I stare too long I hope you'll be kind.
mind if I ask you how you choose to fortify your bones?
who told you there was no life in stone?
this is the place where I once thought I had it figured out.
but we know how that old story goes.