One of my many sons once asked me how I wrote songs and I have thought long and hard into the night about this. And now as I rock back and forth in my creaky old chair, it occurs to me that inspiration comes from another worldly source.
The process for me is quite simple and usually follows the same pattern. What I do is pick up one of my guitars, either the one that’s made from old coffin wood or the one my dad and I carved from the giant oak tree in the yard, you know, the one that was struck by lightning?
Then I write down notes, my hands running furiously across the paper, working long into the night until I collapse through exhaustion.
And when the sun’s rays wake me in the morning the most magical thing has happened. The song has completed itself! Could it be those pesky goblins, you know, the ones that come in the night and repair my red dancing shoes? Locals say my house is built on the old village burial ground, would that be influencing my creative process?
I’m just not sure. What I will say is that I’ve written a new, fab song, called, ‘So, Here I Am.’ This could be more fabber than, ‘This is What the Fuss is All About!’ I’ve also written another song, about marital strife, it’s called,’ The Shop is Closed, I Can’t Come In.’ It’s funny and it should be ready soon.
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