The second song of my first FAWM is important to me. It was also my first FAWMing collab, since Steffan Pitzel dug it so, he made a really great song of it.
The tune, a sort of jazzy snazzy thing, I wrote another song to, since Steffan's slow, bluesy melody had stuck in my mind. I cannot find the full lyric anywhere, so it may get posted later in the month.
The other song posted is older yet, from the summer of 1996. I'll explain when you get there.
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A friend once told me that the last verse wasn't as strong as the others. I agreed, at first, and then after listening to some of my favorite songs by other artists, and this again, I realized that wasn't so: bringing it back to a personal level, makes it stronger, makes it not-preachy. And anyone that has fought for inclusion in a rigid, backward system knows just what it means. This may be the only song ever to get a compliment of: "You had me at 'bullet-proof bible'." In fact, it better be. I wrote that line!
Stronger Than Dogma
drinking my night down
in a local bar, heard a good friend saying,
"They've gone too far. Get yourself a rifle,
and a bulletproof bible.
It could be any day now, that They start the last war."
but i say, you've got to be
stronger than dogma
for the fear to fly--
deeper than the redness
in a kamikaze's eye
to keep afloat, you've got to note the light pollution in the sky,
and move on...
i don't hand out sunshine
but i was told
nastiness echoes in a
hollowed-out soul
if you'd stand for freedom,
please don't stand on my head;
if your faith could move mountains,
let it move your heart instead
you've got to be
stronger than dogma
for your fears to fly
you've got to be
deeper than the redness
in a kamikaze's eye
to keep afloat, you've got to note the evolution of the sky
and move on...
working through the classics
in my college groove
i squeezed on the Canon
but it wouldn't move
i heard, the Forms and Names are sacred
they'll never be dispersed
they may not be the only choice
but they stick because they're first...
you've got to be
stronger than dogma
for your fears to die
you've got to be
deeper than the redness in a drunken poet's eye
to keep afloat, you've got to tote up imperfections with a sigh, and move
on...
© 2009 by Mari Kozlowski
-------------------------------------------------
My oldest sister, Lynne, died of untreated cancer in April, 1996. I was living in Indianapolis at the time, and so did not have the support system of my family (or my band) here in Buffalo to help me get through. Grief was a slow-growth thing for me, then; it was easier at first, and got worse over the next few years. I had no idea that would happen; I was dealing with the death of a long love, also, living in the corpse of the relationship, in a strange new state.
When I wrote this, I thought I had a good understanding of death, but I had no understanding of how it would soon overwhelm me. But I had some friendship, some will to heal, some hope. I was staying at a friend's wonderful, relaxing home in Buffalo in late June, early July; and it had stormed the night before. As I sat on my friend's white porch, looking out at the fresh, relieved morning, all my feelings came together and I quickly sang and wrote these words, refining them, paring away any excess.
An hour or two later, I sang them to bandmate Joe Todaro (we were called Diamond Tribe, then) on my way to our violinist's apt. for a rehearsal. Joe had set up over half a dozen gigs for the two week+ period of my visit, and we were rehearsing and/or performing just about everyday. In the car, he thought up the chords for the song. When we arrived at Mary Marciniak's place, he played it for us, and I loved it. It was perfect. Mary felt that strings might overpower the delicate tune, so she tried to come up with a flute part instead-- she could play about 10 instruments. I heard where the part should be, showed her, and she immediately played and expanded on it. We added a partial harmony, and performed it that night at our gig.
My fondness for this song was such that I put it into a movie soundtrack, on a tape, and in two compilations. We still perform it, doing it with a little country shine here, pure and folk-choral there.
Still one of my very favorite works.
The Blossom Song
Oh, come to me
When the summer is a storm
And the honey is ready
And the opening's warm
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
Till the song calls us home
Will you come to me?
When the summer is a storm
And the honey is ready
And the opening's warm
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
Till the song calls us home
We'll feed the blossoming
And blow our voices to the air
They'll catch our sweetness, then
They'll send it on and on, and on
And we'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
Till the song calls us home
Till the song calls us home
Till the song calls us home
© 1996, 1997, 2000, 2001 by Mari Kozlowski & Joe Todaro
The tune, a sort of jazzy snazzy thing, I wrote another song to, since Steffan's slow, bluesy melody had stuck in my mind. I cannot find the full lyric anywhere, so it may get posted later in the month.
The other song posted is older yet, from the summer of 1996. I'll explain when you get there.
---------------------------------------
A friend once told me that the last verse wasn't as strong as the others. I agreed, at first, and then after listening to some of my favorite songs by other artists, and this again, I realized that wasn't so: bringing it back to a personal level, makes it stronger, makes it not-preachy. And anyone that has fought for inclusion in a rigid, backward system knows just what it means. This may be the only song ever to get a compliment of: "You had me at 'bullet-proof bible'." In fact, it better be. I wrote that line!
Stronger Than Dogma
drinking my night down
in a local bar, heard a good friend saying,
"They've gone too far. Get yourself a rifle,
and a bulletproof bible.
It could be any day now, that They start the last war."
but i say, you've got to be
stronger than dogma
for the fear to fly--
deeper than the redness
in a kamikaze's eye
to keep afloat, you've got to note the light pollution in the sky,
and move on...
i don't hand out sunshine
but i was told
nastiness echoes in a
hollowed-out soul
if you'd stand for freedom,
please don't stand on my head;
if your faith could move mountains,
let it move your heart instead
you've got to be
stronger than dogma
for your fears to fly
you've got to be
deeper than the redness
in a kamikaze's eye
to keep afloat, you've got to note the evolution of the sky
and move on...
working through the classics
in my college groove
i squeezed on the Canon
but it wouldn't move
i heard, the Forms and Names are sacred
they'll never be dispersed
they may not be the only choice
but they stick because they're first...
you've got to be
stronger than dogma
for your fears to die
you've got to be
deeper than the redness in a drunken poet's eye
to keep afloat, you've got to tote up imperfections with a sigh, and move
on...
© 2009 by Mari Kozlowski
-------------------------------------------------
My oldest sister, Lynne, died of untreated cancer in April, 1996. I was living in Indianapolis at the time, and so did not have the support system of my family (or my band) here in Buffalo to help me get through. Grief was a slow-growth thing for me, then; it was easier at first, and got worse over the next few years. I had no idea that would happen; I was dealing with the death of a long love, also, living in the corpse of the relationship, in a strange new state.
When I wrote this, I thought I had a good understanding of death, but I had no understanding of how it would soon overwhelm me. But I had some friendship, some will to heal, some hope. I was staying at a friend's wonderful, relaxing home in Buffalo in late June, early July; and it had stormed the night before. As I sat on my friend's white porch, looking out at the fresh, relieved morning, all my feelings came together and I quickly sang and wrote these words, refining them, paring away any excess.
An hour or two later, I sang them to bandmate Joe Todaro (we were called Diamond Tribe, then) on my way to our violinist's apt. for a rehearsal. Joe had set up over half a dozen gigs for the two week+ period of my visit, and we were rehearsing and/or performing just about everyday. In the car, he thought up the chords for the song. When we arrived at Mary Marciniak's place, he played it for us, and I loved it. It was perfect. Mary felt that strings might overpower the delicate tune, so she tried to come up with a flute part instead-- she could play about 10 instruments. I heard where the part should be, showed her, and she immediately played and expanded on it. We added a partial harmony, and performed it that night at our gig.
My fondness for this song was such that I put it into a movie soundtrack, on a tape, and in two compilations. We still perform it, doing it with a little country shine here, pure and folk-choral there.
Still one of my very favorite works.
The Blossom Song
Oh, come to me
When the summer is a storm
And the honey is ready
And the opening's warm
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
Till the song calls us home
Will you come to me?
When the summer is a storm
And the honey is ready
And the opening's warm
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
Till the song calls us home
We'll feed the blossoming
And blow our voices to the air
They'll catch our sweetness, then
They'll send it on and on, and on
And we'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
We'll lay in the green
Till the song calls us home
Till the song calls us home
Till the song calls us home
© 1996, 1997, 2000, 2001 by Mari Kozlowski & Joe Todaro
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