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Where does your inspiration come from?


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Over the last few years I have noticed that I can't write lyrics for {censored} anymore. I used to be able to write them really well but now, not so much. If the last 10 years I have written maybe three sets of lyrics I was... satisfied with. Not even HAPPY just satisfied.


I was thinking about it today and realized that I can't seem to find any inspiration for lyrics anymore. Keep in mind some of this stuff was written when I was about 19:



You can't be cured the doctors say

We hope you have a nice day

You've got no one to blame but yourself.

At first you laughed at the subject

And never thought to protect

Hows it feel, now you're marked for death?



I wish that you could see the way that I see

I'm blind to your skin color it matters not to me

It doesn't make a difference if you're black red or white

If thats what it takes to make you hate you'd best gain some insight

Suffer- the penalty

Without color- a blank scene

How can you be the judge againstr a race... You dont know?


Child abuse

Cant find my way out from this house of hate

I'm feeling cold trapped and alone with no way to escape

The phones too high the front doors locked and help is out of reach

I try to run I try to hide but you always find me.


Run away to escape your attack

Your christian ways are covered in black

Lost to fate

I didn't ask for abuse

Lost in hate

feelings I get from you


Now I'm in my teenage year you say I'm a lost cause

You tell me I'm too violent but to me it was taught

You put me down and throw me out to live apon the streets

You better learn you dick and dyke to practice what you preach




I've never felt so alone

ticking of the grains counting my last time away

Silence surrounds and engulfs my soul

These are the hardest words I'll ever say...



Yeah I got my problems and believe me your no help

I fight an uphill battle against you and myself

It's not easy being me despite all that you think

I'm like a battered battleship thats reay to sink


I'm tired and I'm lonely

And I'm sick of going on

you should consider yourself lucky I dont own a gun

Cause if I did I'd use it to stop all this hate.

What now dear father have you got to say?



A cold sweat from my hands wet's the grip of the blade.

Don't worry I'm just another statistic.

Away my memory fades


Remember the few times that we laughed

and the hours we cried.

Forget this page as my parting words

Forget this day as the one I died.



If I could I'd take back all the broken memories

I'd ever left behind

I'd cross the waters to the open shores and swim to safety.

In stead I've run away from it. All this time.

I cant believe the things I've said

The things I've done

The pain I caused. Before I stormed out the door.

Feels like I've run for so long

I cant remember how to stop.

Or maybe it's fear my past just might catch up.



Sheesh... I think I need to get some meds... :lol:



Anyway... what is the source of your inspirations. A lot of my stuff came from personal experience, but some of it was from a friend who just said:


"Write songs about this" and gave me a bunch of topics....

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Boy... I hear ya... when I was out there in the romantic fray, seems like I always had something to write about. Now that I'm living the life of an aging hermit, sometimes it's a long way down the well of memory to get a full bucket... or even a few drops.


There've been quite a few threads on this topic lately...


Why not check out this one from a few days back:



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