Personally I never ever sit down with the intention of writing a song. I pick my guitar just because I love playing. Usually I will be trying to learn a new technique or be messing around with some effects or something and while doing that I'll accidentally play a wee lick or piece of music that I like. I'll then take that forward and just do what I feel comes naturally and then a lyric will pop into my head. hen that happens I usually get a song down in less than an hour. If it takes any longer than that or I'm having to try too hard I usually bin the idea. I don't like forcing a song, because I find that when I have to look for a lyric it normally ends up a cheesy cliche, so I don't bother. Because of the way I write, I never write in any particular genre. I just do it when it happens, and do what feels right at that particular time. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't
So i guess my basic method is I never try to write, I just play, and sometimes things happen. Sometimes they don't
But I'm never left disappointed because all I set out to do was play my guitar.
When I was in college though, we used to be given assignments where we would be given a magazine article headline or a film title, and we'd be asked to write a song based on the article. For that I would basically close my eyes and develop the pictures that came into my head which the headline brought. 1 in particular I remember was 'The Stones That Echo', which was in a Scottish Tourist magazine.
Here is the lyrics for the song I wrote
This bloody foreland, I call my home
No diamond mountains, or fields of gold
It has no treasures, of any worth
But it's my country, land of my birth
All the old stories, you lived right through
The pain and hunger, and bloodshed too
Your children leaving, for foreign shores
Lost in a moment, for ever more
And the stones that echo sing your song to me
Tell a tale of many years held in captivity
And of your longing to be free
Through every landlord, you have survived
Years held in bondage, your freedom denied
Borders and boundaries, houses and fields
Never to falter, never to yield
And the stones that echo sing your song to me
Tell a tale of many years held in captivity
And of your longing to be free