Anyone remember the last days of June when by the magic of the internet we were able to meet and hatch a plan for a forum "competition" with the theme of Swings/Swinging/Swingers?!
Well...
@PaulyX and I were paired up and duly started brewing something up. He had to put up with various weeks of silence, bad takes, and general indecisiveness from my side, but we have finally done it! (And I think we may be the first...)
This one is intended to be a bit emotional but also uplifting and encouraging. Fairly typically for me, it has three not-so-interconnected stories, but with great lyrical concepts, instrumentation, and mixing from Paul, has turned into something a bit different from either of our normal styles. Thanks to him for all the patience, skill, diplomacy, and enthusiasm!
All comments welcome! (And where are those other Swinging Songs, eh?!)
Swingers
V1
Shy boy, you glide when you dance
But only when the other boys can't see
Your dad - is gonna burn your books and art
He says that's not how a man should be
PreCh1
Now you go to the park
Alone after dark
To sit on a swing
And dream of entertaining
CHORUS
They try to make your differences a fence to keep you in
They try to make you stand aside before you can begin
They think their words are handcuffs, but you’ll break them like a string
Cos The harder they push you, the higher you swing
The higher you swing
V2
Brown girl, everybody’s favourite sport
Is making vulgar versions of your name
Your lunch - is not the same as theirs
But they’re gonna steal it anyway
PreCh2
Now you go to the park
Alone after dark
To sit on the swings
And dream of growing wings
V3
Sad teen, sometimes you want to die
And booze and pills never restore your pride
Let down - when you want to be made up
Your Identity gets called a crime
PreCh3
Now you go to the park
Alone after dark
To sit on a swing
And try to ease the sting
Final Chant
They don't like to see your light, and try to make you stand aside
Tryna get under your skin, stop you before you begin
Hiding behind the rough smut, they think their words are handcuffs
But they're just midges in the wind, and you can break them like a string
Final Choruses