(It's been a while since I posted on here! It's good to be back)

Edie Sedgwick was a socialite who lived in New York City in the 1960's. She has for the most part faded into obscurity, but was very prolific in her lifetime and was known for her striking appearence, eloquent, intense monologues and most famously for her involvement with Andy Warhol and his Factory. Unfortunately her story is a tragic one, and after a lifetime of battles with mental and physical health she died very young. This is my tribute to her.

(Verse)
Were you raised on memories of things that you could never be?
And could you be picked out of a crowd?
Were you told there was no place for a troubled soul with an angel's face
And that you'd fade away without a sound?
(pre-chorus)
But they knew you so well at the Chelsea Hotel
Where you sent them to heaven and gave them all hell
I set out on a pilgrimage, painted in your image

This scene's alright, I don't think it was here before
Makes you forget what you came in here for
It appeals to the nocturnal breed as they lead
They're looking to feed
All watch your backs tonight
You call this enternainment? I say it's a distraction
You say it's the future, I call it counteraction
Your new's just my old being resold
We can't hear what we're told
Hit the ground running
You think you'll manufacture the coming of the new age?
Try throwing a shaky-kneed kid on that stage
And watch as the revolution is rebirthed
You can't control us, we're not of this Earth
 

     Bear with me on this one, because I'm on a roll and this is happening whether someone's paying attention or not.
     This Sunday, my preferred morning radio show (Breakfast with the Beatles for anyone who's interested) included an interview with a veteran rock and roll journalist named Jeff Slate. It was an interesting enough conversation, as they moved between Beatle stories of the past and what we can expect from the surviving members in the future. However, near the end of the interview the host asked Slate what role he believed the Beatles and music in general played in the world today. His answer surprised me- and not neccesarily in a good way. 

Rules of verse, prose and rhyme
careful measures, line for line.
What will withstand the trial of time
and fires of our sorrow?

Cloth will rip and buildings fall,
yesteryears machines are no use to us all.
But a phrase scribbled hastily on the wall
will still be there tomorrow.

The stories and songs of all that was achieved
of things we discovered — and that we had to leave.
There's no telling what we will be asked to believe,
the future requires a past.

And what will remain when we're finally gone?
Take note of the times you've been right and wrong,
write down your stories, your thoughts and your songs,
for only words will last.
 

Found a cool setting on my keyboard and had a mini-jam session. Enjoy...

Hope you enjoy!
(Also keep in mind that this one is a little difficult for me to play on guitar and I didn't practice it much before recording)

Lyrics:

(1st verse)
I left the green light on last night
Then stayed awake and wrote your name
I left it well within your sight
So you might come like moth to flame
Come to burn
If I should speak
What would you learn?

(Chorus)
Thoughts they rise and fall and fade away
Someday I'll be gone and you might wonder why you stayed

(2nd verse)
All that lies between our minds
Are years of which you're unaware
In the dark you cannot find them
So I sigh and keep you there
You cannot know
For if you knew
You might let go

(Chorus)
Thoughts they rise and fall and fade away
Someday I'll be gone and you might wonder why you stayed

(3rd verse)
My time is waiting in the wings