All good things start in boring classes! Lyrical coda is a byproduct of yawns, vague memories and a combination of words from, if I may say so, RANDOM songs. See, this is how it goes…
1. Pick a lyric out of the top of your head
2. Write it down on a blank piece of paper.
3. Challenge a friend, who is invariably sitting next to you in this boring, boring class to continue the strain of thought with another lyric of a song.
And this amalgamation of bits and pieces of songs you love will eventually become a contortion of music which may or may not make sense!
Our first attempt at this style of music composition (ahem!) led to a kind of angst-y, let-go love letter written to this imaginary character called Cecelia. Read and enjoy!
PS: Lyrical Coda saw the beginning of SPAS! Cheers to Quickies!
Send a heartbeat to Cecilia!
You’re breaking my head, it rolls in a park, on a boulevard of broken dreams. Sometime you can’t make it on your own, but life goes on and lights will guide you on the loneliest day of your life.
I am your hate when you want love. Hate is a strong word but I hate everything about you. Why does your friend make you run? Now, you are gone forever. It ends tonight, if you gave it all away, but it’s not too late to make a memory.
I miss you baby and I don’t want the world to see me cos everyone’s pointing their fingers, always infecting young minds faster than bacteria.
I wonder if you could be happy if you try, try so hard, someday, somewhere, somebody to love…love is all around and what comes around goes around! So don’t worry, everything will be alright. I dare you to move along, move along even when your hope dangles on a string.
You belong to me and I love to see you cry over and over again. I’m broken, again with or without you.
Those three words are not a miracle drug, so here I am, with arms wide open. I’m sorry I’m bad, I’m sorry I’m rude. But it’s too late to apologise for everything I just couldn’t do. I wish I was like a bird cos it’s time to go, have no fear.
Welcome to wherever you are cos you’re stuck in a moment. It’s just one of those days when tears cry on their own.
So this is the last song I sing for the moment…Sing. Sing, Sing. I’m not going to write you a love song. There are many things I would like to say to you, but I am unwritten. Strange, Strange, Strange.