Thursday, December 4, 2014

Morning Train (Original Song)

I've written a handful of songs in my life. It doesn't come easily for me. In fact, most of the time it's excruciating and slow and stupid. "Stupid" like every lyric sounds stupid and awkward until I play it for a friend and their like, "It's good."

Whatever.

This one's pretty good, I think. My friend, Emily requested "The Gun Song" and she's talking about this one, which I've chosen to title a little less like an NRA-theme song. I wrote it a few years ago reflecting on a train ride I took in Australia. I took the trip to Australia on a short holiday from the year I spent in Cambodia. It was not a good time for me: dark, probably the worst season of my bulimia.

That morning, I had had breakfast with this kind Aussie couple that was letting me stay with them, they drove me to the train station, so I could spend the day exploring Sydney. Before getting on the train, I went and threw up my breakfast. I boarded the train and sat thinking to myself, "I am not in a good place. I wish someone would notice." But around me were all kinds of people that were likely fighting their own battles. People who might also be wishing someone--even a stranger--would ask, "How ya doin?"

So I started the train ride feeling really bad for myself "sitting on the morning train, the morning train no one can see her, looking past the darkness in her eyes," and then, started thinking about pain and how we all have it and how we all want relief from it: "living in a world that needs to heal."

Here it is:




Morning Train

Sitting on the morning train, the morning train
no one can see her
looking past the darkness in her eyes

Two seats down a business man, he reads and scans
and moves his hands
searching for a way to make a buck

Stepping on with snow-white hair
a wrinkled face that longs to share
the stories that have brought her there

Furrowed brow with headphones on
he stares ahead, he won't respond
hiding in a shell that's made of steel

Living in a world that needs to heal

If it's not my problem, then it's nobodies problem
we've all got our problems of our own
and the world is just too big
and the need is just too great
and really all we want is to go home

Looking in her baby's eyes
she walks and cries as she's denied
the water to survive another day

Working for a meager pay
he sweats and bleeds and falls on his knees
living in a life no one deserves

Breathing fear and disbelief 
running far to seek relief
witnessing too much at eight years-old

Living in a world that needs a home

If it's not my problem, then it's nobodies problem
we've all got our problems of our own
and the world is just too big
and the need is just too great
and really all we want is to go home

He holds a pistol to his head
hoping that he'll soon be dead
wanting to escape this hell on earth
losing hope in all that's left
a hurting world of pain and death
wondering if there's any God at all
cause if there was he'd catch us when we fall

If it's not my problem, then it's nobodies problem
we've all got our problems of our own
and the world is just too big
and the need is just too great
and really all we want is to go home
but none of us will get there 
on our own







4 comments:

Emily said...

I listened to it three times in a row. Thanks for indulging me. :) "Morning Train" is probably a much better name. However, in my heart it will be "Morning Train (The Gun Song)".

It's good. You're good. Keep sharing. Miss you, Heather.

emily said...

Powerful! Don't ever stop writing.

emily said...

Powerful! Don't ever stop writing.

Kylie said...

Sometimes it's hard to step over the "too big" and "too great" but when I finally do and land on the side where we're all in this together, life feels so much lighter.

I love this.