A Song Without Music

Me: "You know how much I love spending time in the kitchen." Boyfriend: "With a phone and a take out menu."

Now that I've kicked off this post with the requisite witty humour, I can turn to other insignificant things, such as my playwriting. The idea recently flashed in my brain of sharing some of that writing here on my blog, kind of like a story in serial installments. I mean, why not?

A few months back, I began very preliminary work on a musical; the writing part, that is. I'm not sure where that project is headed but I wrote my first ever song lyrics. It's not exactly an uplifting ballad as I was exorcising some demons at the time but I think it could be a catchy tune. I call it: " A Song Without Music". 

Good morning, good morning 
You're my wife, short of a ring
You're my mother, only better
You're my daughter, don't run for cover

Good morning, good morning
Under my thumb, blessed underling
It's the only way I know, the only love I can show
Look pretty, don't think. Hint at desire, leave me on the brink

Good morning, good morning
Your submission is a sacred thing
It's your calling, weaker sex
You've got no strength, no muscle to flex

Good morning, good morning
I'm the master and you the slave adoring
My psychic steel rod violating your space
Hunting you down, because I need the chase

Good morning, good morning
Come to me and say good morning
Good morning, good morning
Bend the knee and say good morning 

Stay tuned for my next creative writing installment. I think I'll go with a comedy next time.