"Haunting City Streets": Stage 1

Text in white is the words of the song.
Text in orange indicates whatever changes I made for this stage.
Text in blue is my personal commentary to either myself or to you.

Personally, I play the flute, the tambourine, the cittern (a necked stringed instrument), and the lysard (a horn instrument), which makes the decision between instruments a bit harder. Since I have very few pieces written for the tambourine, and since it lets me play and sing at the same time, I'll pick that one.

get my tambourine

play my tambourine soft

Tonight, when I step from my haven,
My weapon and shield stay behind.
Tonight, when I walk through my forest,
I ache with need but half-defined.

play my tambourine fast

If my heart were a hill troll attacking,
I would drop it with razor-thorned spell.
If my heart were a stumbling child,
I would leave it to starve where it fell.

play my tambourine soft

Tonight, every foreign mind whispering
Abrades on hopes shattered and rent.
Tonight, I step out of my forest
Like a nightmare the jackal-lord sent.

play my tambourine fast

If my heart were a late-blooming rose,
I would cut it to die on the vine.
If my heart were a last beam of sun
I would shade my brown skin from its shine.

play my tambourine soft

Tonight, I drift lost through the grasslands
Disturbing no plant’s trailing leaf.
Tonight, I walk into your city
In shadow, like bandit or thief.

play my tambourine fast

If my heart were a fluttering bird
I would cage it close, no more to fly.
If my heart were a swift-spinning spider,
I would wait: with the frost, it would die.

play my tambourine soft

Tonight, as I shadow your doorway,
My wishes twine, tangle, and lace.
The rain starts to fall from above
And hides the lost tears on my face.

play my tambourine fast

If my heart were a grovelling servant
I’d dismiss her before end of day.
If my heart were a path in the forest
I’d turn to seek some other way.

play my tambourine soft

Tonight, knowledge stalks towards perception,
And I see that you’re not coming home.
I turn like a spirit retreating
And leave streets for leaf mold and loam.

play my tambourine fast

And my heart is no troll and no rose-vine,
And my heart is no servant or child.
It grants and steals strength as if dicing
And it manifests passioned and wild.

play my tambourine frantic (just because it's not a scripted style doesn't mean I can't do it! This will make more sense later.)

And there’s naught I can do to stop weeping
Or to pick up my shattered control.
Somewhere you dance in your city,
And, knowing, my heart is not whole.

play my tambourine soft

Tonight, I sit under wet branches
And whisper an unanswered prayer.
In the morning, unthinking, I reach out--

stop playing soft

of course, you’re not there....