Here is one of the most musically interesting songs I wrote early on.
I can’t say it’s one of the most positive LOL.
I wrote it Freshman year at SUNY Purchase.
It’s admittedly a bit angst filled and dramatic but that’s part of being a teen moving towards adult hood…
I was noticing the flowers this week of the maple trees as well as the gravel by the side of the highway with it’s little bits of old glass and it reminded me of this song…
The two friends I reference in the song, “Tell me Joe, Tell me Stan…” lived on my dorm hall. I lost track of Joe but Stan went on to become the famous actor, Stanley Tucci…
Anyway if you listen closely this is a recording of an actual vinyl LP record… my second “release” called, “The Hesitant Journey”, (“which is not available in any stores” as the old TV Commercial used to say). Can you hear the background crackle?
This is the project recorded in 1982 or 1983 where I met the legendary Gene Moore who is playing bass on this tune. It was also a theme Album where I went from doubt to faith. The idea was to market it to the newly emerging Contemporary Christian Music scene. However, it wasn’t “Jesusy” enough for those folks. But it was too Spiritual for other situations. There’s an hour long story here about this Album… Blecch! Let’s just listen to the song shall we?
Please click the arrow to play:
The Glass That Dares Itself To Shatter
Song #25 | November 1978 | Album: The Hesitant Journey
They say we drive fast
But if we could
I’m sure we’d go much faster
We are the glass
I’ve heard it said
That dares itself to shatter
We are the blossoms of the maple trees
That look like chandeliers
We laugh and dance in the breeze awhile
But even before Spring is Gone
We’re no longer here…
They ask about goals
But we just shrug
And leave it all to circumstances
They talk about losing and winning
And all our wasted chances
They’re always holding us and polishing
And trying to see through us
But we only allow them sto see themselves
As the owners of faces that years
Of giving have lent…
Tell me Joe
Tell me Stan
Is there any escape in thinking?
Or in large amounts of late night drinking?
And if our lives are all we have
What we have is not half bad
And if our souls are much abused
At least they can’t say that they’re not used
And one night while I was walking home
I saw your faces and mine
In the gravel and sand the the pieces of glass
by the side of the road…
They say we drive fast
But if we could
I’m sure we’d go much faster
We are the glass
I’ve heard it said
That dares itself to shatter
We are the blossoms of the maple trees
That look like chandeliers
We laugh and dance in the breeze awhile
But even before Spring is Gone
We’re no longer here…
Copyright 1978-2015 by Mark Shepard. All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.
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