Tonight I scribbled out what is probably the most personal song I've done to date in about 10 or 15 minutes while we were at practice. Brent had suggested he wanted this new one to be about insanity, which has been a big theme for us in conversation this week. So I penned a little ditty based somewhat on a conversation we had till 5am on Tuesday. While Brent was showing Andy & Mark the tune part, I went out into the hallway to get away from what they were playing and to clear my head enough to write. While I was out there, this rockabilly boy started loading out, and his cart was too wide for both of us to be in the hallway at the same time, so I kept having to get up and move. He said "OK, if I've inspired you at all, I want album credit. If I've made you move and thus changed the direction the song is going in, I want my name on it!" I thought about throwing in a line about a hallucination of a man with a handcart, but since most of my lyrics tend to make actual sense it probably wouldn't have worked. So, sorry, guy.

Brent says he doesn't mind if I use the intensely personal stuff in our lives as fodder for songs, but I don't think I'm really going to go that route. I'd rather keep things loosely based and vague than to write about the things we actually talk about, do, or experience, mostly because I'm not that comfy with total strangers knowing intimate details about my life and also because if people knew the stuff we actually talk about on any given day, and how horrible and cruel and catty and snarky we are, and the length and breadth of our superiority complexes, we'd probably not have any other friends left. Also, getting personal involves a lot more thought than I actually put into things, and the more I think about lyrics, the more trite and maudlin they get. Better to toss out a general parable in fifteen minutes, with the voice of Everyman, than tell everyone what's Laura's damage this week.