Lyric Inspiration

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Lyric Inspiration

Post by Gadreille on Mon Apr 12, 2010 1:35 pm

I don't know if this is a game, but it is something that Silvone and I recently started playing. Basically, you listen to a song, examine the lyrics and then write a story inspired by all or part of the lyrics.

There is no length requirement for the story, it can be written as an actual story or as a plot idea. The only rule is that whatever lyrics you post must include a link to somewhere where the song can be heard. Often the music changes your feelings about the lyrics, so it is important that they can be listened to. Don't worry about what everyone else says the song "Means". Just write about what it means to you! Who knows, an awesome RP idea may come of this Smile




So, here is an example:

Muse, Exogenesis Part I
Aping my soul
You stole my overture
Trapped in God's program
Oh I can't escape

who are we?
where are we?
when are we?
why are we?
who are we?
where are we?
why, why, why?

I can't forgive you
and I can't forget

who are we?
where are we?
when are we?
why are we in here?

who are we?
where are we?
when are we?
why are we in here?

Response:

A man, a king, a warrior...he's lost his beloved in a war who's purpose he has long forgotten. Hatred fills his heart, and revenge is all he can feel. Against the will of his people, he pushes the war on with a hatred for all who oppose him, for if it weren't for them, his love would still be alive. Pleas to end the war come from his own as well as his enemy, but he will not forgive them for their crimes. He is lost in a sea of hatred.




Again, your response can be as long or as short as you want.
Ready? Here is the first set of lyrics:

U2, One
Is it getting better
Or do you feel the same
Will it make it easier on you now
You got someone to blame
You say...

One love
One life
When it's one need
In the night
One love
We get to share it
Leaves you baby if you
Don't care for it

Did I disappoint you
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without
Well it's...

Too late
Tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We're one, but we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other
One...

Have you come here for forgiveness
Have you come to raise the dead
Have you come here to play Jesus
To the lepers in your head

Did I ask too much
More than a lot
You gave me nothing
Now it's all I got
We're one
But we're not the same
Well we
Hurt each other
Then we do it again
You say
Love is a temple
Love a higher law
Love is a temple
Love the higher law
You ask me to enter
But then you make me crawl
And I can't be holding on
To what you got
When all you got is hurt

One love
One blood
One life
You got to do what you should
One life
With each other
Sisters
Brothers
One life
But we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other

One...life

One
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Re: Lyric Inspiration

Post by Attie on Tue Apr 20, 2010 3:44 pm

There was a man who did no wrong, and that was especially the case when it came to the woman he loved. The woman he loved was above everything else in the world, no matter if it made sense or not.

So, it was tragic when he found out of the cancer she'd been diagnosed with, and the limit of days she had left to live with him.

The two were young love birds, fresh eighteen and twenty, and believed more than ever in the power of love. The girl was devastated with what she'd been told by the doctors and grew bitter. Every small lover's quarrel that she'd ever had with the boy, she brought up. She needed the burried past to aid her in reasoning against him loving her. It was in all of her being to make him fall out of love with her before she died, so that he would not be wounded as her life would be.

The man protested, devoting his love to her without a second thought, despite the things she brought up to tempt him otherwise. To her surprise, on the day before she would die, the boy came in with a wheel chair and begged her to come on a walk with him. She cried and struggled, but eventually gave in, allowing him to carry her from the bed since she was too weak to sit or stand up herself.

They walked the halls, he pushed her slow and fast to give her the last feelings of adrenaline that she'd ever had. He told her of all the things he'd do in her name, and when she was about to open her mouth again to tell him not to love her, still, her eyes opened to the hospital's waiting room.

Streamers and balloons almost hid a preacher who stood tall underneath an arch way, followed by her parents, his parents, and as many of their closest friends and family members that they could fit in the room, all sitting and waiting as the Bride's March began to play quietly.

The wedding was as beautiful as the man could make it, having to plan it within a week, and when the bride and groom kissed there was no doubt in the world of the love that the two shared.

Today, when people see that groom, they still see the bride's blush within his eyes.



I am not sure. Is this the part where I would post up lyrics for someone else to write a story to? If so, then here we go. If not, disregard them and I will delete them as soon as I get told what an idiot I am. ^^



Within Temptation - "Bittersweet"
If I tell you
Will you listen?
Will you stay?
Will you be here forever?
Never go away?
Never thought things would change, hold me tight
Please don't say again that you have to go

A bitter thought
I had it all
But I just let it go
Hold your silence
It's so violence since you're gone

All my thoughts are with you forever
'Till the day we'll be back together
I will be waiting for you

If I had told you
You would've listened
You had stayed
You would be here forever
Never went away

It would never have been all the same
All our time what have been in vain
Cause you had to go

The sweetest thought
Had it all
Cause I did let you go
All our moments keep me warm
When you're gone

All my thoughts are with you forever
'Till the day we'll be back together
I will be waiting for you
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Re: Lyric Inspiration

Post by Gadreille on Sat Mar 19, 2011 6:38 pm

Yes, you did it right. Sorry, I kind of forgot about this, here it goes:


Letha drove home from the doctors office, the busy world flying by her window...she didn't even see it. She had just found out that she was dying. It might be years...or months. Letha ran different words through her head, trying to find a way to tell her lover, Michael, that she will not be with him for long. I am strong, she told herself. But inside she was terrified...and didn't want to face his possible rejection. She walked into the house, and found Michael sitting at the table, reading the paper. She stormed over to him, anger seeping through her tears, and screamed at him that it is over. She told him that she is no longer in love with him anymore, that she never was. He tried to argue but she wouldn't listen. She breaks his heart, and he leaves...

She went on, living alone, growing sicker not only in body but in soul.

When she was in her final moments of life, she began regretting her decision. She decided to try and find him again...but didn't know where he had gone. She reaches out with letters, calls...and hoped that someday, before she dies, he'd come back to her again. Little did she know, he'd already gone...commited suicide from despair.

Then she died...alone. Perhaps they will meet again?




In The Glass - OK GO
At first there was
There was just no question
Who wouldn't rather be there reflection
When I get here everything was cold and perfect
When I get here everything was cold and perfect

It was clear and bright
Like a midwinter sunlight
My heartbeat counting down a moment precise and quiet
I look out and saw my own reflection helpless
I look out and saw him overwhelmed and helpless

[Chorus:]
But I
What have I done what have I done
Oooooo (Oh) what have I done
Ooohhhh what have I done
My God, what have I done
Oooo (OH) what have I done
Ooh what have I done

As time went on
You could feel a silence
Solidifying the sound of my thoughts, paralizing
I tried to come back to and melt the glass and perfect
I tried to come back to and melt the glass and perfect

[Chorus:]
But I
What have I done what have I done
Oooooo (Oh) what have I done
Ooohhhh what have I done
My God, what have I done
Oooh oooo what we can pay
To get what you want
Oooh to get what you want
Oh what have I done

[Repeat x5:]
Every day is the same
We're praying for rain
When it finally came
Oh when it came
Everyday was the same
Still praying for rain
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Re: Lyric Inspiration

Post by Moon Ray on Sun Jun 24, 2012 7:21 pm

Ended up a bit longer than I first intended:

Spoiler:

Once upon a time there was a very gentle wizard called Noel Gates. His magical talents lay in photomancy and he was rarely seen without a camera couched in his palms, eyes squinting as he looked up at the petals of a daisy in the garden, or across the street to a cat sleeping on a car. He was shy and the upstanding neighbors of Palace Drive didn't know Noel well; they thought him odd and perhaps slow -one of those children who never quite grow up.

So the neighbors didn't think it odd that he, at 27 years, lived with his younger sister, Jacquelyn Gates. As gentle and soft-spoken as Noel was, his sister was not. His sister was a fire witch -evidenced by her red hair and burning temper. She was passionate, vivacious, and she burned with in-expendable energy. And she chaffed at the quiet existence of Palace Drive.

Noel knew his sister's moods by the time he was 27 and she 22. When he spoke too loudly one day, jarring the raw nerves during one of her headaches, he was prepared with an album of emergency photos. With a shot spell, he healed the blackened, raggedly bleeding hand print around his neck; another spell reset the livingroom to rights. When he found his sister contemplating the neighbor's cat after it had left a dead mole on the front walk, he knew to spirit the feline away into a picture world of sunbeams and songbirds. When the neighbors came by to extend an invitation to an afternoon garden party, he suddenly found a reason to visit his gallery in the city -necessitating that Jacquelyn drive him there for the day.

There was no doubt that Jacquelyn was dangerous. If it had been only that, perhaps Noel would have known what to do. He might have done as his mother suggested before she died in a gas explosion on the freeway: trapped Jacquelyn in an endless prison where she could harm no one. Or he might have done as his father did: run away to the furthest, most peaceful corner of the world to hide for the remainder of his lifetime.

But Jaquelyn was also cheerful, warm, accepting, brave. Despite her youth, she had always seemed to be the elder sibling. In small, thoughtless ways she protected Noel. When the old house shook with springtime storms -the broken powerlines flooding them in darkness, the thunder roaring like a predatory beast- Jacquelyn made the candles glow. She even designated one lick of flame to follow Noel about like a guiding fairy, and he'd been comforted even between the light of the common rooms. When strangers in the gallery wanted to talk about his pictures, she jumped in -bright and cheery- to distract them until he was comfortable enough to talk. As children, she had defended him from bullies -becoming so angry on his behalf. Even as adults, when the neighbors demanded to know what he had done with their cat -suspicious of his quiet, secretive ways; suspicious of his intentions when he pointed his camera at children, or a young woman- Jacquelyn had sent them away. She had made tea and told them lies as easily as laughing -made them think Noel was working on an animal project; that they would name the owners in the gallery, if their cat was used; that if the cat was missing, they should hold themselves responsible for letting it play outside near the street; that they would all be on the lookout for the lost animal. The neighbors had left contrite, but hoping Noel could make them famous among the artistic elite.

Noel could not leave his sister. He would have been lonely without someone to accompany him, as she sometimes did, on his missions of magical experimentation. He relied on her shamefully, to protect him from those things where his courage failed him. And as the older brother, as he sometimes remembered he was, he couldn’t do anything but be on her side –even when her temper got the better of her. He did his best and he hoped his sister could calm down as she got older.

There was an incident with House No. 23 on Palace Drive. Jacquelyn had fallen in love with the young man there –despite the man’s wife. Jacquelyn had resorted to magic to get what she desired, but young as she was, she had been unable to control it well. The man died, burnt beyond recognition during the course of the affair. The wife, who had suspected something between Jacquelyn and her husband, had attacked in her grief. Jacquelyn cursed the woman and Noel –who just wanted his peaceful existence to be free of suspicious glances and police investigations- had covered the entire incident up. He trapped the cursed woman in a photograph, called up photo-shades to pretend to be the missing couple, and made it seem as if they moved away. The neighbors thought the young couple had moved to India and the police reported that as well.

Two years later, somebody thought to sell No. 23 on Palace Drive and a woman, Angelique Queensgrove, moved in. Angelique was not a powerful witch, and she had no intention of becoming embroiled in trouble, but she knew enough to ask a few discrete questions. The answers led her to the Gates’ house, so she quietly observed the young Gates. Noel, feeling the stare, noticed Angelique’s attention. He ducked his head, blushing, and pointed his camera at a rollypolly bug on the sidewalk. When he went out to collect the mail, Angelique was still watching, and he hurried inside to put the door between them. He heard her ask the neighbors about him, and his muscles tensed even in the privacy of his own workroom. He saw her peer curiously at the garden –the organized riot of color and life. The next day he took extra care to feed the roots without upsetting the delicate flower heads.

“That woman has been staring at our house quite a lot,” Jacquelyn commented one morning, crunching through a piece of blackened toast. She was looking out the picture window, bathed in midmorning sunlight. Her long hair, freed to a disordered cascade of wide curls, became brilliant in sunlight. As if the burning power of the sun called out to and awoke a sister spirit in the red tresses. Noel itched to pick up his camera before her words registered in his mind.

“Really?” he stalled, wondering if his sister might still be half asleep. It made him nervous when she noticed people specifically; few could survive the “burning” interest. But her attention would often wander on quickly enough if there was nothing of interest there.

“You haven’t noticed? She watches you every time you step outside.” The blue eyes pulled away from the street and focused on Noel. In their color was the heart of a flame, shining and true.

“Ah. She’s just curious, I think.” Noel focused on shaking powdered sugar over his own toast. “She’s new to the neighborhood; she probably just wants to meet us. Maybe I’ll say ‘Hi’ later today.”

“Maybe she likes you,” Jacquelyn said. Startled, Noel knocked the cinnamon to the floor. Jacquelyn laughed and he tried to pretend she could be right.

In fact, he was surprised to find that his sister had predicted truly. He did speak to Angelique, hoping to dissuade her from taking any further interest in the Gates’ house. It had been a stuttering, difficult conversation, but Angelique had somehow managed to see through his nervous niceties and asked him to lunch. They had a lot in common. She was an artist as well –a sculptor. She admired his care of the garden, and they traded clippings. Herbs were much more important to her magic than Noel’s, but she was willing to hear advice on growing care. She guessed what had happened to the missing cat, and she never asked for details about the previous owners of No 23. When Jacquelyn refused to stay up in a damp field to take photos of stars and nighttime clouds, Angelique kept him company.

And for herself, Angelique was a beautiful person. She resembled the angel she was named for -blonde hair and soft eyes. She spoke softly and people leaned forward to listen. She didn't say a word against the kids that woke everyone up Saturday morning with a fistful of firecrackers; she gave them seeds to let them try their hands at gardening. Noel found himself relaxing beside the woman, more easily than he ever did.

It was perhaps some base instinct that urged Noel to keep Angelique from his sister. Jacquelyn was aware of the growing relationship: she laughed at him when he brushed his hair flat before going out, she bought him a shirt that brought out the color of his eyes and earned a compliment from Angelique. When the women saw each other in passing, they inclined their heads to each other like two Kung Fu masters acknowledging each other on the battlefield. But Noel always breathed a sigh of relief when neither made more attempt to meet.

So it was a surprise when, one Sunday, both Angelique and Jacquelyn suggested he introduce them. Jacquelyn, over breakfast, asked, "Are you going to introduce me to your new lady friend ever?"

Noel fumbled his glass, feeling as if he'd been hit by a thin strand of wayward lightning. "Ah. If- if you want- I was going to-"

Then, independently of that conversation, Angelique met him at the picket fence by the back garden. "I think I should meet your sister soon, Noel," she murmured. "Will you introduce us?"

"I, ah, I wasn't going to- I didn't mean to make you think-" Noel stuttered over a response before Angelique's calm settled across him. He glanced towards the house, assuring himself that Jacquelyn was not home, listening in. "She can be a little, ...abrupt," he explained weakly. "She doesn't always like people right away, and she-"

"She is a fire witch," Angelique said, as if that summed it up. In one respect, it did; Noel nodded.

"She's not so bad," he tried, in defense of his sister. "She has a temper, but she doesn't really mean to let it burn everywhere. She tries- She feels bad if it gets out of control. And most of the time, she's nice."

"I am sure. She is your sister, after all," Angelique smiled reassuringly. Noel swallowed, and realized he didn't want Angelique to underestimate that temper either.

"You can't always tell, though. Sometimes -when she's upset- she still smiles and-"

"She is a fire witch," Angelique repeated, amused by Noel's fumbling. "Whether burning, banked, or fuming."

So they met, with Noel bridging the meeting. They drank iced tea in the garden. Jacquelyn sparked beneath the filtered sunlight, cheerful and warm. Angelique talked softly about her skill with domestic conifers. Jacquelyn told a story about a summer trip to the desert than made Noel blush. Angelique admired the fire witch's hair. "The shine makes it look like it's burning," she breathed.

"Do you know what color a witch burns?" Jacquelyn asked, idly twisting a lock of her own hair.

Angelique looked startled, but answered, "The same color as any other person, I expect."

"Oh no. I regular person burns like any mundane animal, fur aside. A person without magic will burn the same color as any meat."

"Jack-" Noel coughed.

"Magic, though, burns white. It's so bright that you can read any number of colors in it. Noel's photomancy burns in blues, mostly. At least, as far as I can tell without killing him." Angelique shot him a horrified look, as if looking for the burn scars she had somehow missed. Noel felt his blush rise, even as his tension did. "Our mother's magic burned blue too -though that might have been some of the accelerant. It was mostly a gas fire."

"Did you burn her?" Angelique asked faintly. Noel half stood as she touched upon a subject that had been left forgotten for years. Angelique turned white and then pink when she realized what she had asked.

"Do you want more?" Noel asked her hurriedly, lifting the pitcher of iced tea. Condensation ran down the glass sides, like beads of sweat the photomancer could feel gathering on his face.

"Please." Angelique looked like she wanted to apologize, but Jacquelyn was smiling.

"Oh, yes. Our mother was just so annoying. And she threatened to send Noel away to boarding school. I had to kill her."

"That- didn't happen," Noel put in, for Angelique's sake. His sister had an odd sense of humor.

"Now, you..." Jacquelyn looked their guest up and down -considering her. "You wouldn't try to take my brother away from me, right?"

Noel felt green. Angelique tried a smile, "I'd just borrow him for awhile."

"Of course," Jacquelyn's smile was angelic. "I have perfected the gas fire since my mother's time. It's easier to watch the colors now."

"Indeed?" Angelique asked, having obviously decided Jacquelyn was kidding.

The meeting ended on that strange note. When Angelique left, Noel watched his sister dispose of the left over snacks in a contained blaze, hot enough to push him to the door of the house. He would have carried the pitcher of ice tea in, but Jacquelyn waved him away. She picked up the glass Angelique had used and cupped it in her hand, raising a flame that collapsed the glass in on itself.

That night Noel didn't sleep. He sat up in his workroom, listening to his heart pound. If there was ever anything he wanted to do, it was keep Angelique safe. His sister was a direct threat to that goal. Around and around, he watched those two thoughts chase each other through his head. His only conclusion, was that he should be prepared.

He was not particularly surprised when he saw Jacquelyn up the next morning, confronting Angelique over the garden fence. Catching the sight of them from the window, he froze. He couldn't hear what they said, but he saw Jacquelyn's back arch in the way she did when she was angry. Angelique moved her arms expressively -sharp, and definitive. The heat rose off Jacquelyn's shoulders in a shimmering wave.

Before he knew it, Noel was running. The door slammed open and he bolted across the patio. His only thought was to get between Angelique and his sister -not even aware of what he would do when he got there.

"emble in! I'm sure-" Noel arrived in the middle of Angelique's angry yell. Instinctively, he pulled his sister around by the arm. She stumbled two steps and fixed him with the brunt of her ire -fire licked her wake and she raised a hand up sharply to push him away. The next moment pain blossomed across Noel's chest. Her fingernails dug into his skin, blistering and blackening the flesh before wide eyes. The all-too-familiar smell of burning meat rose around them. Noel found himself kneeling, shirtless, on the earth when Jacquelyn pulled away. He urged his lungs to breathe.

"What did you do?!"

"Noel!"

Angelique put a hand on his shoulder. She was saying something -a spell maybe. The pain dimmed, and so did his vision. The girls' voices were raised, thrown viciously above his head.

"Don't touch him again!"

"You have no right to say that!"

He only wanted everything to be peaceful, like it was. In his mind Angelique was so quiet spoken, so happy surrounded by the soft earth and fresh clippings. She smiled at him and effortlessly broke through his stuttering nervousness. He wanted that forever. Working past the usual pain, he forced himself to focus, and pressed the button on his camera.

"Noel-"

His sister was meant to be that fiery personality that woke slowly in the dawn, munching on toast in her pajamas. She teased and was sometimes cruel, but she loved too -he knew she did. The camera clicked again. She should stay like that forever.

Silence descended and Noel soaked it in, breathing. Breathing, breathing, trying not to scream with the pain of it.

He fixed himself up in the usual way. His emergency photo album reminded his skin what it should look like. The burns disappeared and his skin returned to it's usual smooth pink. His heart was still pounding though, and he hurried to his workroom. Developing the pictures was the most difficult part. He had practice though; he didn't make any mistakes.

At least, the magic turned out right.

The evening Noel took Angelique to the attic room. The walls were covered with photos. Every wall, every section was layered with picture frames. The surfaces of the tables and desk, were lined with albums. There were even stacks on the floor. Noel took down a large black frame, holding Palace Drive on a summer day. The cat lounging on the sidewalk sat up when the frame was moved, watching with interest. In its place Noel raised Angelique's frame.

She smiled at him gently. She knelt in the garden, watering a bed of small conifers. The warm sun caught her hair and made her skin glow. Noel didn't know what to say and Angelique offered nothing. She only smiled, safe behind the glass pane of the picture frame.

All around the room, it was peaceful and safe. Animals slept. A girl jumped rope. An elderly couple rocked in a porch swing, watching him -smiling gently. They were all safe here. The silence grated on his ears like nails on a chalk board. It made his stomach clench.

The woman from No. 23, before Angelique had arrived, watched him from fogged blue eyes. She was blind -her vision destroyed by sunspots. But she knew when he opened the door and followed his passage. He couldn't stay in the attic peace any longer.

"Did you think I would destroy the woman you loved?" Jacquelyn had asked as her photo dried in the dark room.

Now she burned in his breast pocket. Her red hair had become long tongues of flame. He felt the heat through the fabric of his shirt, scorching his skin. Even in a photo, she burned him. But she couldn't escape the spell of the picture. No one could. There was no way to return her to the world. She didn't say anything more after that first question. She just glared at him, rage burning around her.

The neighbors heard later that Angelique Queensgrove had moved to India. Nobody asked about the pretty young woman with red hair that used to live at the Gates' place. They saw her brother sometimes though, tending the garden or snapping photos of passing clouds. Some thought he seemed sad. Every once in awhile he would pull a photo out of his shirt pocket and speak softly to the face held there. The photo never answered, of course, and if he enjoyed any comfort from it, it was not well evident.

The End.

I now have OK GO stuck in my head. I hope you're happy. That was fun though.



Next song:

"Down By The Bay" by All Kinds of Kids and Campers (and Raffi)

Down by the bay
where the watermelons grow
back to my home
I dare not go
for if I do
my mother will say
"Did you ever see a dog drinking pirate grog
down by the bay?"

Down by the bay
where the watermelons grow
back to my home
I dare not go
for if I do
my mother will say
"Did you ever see a car parked in a bar
down by the bay?"

Down by the bay
where the watermelons grow
back to my home
I dare not go
for if I do
my mother will say
"Did you ever see a fox playing for the sox
down by the bay?"

Down by the bay
where the watermelons grow
back to my home
I dare not go
for if I do
my mother will say
"Did you ever see a bear kissing a mare
down by the bay?"

Down by the bay
where the watermelons grow
back to my home
I dare not go
for if I do
my mother will say
"Did you ever see a swan mowing the lawn
down by the bay?"

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Obviously one makes up their own rhymes for this song. Good times.
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