Last night I had the honor of listening to a dear friend cover one of my songs, "No More Sunsets" at the Red Devil Lounge Open Mic.
It's amazing what you feel when hearing you work infused with someone else's soul. It was thrilling. Thrilling in a "Holy shit. Should i not be here?" kind of way. I mean, is this the very definition of narcissism to be present while someone covers you? Like witnessing your own roast from the front row. Or funeral.
"Here lies Roem Baur's body of work... His intimate moments, retold."
It was creepy. Embarrassing to be confronted with your own mortality. In a bar. In front of your peers.
I was humbled. And I couldn't stop staring. Frozen. Deer in headlights. Someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind and I nearly yelped.
"Isn't that your song?" he asked. I said "yes," but I thought, "No, not anymore, I don't think."
So now I'm letting go of a song that brings chills to me when I sing it, so close and personal, now... when someone else does.
When I first recorded and set it free into the world, I thought my attachment to my creation was gone. But now, like seeing an old flame, feelings bubbled to the surface. Now I'm letting go again.
I had to pull the quill off of the page again.
Make new promises to myself.
Close the casket.
That song now has ghosts. Once haunting, now haunted.
So thank you, Alan Monasch for your chilling reminder and the absolute honor to bless my song with immortality. You have helped me see myself in a new way.
Viva la musica, indeed.
Today on my facebook page, my SXSW coconspirator, Tae Phoenix, commented that she would like to cover my song "Fear Of Waking".
So, at the risk of narcissism, or worse, here it is.
Lyrics, chords and the song.
Fear of Waking
© 2012 Roem Baur Music (BMI)Verse: D - G :||
Chorus: Em - G - E - G, D - G :||
I never meant to hate
Your sprawling across the bed
Cutting off my circulation
My heart underneath your head
I couldn’t feel my fingers
Move across your face
Now I can’t feel any warmth
Left in your negative space
I close my eyes
To see your ghost
But closing my eyes, doesn’t help me dream
It’s not the nightmare of sleep
It’s the fear of waking
And done all I know to do
But I’m still not waking next to you, no.
So I’ll meet the moon for a midnight stroll
Find tea and sympathy in its cold glow
Maybe join a bird right before the sunrise
I’ll pretend to know the words, until the great reprise
The pills lack the prescription to seduce my fear
Nor the milky way of powder
Nor the kegs full of beer
Now I’m lying in strange bed
Waiting for a moment of truth
But I’m still not falling asleep
I’m not waking next to you
It must have been your skin, against my skin.