Bill Crandall
New song-in-progress, written about those despairing moments when you ask yourself, are we (the US) slipping into some form of actual fascism? Should I get out now, go somewhere else? Those times when the best you can hope for is in your inner world, in your own spirituality, whatever you choose to call that thing that gets you through. I was stuck for a third verse, then along came some sharp, courageous teenagers. First significant turn for the better in quite a while.
Since I so often go on about how art should be relevant, addressing the times, figured I should do so more directly myself:
The Days
I can’t take it all
I’d leave and leave it all behind
If I was made to
And you’d come along
But I can’t leave it all
I stay and ready for a fight
Will I wait too long
Or will it come around
The days I find You
Are the days that are good enough
And then here they come
Ok and leading on
They were made to
Lean on
The days I find You
Are the days that are good enough