“Blood Spilled On Your Strings” [music video]
LIVING-ROOM VIDEO #49: “Blood Spilled On Your Strings”. This is a song hot off the press, just completed today. It’s a big fat metaphor. See the video for details. I hope it resonates. The lyrics are below:
If there’s no blood on your strings,
then you’ve never really played:
Consanguinated metal makes the grade.
When there’s no blood on that spruce
and your fingers ain’t been shred,
then you’re not a real player, like I said.
If your guitar is newly strung
but it sits at home unpicked,
then you’ll never know its beauty, I predict.
For until you’ve torn your pads
when you finger all those chords,
you will never reap your instrument’s rewards.
[Refrain]
For unless you bleed out on those strings,
then you’re not prepared for what life brings —
and you’ll think it’s all just smiles,
empty fashions and some styles,
and your strings will just be bronze which never sings.
If there’s no blood on your hands
when your picking out that tune,
then the Muse to your desires will be immune.
If there’s no tears on your face
flowing freely like a flood;
then your heart is just as sterile as your blood.
For unless that blood is there,
and you’ve risked all in the spill,
you will find that you are always standing still.
Be prepared to lose it all
though you’ll never drain the tank,
even if it overflows the riverbank.
[Refrain]
For unless you bleed out on those strings,
then you’re not prepared for what life brings —
and you’ll think it’s all just smiles,
empty fashions and some styles,
and your strings will just be bronze which never sings.
Now I hope you understand,
when I say “blood” in this rhyme,
it applies to more than merely guitar time.
Thus, whenever blood’s on wood
or is splashed across your frets,
it’s a metaphor for what your voyage begets.
Darlings, if you bleed out love
with your passion-strings ideal,
then the music of your life will truly heal.
Your Creator calls the tune,
always waiting in the wings;
all the more so if there’s blood spilled on your strings.
[Refrain]
For unless you bleed out on those strings,
then you’re not prepared for what life brings —
and you’ll think it’s all just smiles,
empty fashions and some styles,
and your strings will just be bronze which never sings.
© Alan Morrison, 2020
The Naked Troubadour 