Suc Can Produce | Blog

Songbird

(Intro)

I wrote this song with many tears, over many years,
And its the one thing I am certain I did right,
This is for the Songbirds that loved us as much as we had let them,
In the short time they were given.

(Chorus) – “Songbirds”

Song birds hum, but their hearts pump love,
And there’s only so much that we can take before it’s done,
But it’s never sung away, heres your dove we replay,
I know we aren’t song enough, you were the one’s to serenade us,

Our Mother of the child’s, in light of under smile,
You kept our necks cupped, too young to be in sun,
With the author of the held, head pressed against the timer,
Song as strong as ever, as forever played through us.

(Bridge) – “Silence”

For our second Mothers and Uncles, Songbirds and loves lost,
Mothers and Fathers, best friends and brothers,
The songs of your natures, brought us straight home for summer,
Please take a moment (just), to listen to our Songbirds in silence.

<4 bars of someone whispering/singing over the rainbow>

(Verse 1) – “Above the Steinway”

The brush stroke grazed her cheek, the paint came to life,
Her skin filled to pink, her hand touched my face,
A familiar heat, a smiling Monet,
My favorite Aunt K, what did you always say?

(Oh my God, I love you so much…)

You really meant it, everytime,
I’m sorry that we chose to fight Thanksgiving that last visit,
Now in colored eyes K, watch my art above the Steinway,
And though the paint is dry, it makes me cry to sing your praise, but I’m trying,

So follow me today, let’s fight the pain away in harmony,
Running as we float along these Summers of eternity,
Where all is lost forever, but nothing is forgotten,
The ocean catches feathers and they rest along the bottom,

Like famous painted artists raising sculptors of volcanos,
Hold another spot for us lost above before my heart explodes,
In the flooded valley of tomorrow’s blood, until we forget to wake up,
Listen to me now because it hurts enough to speak up.

(Chorus) – “Songbirds”

Song birds hum but their hearts pump love,
And there’s only so much that we can take before it’s done,
But it’s never sung away, here’s your dove we replay,
I know we aren’t song enough, you were the one’s to serenade us,

Our Mother of the child’s, in light of under smile,
You kept our necks cupped, too young to be in sun,
With the author of the held, head pressed against the timer,
Song as strong as ever, as forever played through us.

(Verse 2) – “Am I Ready?”

Am I ready for the next life? when’s that?
And when we perish do we ever come back?
Can we ever be remembered for the heavens we imagined?
In the letters we invented, to resend our
lonely patterns?

In an effort not to fly away before I write my answers,
A son with more to say, along the waves, and hope you catch it,
Fame and free attraction here was never my objective,
This was aggression towards heaven, to beg me to ascension,

Creation is the death of belief and the birth of all reality,
By this middle chapter I find my aim is
feeding each insanity,
Fragility breathing invincibility, eating air thats keen on killing me,
In vane to grow my Allen Poe, that shows a scarecrow to my family,

And brought me songs of pain, for all the joy that I was making,
The labor gave me pause to wonder, who exactly is my worth playing for?
Useless beauty martyed in a vase that holds no water,
Song bird in my heart (always) I cry for more than longer.

(Alt Chorus) – “Storms for the Pain”

Singing storms for the pain, let it rain, let it pour,
Pain make it go away, hope can wait a little longer now,

I rise low, I fly solo, I die slow, I rhyme gold,
I’m afraid,
Were all in this alone when we listen to our storms for the pain,

Storms for the pain, let it rain and let it go,
Pain make a rainbow, hope it made its way home,
I rise asleep, I fly away, I die awake, I rhyme free, I’m not afraid (just today)
Were all in this alone when we sit and write our storms over the rainbow.

(Verse 3) – “First Born”

My darling…

I’ve had the keys to his apartment 3 months and one day,
Unable to even muster up the strength enough to (face the first one) unlock the door,
Its been 3 months and this morning since I lost my first born,
But I woke up today and heard a whisper,
a silent whistle amidst the storm

So I took the ride over as I had done many times before,
This time I put the car in park, walked out, and through the door,
It’s still, quiet, the curtains drawn,
The smell of vacancy and him withdrawn,
I sat down at the piano, it wasnt dusty, everything else around it was,

The keys feel heavy and old, all the weight they bore showing,
He left things in a very particular order when he cared enough,
Though my love he wasn’t talented, he practiced night and day making his songs,
And much underslept, his storms for the pain filled the walls,

But there in lies his strength, to write the things he couldnt say into his language,
He must have known that we would listen back, before another artist paints our portait,
All of his faults bleeding into metaphors, from notes at different angles,
He cried along in tandem with each conflicted admission, and glass epiphany,

He must’ve believed that if he hid his blessed blood for long enough,
That once we all heard, and learned, his severed love could stop the bleeding,
And for some, this was their realization, but I’ll never learn the meaning,
A Mother of the singing only loves him for his heart, not the beating.

(Chorus) – “Songbirds”

Song birds hum but their hearts pump love,
And there’s only so much that we can take before it’s done,
But it’s never sung away, here’s your dove we replay,
I know we aren’t song enough, you were the one’s to serenade us,

Our Mother of the child’s, in light of under smile,
You kept our necks cupped, too young to be in sun,
With the author of the held, head pressed against the timer,
Song as strong as ever, as forever played through us.

(Bridge) – “Silence”

For our second Mothers and Uncles, Songbirds and loves lost,
Mothers and Fathers, best friends and brothers,
The songs of your natures, brought us straight home for summer,
Please take a moment (just), to listen to our Songbirds in silence.

<4 bars of someone whispering/singing over the rainbow>

(Outro) – “Pay it Forward”

The brush stroke grazed her cheek, the paint came to life,
Her skin filled to pink, her hand touched my face,
A familiar heat, a smile so alive,
My favorite Aunt K, did she have to die?

Songbird
Written and Edited by Suc
Produced by Suc and Kenny Truhn
Credit – “Over The Rainbow” by IZ 🙏

@suc_can_produce
@kennytruhnmusic