Pusher (Spurgie’s Song)

I’m in from work, the week behind the bar now done, and my body is tired but my head is abuzz. I was pleased with the turnout here on the site today, and while I only know for certain one person who stopped by, I have the feeling that there were some first timers, judging by the list of posts that were read.

I forget sometimes you all don’t know me, which makes me tend to write for those who do. Now, being that my body is dogged out from the week at work, but my mind is still pretty alert, I thought I’d post something for those newcomers.

I wrote “Pusher” in 2006, and if I had to choose a piece of verse that I at least hope is indicative of my style, this would be the one. Despite saying that, it is unique in various ways. The first part was written and then a couple of months later I finished it. It was written as a piece of spoken word to be fit to a musical jam session, hence the subtitle “Spurgie’s Song.”

I was jamming with The Spurgie Hankins Band on Tuesday nights then, doing some free-style and forming some of my spoken word to the band’s efforts, and I thought I should write something original for what we were doing. This is what I came up with.

 

“Pusher”

(Spurgie’s Song)

 

Let’s define this night with music;

let’s line the path with sound;

we’ll pave the road

with tones and notes

that raise our feet up off the ground.

We’ll find ourselves a solitude

like no one’s ever found,

a peace, a trance, a sonic romance

that’ll keep our spirits spinning around.

 

We’ll sing our song for all men,

lift our voices to the sky.

We’ll make the dark and cynical

stop and wonder why

we live life with such verve,

such passion, and such hope;

tell them that

between the waves

we found the pusher,

and music is our dope.

 

We’ve emptied our share of bottles

and burned down plenty pipes.

We’ve weebled and wobbled drunkenly

through tortured and forgotten nights.

We’ve sought release in money,

in successes, and in loves,

but only music gives the kind of calm

that we’ve been dreaming of.

 

So let’s dedicate this night to music;

we’ll find infinity in these sounds.

We can rave and jive and funk and vibe and

find a reason for this

hanging around.

For what else could we want

than pleasant passage of our time?

And since I’ve brought my passions

to mix with yours,

won’t you mix yours with mine?

 

We’ll sing our song for all men;

lift our voices to the sky;

we’ll make the dark and cynical

stop and wonder why

we live life with such verve,

such promise, and such hope.

Tell them that

between the waves

we’ve found the pusher,

and music is our dope.

Music is our dope.

Music is our dope.