by Pat Pattison
Box 1: The hot July moon saw us down by the river having our first experience.
Box 2: The hot July moon knew that our love, like so many before (“well-beaten path”), wouldn't last.
Box 3: The hot July moon knew that, over time, we'd become unable to experience the innocence and power of first love — accumulated experiences would create too much awareness — “the fields have grown over now.”
The moon grows from an observer to a prophet and predictor of the future. It becomes a bigger and bigger moon, needing bigger and bigger boxes. When you write a chorus, each line you include has the same responsibility: to be able to gain weight.
Now look at this lyric, “Between Fathers and Sons” from John Jarvis and Gary Nicholson:
My father had so much to tell me
Things he said I had to know
Don't make my mistakes
There are rules you can't break
But I had to find out on my own
Now when I look at my own son
I know what my father went through
There's only so much you can do
You're proud when they walk
Scared when they run
That's how it always has been between fathers and sons
It's a bridge you can't cross
It's a cross you can't bear
It's the words you can't say
The things you can't change
No matter how much you care
So you do all you can
Then you've gotta let go
You're just part of the flow
Of the river that runs between fathers and sons
Your mother will try to protect you
Hold you as long as she can
But the higher you climb
The more you can see
That's something that I understand
One day you'll look at your own son
There'll be so much that you want to say
But he'll have to find his own way
On the road he must take
The course he must run
That's how it always has been between fathers and sons
It's a bridge you can't cross
It's a cross you can't bear
It's the words you can't say
The things you can't change
No matter how much you care
So you do all you can
Then you've gotta let go
You're just part of the flow
Of the river that runs between fathers and sons
Another nice lyric. For me, it really hits home, especially in the first chorus. It touches both the son and the father in me.
“Between Fathers and Sons” is made up of two boxes. Verses one and two plus the first chorus make up box one. Verses three and four plus the second chorus make the second box. Let's look at the first box:
My father had so much to tell me
Things he said I ought to know
Don't make my mistakes
There are rules you can't break
But I had to find out on my own
The speaker looks back at his father's attempts to help smooth the way ahead, and his own unwillingness to listen. Stubborn kid. Had to do it for himself when all that help was available.
Now when I look at my own son
I know what my father went through
There's only so much you can do
You're proud when they walk
Scared when they run
That's how it always has been between fathers and sons
Now the speaker is the father, going through the same things with his own son. He understands what he did to his father, but understands that it was necessary, perhaps even inevitable.
That's how it always has been between fathers and sons
I love the structure of the verse — how it tosses in an extra line (line three), refuses to rhyme lines four and five, then extends the last line to focus our attention on the title. Lovely moves. Now the chorus:
It's a bridge you can't cross
It's a cross you can't bear
It's the words you can't say
The things you can't change
No matter how much you care
So you do all you can
Then you've gotta let go
You're just part of the flow
Of the river that runs between fathers and sons
So far, very effective stuff. I've been interested the whole time. What a nifty chorus. I love the play on cross:
It's a bridge you can't cross
It's a cross you can't bear
and I love the metaphor
You're just part of the flow
Of the river that runs between fathers and sons
The river is a divider of generations, but it's also the connector of generations. Between means “separation,” but it also means “from one to the other.” The pattern repeats from father to son to father to son to father. Neat word play. Both the message and the fancy dancing sweep me along. Now look at the second box:
Your mother will try to protect you
Hold you as long as she can
But the higher you climb
The more you can see
That's something that I understand
This sounds familiar. Not that I've seen things from the mother's perspective yet, but I have seen the father — in fact, both fathers — trying to protect the child. I've also seen the child trying to go beyond the parents. Not that this information isn't interesting, it's just not new. The ideas (if not the exact perspectives — she and you) have been covered. This doesn't bode well for the second chorus. We'll need development rather than restatement to keep repetition interesting.
One day you'll look at your own son
There'll be so much that you want to say
But he'll have to find his own way
On the road he must take
The course he must run
That's how it always has been between fathers and sons
Oops. I know I've been here before. It's verse two with I changed to you. No need to try to universalize verse four with you. The idea was already universal. The second chorus is a goner. It can't help but say exactly the same thing as the first chorus.
It's a bridge you can't cross
It's a cross you can't bear
It's the words you can't say
The things you can't change
No matter how much you care
So you do all you can
Then you've gotta let go
You're just part of the flow
Of the river that runs between fathers and sons
It isn't so much that there is no advancement of the idea in verses three and four, there just isn't enough to give us a new look at the chorus when we get there. The power of this lovely chorus is diminished rather than enlarged the second time around, and we leave the song less interested than we were in the middle. Both boxes are the same size. Let's see if we can make the second box grow.
The song contains two perspectives: a son looking at his father, and the son as father. If the first box could focus only on the son looking at his father, saying:
My father had so much to tell me
Things he said I ought to know
Don't make my mistakes
There are rules you can't break
But I had to find out on my own
Verse two idea (in prose):
I kept him at arm's length.
I didn't want him interfering with my life.
He kept trying, but I wouldn't let him.
That's how it always has been between fathers and sons
Now move into the chorus:
It's a bridge you can't cross
It's a cross you can't bear
It's the words you can't say
The things you can't change
No matter how much you care
So you do all you can
Then you've gotta let go
You're just part o
f the flow
Of the river that runs between fathers and sons
We see the first chorus from the son's point of view, colored only by the son's eyes. Now the second box is free to look from the other side of the river:
Now when I look at my own son
I know what my father went through
There's only so much you can do
You're proud when they walk
Scared when they run
That's how it always has been between fathers and sons
It's a bridge you can't cross
It's a cross you can't bear
It's the words you can't say
The things you can't change
No matter how much you care
So you do all you can
Then you've gotta let go
You're just part of the flow
Of the river that runs between fathers and sons
The father's perspective colors the second chorus. It becomes — for me, at least — more interesting than the first chorus. Here is a simple principle for division of labor: Put separate ideas in separate boxes.
The problem in “Between Fathers and Sons” is that both ideas are in the first box, leaving the lyric no place new to go. Separating the ideas into separate boxes makes both choruses fresh.
DEVELOPMENT TIPS
The principle of division of labor has practical applications for your song. Say you've written a verse whose summary is:
You are really wonderful
And I've been looking for someone just like you
We should be together
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
It's difficult to see where to go next. It feels like everything's been covered. Perhaps it might help to separate the perspectives, dividing the idea into the three different perspectives: (1) you, (2) I (me), and (3) we.
Box 1: You are amazing. And beautiful. Your blonde hair flows over your milky-white complexion like chicken gravy over mashed potatoes…
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
Box 2: I've been looking for a codependent relationship for a long time. Someone who'll mother me and let me do whatever I want to…
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
Box 3: We'll always be together. Everyone I've ever loved is still with me…in the downstairs freezer…
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
Okay, just kidding. But you can see how the boxes gain weight by separating the perspectives. Call it the “you-I-we” formula for lyric development: Each verse focuses from a different perspective. It's a nice guideline for dividing your verses' jobs.
Or this — you write a verse that says:
We were so good together
But now everything's falling apart
What's going to happen to us?
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
This idea contains three tenses: past, present, and future. Try separating them into separate boxes:
Box 1: We used to smile and laugh together, etc., so much in…
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
Box 2: Everything's turned sour. What happened to…
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
Box 3: Can we work to stay together, or drift away, only remembering how it felt to be in…
Love Love Love
Love Love Love
So tense can also provide access to verse development, just like perspective can. Sometimes one or the other will be just what you need; other times, like any formula, they could take the freshness out of your writing. Be aware of these techniques, just beware of letting them become a habit in your writing.
One more tip: Just because you wrote a verse first doesn't mean it's your first verse. Give yourself two chances. Don't just ask “Where do I go next?” Try asking “What happened before this?”
Thinking about boxes from the outset, the minute an idea comes, is by far the best remedy for “second-verse hell” (songwriters' term for “Where do I go next?”).
It's better when you find an idea that contains the DNA of its own development, or when plot does the development work. Look at this lyric, “One More Dollar” from Gillian Welch:
A long time ago I left my home
For a job in the fruit trees
But I missed those hills with the windy pines
For their song seemed to suit me
So I sent my wages to my home
Said we'd soon be together
For the next good crop would pay my way
And I would come home forever
One more dime to show for my day
One more dollar and I'm on my way
When I reach those hills, boys
I'll never roam
One more dollar and I'm going home
No work said the boss at the bunk house door
There's a freeze on the branches
So when the dice came out at the bar downtown
I rolled and I took my chances
One more dime to show for my day
One more dollar and I'm on my way
When I reach those hills, boys
I'll never roam
One more dollar and I'm going home
A long time ago I left my home
Just a boy passing twenty
Could you spare a coin and a Christian prayer
For my luck has turned against me
One more dime to show for my day
One more dollar and I'm on my way
When I reach those hills, boys
I'll never roam
One more dollar and I'm going home
Wonderful stuff. See how the lyric pulls us in with its sense-bound imagery, turning us into participants rather than observers? Her words are full of our stuff. And look at the lyrics using the box structure. Watch how the chorus gains weight, transforming the meaning of the chorus each time:
Each verse moves the story forward, making chances of getting home more and more remote. Great stuff!
Let's take a look at one last example, this one with a challenge in it. In this lyric, “Unanswered Prayers” written by Pat Alger, Garth Brooks, and Larry B. Bastian, the first two verses work to set up a clear situation:
Just the other night at a hometown football game
My wife and I ran into my old high school flame
And as I introduced them the past came back to me
And I couldn't help but think of the way things used to be
She was the one that I'd wanted for all times
And each night I'd spend prayin' that God would make her mine
And if he'd only grant me that wish I'd wished back then
I'd never ask for anything again
Now comes the punch line:
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers
With all the information we have so far, it's a little difficult to see how to develop the story much further. Here's verse three:
She wasn't quite the angel that I remembered in my dreams
And I could tell that time had changed me in her eyes too it seemed
We tried to talk about the old days, there wasn't much we
could recall
I guess the Lord knows what he's doin' after all
Now follow it with the chorus:
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers
Is there anything gained? Not much. The boxes are roughly the same size. We already knew, from the combination of the first two verses and the chorus, how thankful he was not to be with his ol
d girlfriend. This verse just elaborates on the same theme, giving us a few more details, including the old girlfriend's attitude. And the final line, I guess the Lord knows what he's doin' after all, just repeats the idea just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care.
In short, the second chorus is destined to die an ignominious death right there in front of everybody. Now the song moves into a bridge, followed by a third chorus:
And as she walked away I looked at my wife
And then and there I thanked the good Lord for the gifts in my life
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers
Much better. I had forgotten about the wife. The third chorus is interesting again; it gains weight by adding the wife. Go back and read the bridge followed by the whole chorus.
The wife becomes God's greatest gift. A lovely payoff.
Two out of three choruses work great, but the song sags at the second chorus. There isn't enough new information in verse three to make the chorus interesting. Other than leaving it alone as good enough (two out of three ain't bad …), what would you do?
One possibility might be to reintroduce the wife in verse three and skip the bridge entirely, like this:
She wasn't quite the angel that I remembered in my dreams
And I could tell that time had changed me in her eyes too it seemed
As she turned and walked away I looked at my wife
And recognized the gift I'd been given in my life
Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers
Now the song is a simple three verse, two chorus layout with both choruses doing their work. Read the entire lyric and watch how each chorus changes:
Just the other night at a hometown football game
My wife and I ran into my old high school flame
And as I introduced them the past came back to me