by Pat Pattison
No way to stop it
Only a dot in space
Losing the human race
Try it with a verse using second person, past tense:
Exploding from the starting blocks
Again you set the pace
Though you were crowned by laurel wreaths
As thousands cheer you came to grief
There was no reprieve
Chorus
Losing the human race
Falling from heaven's grace
No way to stop it
Only a dot in space
Losing the human race
The same chorus works fine. You don't have to neutralize your refrain or chorus for every lyric, but when your verses change tense and POV, it's good to know how to get your repetitive section ready for the new colors. Stripping away tense and POV, is often the key to success.
EXERCISE 13
Neutralize the refrain I fell too hard. Don't read ahead until you're finished. You should have three versions, something like these: falling too hard, to fall too hard, and too hard a fall. Let your verses establish the tense and POV, and any of the three would work just fine. Here's a chorus to neutralize:
I'm ready for love
I search for the good stuff
I hope I can find enough
I'm ready for love
Have fun.
CHAPTER TEN
PERSPECTIVES
Whenever you put pen to paper, you must answer a few fundamental questions: Who is doing the talking? Is it you personally? Is it a character you're creating? What should that character's relationship to the audience be? A storyteller? A confessor? Something else?
You write for an instrument — a singer (maybe you) who faces the audience and delivers your words. The point of view you choose controls the relationship between the singer and the audience. It sets the context for your ideas.
You control this choice. You control the singer's role (and, therefore, your audience's relationship to the singer) by choosing between the four possible points of view: third-person narrative, second-person narrative, first-person narrative, and direct address.
Point of view controls our distance from the world of the song. Think of it as a movie camera, allowing the audience to look at the song's world from various distances, from long shots to close-ups. Roughly, it looks like this:
POINT OF VIEW: CAMERA ANGLES
Let's look at the three main points of view: third-person narrative, first-person narrative, and direct address. We'll deal with second-personnarrative separately in chapter twelve.
THIRD-PERSON NARRATIVE
In third-person narrative, the singer acts as a storyteller who simply directs the audience's attention to an objective world neither the singer nor the audience is a part of. They look together at a third thing, an objective, independent world. If you think in terms of film, this is the long-distance, panoramic view. We, the audience, are simply observing the song's world. We are not participants.
You can tell third person by its pronouns:
Singular
Plural
Subject:
he, she, it
they
Direct object:
him, her, it
them
Possessive adjective:
his, her, its
their
Possessive predicate:
his, hers, its
theirs
e.g. Possessive adjective: “That is her responsibility.”
Possessive predicate: “The responsibility is hers.”
In third-person narrative, both the singer and the audience turn together to look at the song's world. The singer functions as storyteller or narrator, and the audience observes. Take a look at Buck Ram's “The Great Pretender,” in third-person narrative:
Yes, she's the great pretender
Pretending that she's doing well
Her need is such, she pretends too much
She's lonely but no one can tell
Yes, she's the great pretender
Adrift in a world of her own
She plays the game, but to her real shame
He's left her to dream all alone
Too real is her feeling of make-believe
Too real when she feels what her heart can't conceal
Yes, she's the great pretender
Just laughing and gay like a clown
She seems to be what she's not, you see
She's wearing her heart like a crown
Pretending that he's still around
Imagine watching a singer perform the song. Either gender could sing it, no problem. As an audience, we would look at the pretender along with the singer. Neither we nor the singer participates in the world. Here's another example of third-person narrative:
Sentimental Lady
The sidewalk runs from late day rainfall
Washes scraps of paper up against the grate
Backing up in shallow puddles
Oil floats like dirty rainbows
She hardly seems to notice as she steps across the street
Knows where she's headed for
She goes inside
Shuts the door
Chorus
Sentimental lady
Doesn't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't seem to matter when it ends
Sentimental lady
Sips her tea in perfect safety
Smiles her secret smile and pretends
Polished floors of blonde and amber
Hanging ivies lace her windows smooth and green
Soft inside these graceful patterns
Lost in thought she reads his letters
All that matters kept inside in memories and dreams
Knows where she has to be
Tucked away
Alone and free
Chorus
Sentimental lady
Doesn't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't seem to matter when it ends
Sentimental lady
Sips her tea in perfect safety
Smiles her secret smile and pretends
She made her mind up long ago
Not to look again
Her life was full
She sits content
Knows she's had its best
Chorus
Sentimental lady
Doesn't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't seem to matter when it ends
Sentimental lady
Sips her tea in perfect safety
Smiles her secret smile and pretends
FIRST-PERSON
A first-person narrative is also a storytelling mode, but instead of being separate from the action, the singer participates. There is some intimacy here. The audience knows something about the singer, who speaks directly to the audience about other people and events. The other people and events are still at a distance from the audience.
Here are the first-person pronouns:
Singular
Plural
Subject:
I
We
Direct object:
me
us
Possessive adjective:
my
owr
Possessive predicate:
mine
ours
In a first-person narrative, the first-person pronouns mix with third-person pronouns. There is no you.
The Great Pretender
Oh yes, I'm the great pretender
Pretending that I'm doing well
My need is such, I pretend too much
I'm lonely but no one can tell
Yes, I'm the great pretender
Adrift in a world of my own
I play the game, but to my real shame
He's (or she's) left me to dream all alone
Too real is this feeling of make-believe
Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal
Yes, I'm the great pretender
Jus
t laughing and gay like a clown
I seem to be what I'm not, you see
I'm wearing my heart like a crown
Pretending that he's (or she's) still around
We, the audience, have some level of intimacy with the singer, but we are still observers to the rest of the song's world. The singer is a participant, revealing something about himself or herself, so the gender of the singer and the pronouns will now make a difference. In film terms, this is the middle-distance shot. Look at this:
Digging for the Line
My daddy loved the greyhounds
Oh he lived to watch 'em run
Breathless as they slow danced past
Like bullets from a gun
Muscles wound like springs of steel
Aching to unwind
Caught up in their rhythm
Daddy swayed in perfect time
Even when the chains of age
Left him weak and blind
He still could feel their rhythm
Digging for the line
Even as a child I knew
The greyhounds never won
Though one of them might finish first
It wasn't why they'd run
Sliding on a rail of steel
A rabbit made of clay
Stayed up just ahead of them
Led the dancers all the way
Circle after circle
Panting just behind
They ran with grace and beauty
Digging for the line
It hurt to see them run
A race they'd never win
But daddy smiled and made me see
This is what he said to me
A greyhound lives for running
It's the strongest drive he has
And though he never wins the race
The losing's not so bad
If he never ran at all
In time he'd surely die
The only world he cares to know
Is one that's always streaking by
It isn't what runs up ahead
It isn't what's behind
The beauty's in the way it feels
Digging for the line
The narrator tells the story, but includes him/herself in it. In the last verse, daddy is quoted by the narrator while we are allowed to eavesdrop.
First-Person Narrative
Let's see what happens when we change “Sentimental Lady” into first-person narrative:
The sidewalk runs from late day rainfall
Washes scraps of paper up against the grate
Backing up in shallow puddles
Oil floats like dirty rainbows
I hardly seem to notice as I step across the street
I know where I'm headed for
I go inside
I shut the door
Chorus
Sentimental lady
I don't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't seem to matter when it ends
Sentimental lady
I sip my tea in perfect safety
Smile my secret smile and pretend
This sounds odd. She's saying external or descriptive things about herself, like “I hardly seem to notice as I step across the street.” Observations like this are best left to a third-person narrator.
Polished floors of blonde and amber
Hanging ivies lace my windows smooth and green
Soft inside these graceful patterns
Lost in thought I read his letters
All that matters kept inside in memories and dreams
Know where I have to be
Tucked away
Alone and free
Chorus
Sentimental lady
I don't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't seem to matter when it ends
Sentimental lady
I sip my tea in perfect safety
Smile my secret smile and pretend
Again it sounds unnatural for her to say, “Lost in thought I read his letters.” The language is more appropriate from the mouth of an observer than from the mouth of a participant. Finally, the bridge:
I made my mind up long ago
Not to look again
My life was full
I'll sit content
Knowing I've had its best
Chorus
Sentimental lady
I don't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't seem to matter when it ends
Sentimental lady
I sip my tea in perfect safety
Smile my secret smile and pretend
The bridge sounds natural in first person, since she's telling us something about herself we couldn't know from simply looking. Of course, looking into a character's mind is also perfectly appropriate in third-person narrative.
If we really were to make sense of “Sentimental Lady” as a first-person narrative, the perspective would have to shift in several places:
The sidewalk runs from late day rainfall
Washes scraps of paper up against the grate
Backing up in shallow puddles
Oil floats like dirty rainbows
Splashed by cooling raindrops as I step across the street
I know what I'm headed for
Slip inside
Shut the door
Chorus
I'm a sentimental lady
I don't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't really matter when it ends
A sentimental lady
Sipping tea in perfect safety
Tucked away in secret with a friend
I love these floors of blonde and amber
Hanging ivies lace my windows smooth and green
I live inside these graceful patterns
Afternoons I read his letters
All that matters here inside my memories and dreams
I know where I need to be
Tucked away
Alone and free
Chorus
I'm a sentimental lady
I don't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't really matter when it ends
A sentimental lady
Sipping tea in perfect safety
Tucked away in secret with a friend
I made my mind up long ago
Not to look again
My life was full
I sit content
Knowing I've had its best
Chorus
I'm a sentimental lady
I don't mind it when it's raining
Doesn't really matter when it ends
A sentimental lady
Sipping tea in perfect safety
Tucked away in secret with a friend
Okay, so the rewrite could be more elegant. The point is that it works better. The trick is to put yourself in her mind — look from her perspective, and say what comes naturally.
Back to Third-Person Narrative
As a further exercise, go back and try changing “Digging for the Line” into a third-person narrative. It's an interesting problem, isn't it? First there's the pronoun problem: you have to make daddy's child she to keep the hes from getting all jumbled together. Instead of:
His daddy loved the greyhounds
Oh he(?) lived to watch 'em run
You have to say:
Her daddy loved the greyhounds
Oh he lived to watch 'em run
Even with that problem solved, you end up with a story about a father telling a story to his daughter. Seems a little complicated:
Her daddy loved the greyhounds
Oh he lived to watch 'em run
Breathless as they slow danced past
Like bullets from a gun
Muscles wound like springs of steel
Aching to unwind
Caught up in their rhythm
He swayed in perfect time
Even when the chains of age
Left him weak and blind
He still could feel their rhythm
Digging for the line
Even as a child she knew
The greyhounds never won
Though one of them might finish first
It wasn't why they'd run
Sliding on a rail of steel
A rabbit made of clay
Stayed up just ahead of them
Led the dancers all the way
Circle after circle
Panting just behind
They ran with grace and beauty
Digging for the line
It hurt to see them run
A race they'd never win
But her daddy smiled and made her see
What it really means
He said, a greyhound lives for running
It's the strongest drive he has
And though he never wins the race
The losing's not so bad
If he never ran at all
In time he'd surely die
The only world he cares to know
Is one that's always streaking by
It isn't what runs up ahead
It isn't what's behind
The beauty's in the way it feels
Digging for the line
Daddy told me this story is an acceptable premise for a song, but here's a story about someone telling a story seems more remote. The playwright Henrik Ibsen said, “If you put a gun in Act I, it damn well better go off by the end of the play!” This is more than a principle about effective use of props. It says that you should have a reason for each element in your work. Nothing without its purpose. No duplication of function.
Maybe the daughter is a gun that isn't going off. Let's see what happens if we eliminate her altogether:
Edwin loved the greyhounds
He lived to watch 'em run
Breathless as they slow danced past
Like bullets from a gun
Muscles wound like springs of steel
Aching to unwind
Caught up in their rhythm
He swayed in perfect time
Even when the chains of age
Left him weak and blind
He still could feel their rhythm
Digging for the line
Even as a child he knew
The greyhounds never won
Though one of them might finish first
It wasn't why they ran