NSFW, contains swearing.

I wrote the following lyrics a few years ago. I imagined it as a piano piece, kind of ballard, kind of funky. Needless to say my inability to play the piano has lead to it never being recorded. About a year after writing it I heard another song, by a well established, but fringe, artist, and the two were basically identical in melody structure, particularly the chorus. So it sat, and sat, and I’ve never recorded it in any way. I thought it might be worthwhile sharing it here, who knows, one of you (if there are any of you) might play the piano, and could nut this one out with me.

Product of Circumstance

I’m standing on the edge of the precipice
Staring at the chasm down below.
My mind is made up of these deep regrets
But still I have to put on the show.

I know you’ve visually undressed me
So that you can stare at my breasts
I don’t care what it is you see
All there is nothing but a caricature

Fucked it up, I fucked it up again
Time for an explosion of penance
Crossed the line I crossed the line again
I’m a product of my circumstance.

It wouldn’t matter if I
Just played the same three chords
They would still love me in hordes
I’m nothing but their whore.

Endlessly devoted to promotion
The monster has eaten the idea
Swallowed whole and easily digested
In it’s place has grown alive the fear

Fucked it up, I fucked it up again
Time for an explosion of penance
Crossed the line I crossed the line again
I’m a product of my circumstance.

Is it getting harder to be innocent
Even my reflection tells me so.
I am taken in by the dirty tricks
Making me some kind of Despereaux

The stage is all I ever wanted to be
A part not a scene or a show
I long for the spotlight to become dim
Step back and watch the curtain close

Fucked it up, I fucked it up again
Time for an explosion of penance
Crossed the line I crossed the line again
I’m a product of my circumstance.