Sylvia Plath and 14 Plain Street

Well, here is a first draft of a lyric titled 14 Plain Street. At this time it feels more like poetry than lyrics. I have a chorus section but the title shows up only twice, and six line stanzas...not typical of me. I have been reading Sylvia Plath's poetry, and listening to lectures/biographies about her all this summer. Actually I was obsessed for while. So needless to say this song has a dark tone and a denseness that will be trimmed as music is introduced. I"m mostly a "word first" writer. So I don't know if this song sucks yet. But, I thought it might be interesting to post a first draft and share the growth of the song with y'all. Incidentally, as I was learning about Sylvia Plath I couldn't help but see the behavioral resemblance to my daughter Elizabeth - incredible creative, moody, curious, INTENSE!!.
I sometimes say to her "Slow Down Sylvia" (title for another song). Let's just keep her away from any gas ovens.

14 Plain street's gone up in smoke
Saw the abandoned house blazing on the six o'clock news
someone burned down where I grew up

So I took a drive to the old neighborhood
Saw the black holes and boarded up windows
And a patch of blue sky where the roof was

A part of me wanted revenge
A part of me wanted to cry
The rest of me finally said goodbye

You see the arsonist never knew
Mom and Dads labor of love
Now to be demolished in a dumpster of debris

Dad poured the concrete Mom planted the flowers
They put up fences working after hours
So that home shined with pride and dignity

But now the back yards overgrown
where I buried every pet I owned
Looking like some jungle in Vietnam

Trash and flies and blackened shingles
Litter my mind of when I was little
Birthdays and bee stings-riding ramps like Knievel can

A part of me wanted revenge
A part of me wanted to cry
The rest of me finally said goodbye

I bet even the fire men held back tears
saying, "can't believe football Freddy been gone fourteen years"
As they flooded the living room where he died

Washing away Christmas mornings and new years eves
And all the colors ..sixty's seventy's eighty's ninety's
blend to an ash black river drained by the roadside

I found a smoke stained chimney brick for a family souvenir
A little proof -some evidence that we once lived here
Maybe a coffee table conversation piece

And they will tear down rebuild and replace
But my mind is where I find my home base
where I safely keep the memory of Fourteen Plain Street

A part of me forgave
A part of me cried
The rest of me finally said goodbye