Kavalier Calm's Crowdsource Inspiration

Hi. I'm Kavalier Calm. I write songs and poems inspired by the people I meet on the internet. Ask, and I’ll write something for you. Really.
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  • Here is a response to the question that went unanswered. I came up with the concept for this song after repeatedly reading the question. I started to wonder why I asked about the first kiss, rather than the last kiss. Then, I realized in some very unfortunate situations, the first and last kiss are one in the same. I penned some of the verses randomly for a few days. I sat down with the guitar at 4 pm yesterday and had this song recorded by 4:45.

         First/last kiss

    The good thing about whisky
    is you only remember the fun.
    The bad thing about whisky
    is you only remember the fun.
    And I don’t remember your name, darlin,
    or where you said you were from.
    And I wish I could get you out of my head
    cause I’ll never see you again.

    But that first kiss
    had everything a man could wish for.
    Your breath was sweet
    and warm in my mouth.
    I only wish I’d known
    that that first kiss would be our last.

    Now my friends say you are a ghost—
    that I left alone.
    But I know my imagination ain’t good enough
    to have made you up.
    And, darlin, I can’t remember your name
    or where you said you were from.
    And I wish I could forget you
    cause I’ll never see you again.

    But that first kiss
    had everything a man could wish for.
    Your breath was sweet
    and warm in my mouth.
    I only wish I’d known
    that that first kiss would be our last.

    How would you describe a cruel lover?

    The other night I was tapping my finger and started singing:

    Well, I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )
    You’re mean to my mother, and you’re worse with my friends.
    I could never love a woman as cruel as you.

    Well, you say such awful things to wilt my pride.
    You say such awful things to make me feel dead inside.
    I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )

    Parameters: How would you describe a cruel lover? Give me a line or two. The lyric can be simple—in fact, should be. This recording will be very bluesy/jazzy. I may not even have my guitar.

    Expected response time: Sunday night.

    Finally got this recorded. Again, no response, but I made up the rest. Time to move on. I really liked the way this turned out; it has so much room to grow. It sounded very different every time I tried recording it. I can imagine a muted trumpet crying in the background or some harmony with a female vocalist, especially on the final verse.

    Well, I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )
    You’re mean to my mother, and you’re worse with my friends.
    I could never love a woman as cruel as you.

    Well, you say such awful things to wilt my pride.
    You say such awful things to make me feel dead inside.
    I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 2 )

    You got poison in those veins, and you beg me to drink;
    You got ice in that heart, and you want me to freeze.
    I could never love a woman as cruel as you. ( X 3 )

    First, I made a list of what I would miss most if I became deaf or blind. Then, I remembered the phrase dumb, deaf, and blind. Made the “and” an “or,” imagined I had a choice between the three, and created a song debating the options. Enjoy!

         Dumb, deaf, or blind

    If I was struck with a curse to be
    dumb, deaf, or blind.
    I’d choose to be dumb
    and have a damn good time.

    Cause the blind never see the autumn leaves.
    They can’t see it coming, whatever it is.
    No playing catch with their brothers in the yard.
    They can’t see a woman’s hair bounce in the wind.

    CHORUS

    The deaf, they never hear any laughs or cries.
    They don’t have baseball on the radio to help pass the time.
    And I would never trade my lady’s heavy moan—
    the sound she makes when I do something just right.

    CHORUS

    The blind never see the flush in people’s cheeks
    or their rolling eyes.
    The deaf don’t get the Star Spangled Banner
    or the cannon fire.
    The dumb drink all they want
    and holler when a girl is fine.
    They ain’t got much upstairs,
    but they still have their ears and eyes.

    CHORUS

         Little fox

    Oh, I bet you think you are pretty
    sly, my little fox.
    Slinking out the den at night
    silent as a knife.

    Oh, where do you go my little fox?
    I’ll find that den and smoke you out.
    That other man is gonna pay with fire
    for breaking up my house.

    What am I supposed to think
    when the bed sheets are cold?
    Ever morning I wake up
    with no one to hold.

    Oh, where do you go my little fox?
    I’ll find that den and smoke you out.
    That other man is gonna pay with fire
    for breaking up my house.

    Oh, little fox,
    I was good to you.
    Oh, little fox,
    you cheat.
    You ain’t welcome back no more—
    see how sly you are without me!

    I’ve done it again. Searched the tag “question” and found this post from sashdaley:

    SEX IS NOT THE ANSWER

    sex is the question. Yes is the answer

    Thanks for the inspiration.

         Q & A Blues

    Life is too short to walk around
    all confused and lonesome.
    There’s too much to learn
    to stay in the dark.

    Darlin’, your body’s got a question,
    and mine’s got an answer.
    Just go ahead and ask,
    and I’ll give you all my advice.

    In this instance,
    ignorance is not bliss.
    But I can promise you,
    soon enough you’ll know what bliss is.

    CHORUS

    In this you can be my pupil,
    and I’ll be your professor.
    Just put your sweet apple on my desk,
    and I’ll make sure you pass.

    CHORUS

    Thanks to icameisawicame for an answer to my last question:

    yes.he cheated on me at the festival,with some country bumpkin

    Now, inspiration is a coy friend. I’m not sure why, but when I read “festival” and “country bumpkin” together, I instantly started thinking a state fair. And then my mind jumped to that game where you swing the sledgehammer; turns out that attraction is called a high striker. I followed my wandering thoughts; the metaphor of a hammer and a bell were too good to resist. In a future recording, I’ll probably add a bell sound at the end. My listeners should notice, though, that I added a baseline to this song and the solo doubles in stereo through both ears (yes, listen with headphones). Not bad considering I only had two hours. Enjoy!

         High striker

    I haven’t seen you in years,
    since that date at the state fair,
    when I lost you in a strongman competition
    for your hand.
    I paid a quarter to try the high striker,
    and swung the hammer just for fun.
    The next man who paid his quarter
    swung to strike the bell.

    And when it rang, baby,
    you fell under his spell.

    When you walked by me
    the other day.
    I noticed you
    noticing me.
    Well, I ain’t a boy anymore:
    my hands are big and scarred.

    As big and scarred
    as my heart.

    Now, though I learned to be strong,
    I didn’t learn to be cruel,
    and I know you remember
    how good I was to you.
    So let’s imagine we’re back at that fair,
    and I’ve got a hammer, and you’ve got a bell.

    Yeah, high striker,
    why don’t you let me ring that bell?

    Tonight’s inspiration comes via a direct question from holycrapacupcake:

    What happens when you feel trapped in all of your friendships? Like you would rather sit in the dark, alone, than be talking to someone or anyone for that matter, just because you can’t trust what they say - how does that make sense?

    This was the first time I wrote from a direct question. It’s inherently more difficult to respond to a single question than it is to read hundreds of posts and just respond to one that piques my interest. I could do it, though, because I understood the dilemma at the heart of the question. Song’s short and in the future will have more guitar/vocal tracks. I had to create a SoundCloud account because I write more than one song a day, and Tumblr tries to restrict my productivity! Enjoy!

         Better off alone

    People don’t have to be liars
    to never speak the truth.
    You and yours and all your noise
    is giving me the blues.
    Sometimes you got friends all around you,
    but nothing they say fills your soul.

    The blues is knowing
    you’re better off alone.

    We all say we care about each others’ pain,
    and all this pretending is good and fine.
    But sometimes you need a quiet place,
    somewhere dark to rest your mind.
    One of these days I’m going to lock my door
    and disconnect my phone.

    The blues is knowing
    you’re better off alone.

    Today’s inspiration comes from an entire blog I stumbled upon: weliveforjelly-tots. It’s full of beautiful images, many of insightful graffiti. One such post showed the words “wake up and live” in black ink. I ran with it. I bought myself a used Tascam DP-01fx (a digital 8-track); I am clearly still figuring all the features out. Unfortunately, when I master the song, it sounds great with the headphones plugged right into the machine, but when it transfers to the computer there is some quality loss. Still, I’m pretty pleased by this considering I got the machine in the mail yesterday. I recommend listening with headphones. The average laptop speakers will not relay the heavy distortion very well. Enjoy!

         Wake up and live

    It’s never too late
    to find yourself.
    You just got to accept
    you need to be found.

    Wake up and live

    Goin’ through the motions,
    but you might as well be dead.
    Darlin’, why don’t you let me
    get inside your head?

    Wake up and live
    Wake up and live

    You live so careful,
    you’re afraid to breathe.
    Take a chance on life,
    take a chance on me;
    you know, you’ve got
    to gamble to win.

    Wake up and live.

    Tonight’s inspiration is an entire blog: simplybek. I first fell into Bekah’s mind months ago; in fact, hers was the first Tumblr page I really enjoyed. This post is dedicated to Bekah, for her unique style and for sharing beautiful pictures and music. I wrote this song some time ago, but I didn’t get it recorded until today. I’m slowly accepting the limitations of my new Tascam; I asked it to do too much with the last few recordings. The built-in effects are too dirty to be of much value, so with this recording I went back to my minimalistic roots, and just let the grunge come in for the solo. It’s a learning process. Enjoy the tune!

         The kind of trouble I like to get into

    Long days lead to longer nights
    Hours pass in another lonely life.
    And baby, if I’m gonna make it worth a damn,
    I need to make it with you.

    Darlin’, you’re the kind of trouble
    A man could get into.

    Some say, Eli, you’ve got it all.
    A car, a nice home, a steady job.
    But where’s the thrill, I’m feeling chill,
    I need a fever, a lovin’ flu.

    Baby, you’re the kind of trouble
    A man could get into.

    (Let me get into you.)

    Don’t complicate it, darling
    It’s a simple thing.
    You’re on the ground,
    And I could give you wings.
    And up in the air,
    Darlin’, I know we won’t be so blue.

    Baby, you’re the kind of trouble
    I’d like to get into. X 2

    This song concept was bouncing around in my head for days, and I finally sat down to bleed it out. I realized recently that the majority of songs that the crowd (meaning all of you bloggers) inspires me to write are about loneliness or hunger (in all senses of the word). I am considering releasing digital albums of sets of the songs written for this blog, and this may be the title track for the first such album. I wanted to devote this posting to someone who seems to get the song’s message. I started searching by the tag lonely, and what I read was too gray to mirror the music. Then I realized my tune is actually hopeful. The speaker believes in the power of his voice/music/energy to travel faster than his feet to find his lost lover. So this is a song for a hopeful, loving blogger, like: natalieeelovesyou. And all you lonely bloggers I stumbled upon first—I recommend wallowing in the positive vibe on her blog for awhile.


         Lonely and hungry for you

    I waited for you to come home—
    years I waited, all alone.
    When you didn’t come back, I packed a bag
    and started walking down the road.

    I didn’t know where you’d gone,
    so I wrote this song, just so you’d know:
    I’m lonely and hungry for you,
    so lonely and hungry for you.

    My feet have have covered many miles,
    but there are many miles left to go.
    I’m gonna use the radio to find you—
    'cause sound travels faster than me.

    I don’t know where you’ve gone,
    so I wrote this song, just so you’ll know:
    CHORUS

    Strangers warn me you may be dead,
    but you can’t be—I haven’t found you yet.
    I don’t know where you’re hiding,
    but I’ll seek ‘til my days are long.

    I don’t know where you’ve gone,
    so I wrote this song, just so you’ll know:
    CHORUS

    Tonight’s song is about a gypsy, and I devote it to two neo-Bohemian bloggers: bohemian-tea-party and givemeaburger. Both blogs host images of natural beauty that a minimalist like me can’t get enough of. Thanks for the inspiration, ladies, and enjoy the tune!  

         Hadnot Creek

    In the heart of Carolina runs Hadnot Creek,
    home to the Bog Bride:
    half-Southern, half-Gypsy.
    She’ll lure you in with the smells of her cookin’
    and keep you in the girth of her hips.

    By the cool waters of Hadnot Creek
    lips are moving, but they do not speak.
    Don’t accept her charity;
    the hearts of good men is what she seeks.

    They say she’ll dance
    ‘til your eyes blur and close.
    They say she’ll sing
    ‘til your ears become your toes.
    Crawlin’ across the floor,
    crawlin’ into her arms.
    You’ll be found dead and naked
    by the end of the week
    in the muddy bend of Hadnot Creek.

    CHORUS

    The Bog Bride’ll end your marriage
    by takin’ life.
    But some of these boys’d rather die by her pleasure
    than stay with their wives.
    But if your love is true and lasting
    pinch your nose and whistle this tune
    as you walk the waters of Hadnot Creek
    where the Bog Bride croons, looms, rooms…

    CHORUS

    This post is for Eleni over at jackmegwhite, who writes: “I love Music, Jack White and Whiskey.” Those are three of my favorite things, too, so I’ll imagine she’s my girl behind the bar. In this narrative blues tune, I twist and make new the story of Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil to learn to play the guitar; instead, the speaker in my song sells his soul to Jesus in exchange for a woman’s love. Enjoy!

         For the girl behind the bar

    Well, I was in Mississippi,
    and I went into a bar.
    I yelled, “‘Tender give me a whiskey,”
    as I took a seat.

    To my sweet surprise,
    a pretty little thing brought me my drink.
    And I said, “Hey, baby,
    why don’t you take a seat?”
    But she laughed as she walked away.

    So I took my shot
    and went up to the bar.
    And I said, “Hey, baby,
    what’s it gonna take?”

    She said, “Are you a God fearing man?”
    I thought, I could be if that’s what it takes
    to get in your pants.
    But I just grinned and said, “Baby,
    I ain’t afraid of nothing.”
    She said, “If I was yours,
    you’d be afraid to lose me.
    And a jealous man
    is the one who beats.”

    With that she turned away,
    And for the first time in my life I prayed.
    "Lord, lord, what will it take?"

    You know they say Robert sold his soul to the devil
    just to learn to play guitar.
    Well, I sold my soul to Jesus
    for the girl behind the bar. X2

    Oh, Devil, I miss you
    and all of your sweet sin.
    But I’d trade it all in
    to be in a Kingdom with her
    that never ends.

    Tonight’s inspiration comes from Leah at runawaywithmetoneverland. I like her taste in music, and she posts images full of the youthful energy I tap into every time I sit down with my guitar. I definitely want to be a candle that burns twice as bright, even if it means burning half as long. This song deserves a band, especially a drummer; I can imagine what it would sound like in an alternate, cooler universe. Enjoy!

         Hot blooded blues

    Hey sweet lady, listen here:
    I wanna be with you,
    not far but near.
    Let’s go down to the lake,
    just you and me.
    Don’t worry, darlin’,
    this secret I’ll keep.

    Well, I’m hot blooded,
    but you’re treating me cold.
    Darlin’, what do you want?
    'Cause I can get it;
    I’ll kill if I have to.
    No man, machine, or beast
    will keep me from you.

    Don’t call me crazy
    for wanting you.
    You got every man with a mind
    turning blue.
    Others came before,
    but they were cold to the touch.
    Stop fighting darlin’.
    Hush, hush.

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