Welcome to The Fugitive Muse!

I created this blog with a dual purpose in mind. Firstly: as a diary of the song-writing experience so that any budding songwriters out there might gain an insight into this unique creative process. I don't claim to be the best, but I hope at the very least a fellow musician will read it with a sense that they are not alone in thinking how frustrating songwriting can be sometimes!

Secondly, this blog is an attempt to pull myself out of the post-graduation funk that I imagine many of my peers are also wallowing in right now. When I was making my graduation film, Innocence (innocencefilm.blogspot.com), I found that having a blog motivated me enough to actually create things to put on it. In this case, music. Enjoy!

Sarah Coloso Gillespie
19 July 2011.

P.S. Some of my previous attempts can be found at www.myspace.com/sarahcoloso (apologies for the out-of-date information, my MySpace is officially broken).

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Great Expectations

None of my own stuff in this blog post - just one of the most beautifully crafted lyrics I think I've ever heard, and it's been inspiring me lately. It's called Great Expectations, by the band Elbow, and according to frontman Guy Garvey, is about "a wedding that took place on the bus." Some people have said that this is a wedding that takes place in his mind with a woman on the bus he has fallen in love with from afar, but I prefer to think it actually happened.
And if it rains all day
Call on you, I'll call on you
Like I used to

Slide down beside and wrap you in stories
Tailored entirely for you
I'll remind you

We exchanged a vow
I love you, I always will

A call girl with yesterday eyes
Was our witness and priest
Stockport supporters club kindly supplied us a choir
Your vow was your smile
As we move down the aisle
Of the last bus home
And this is where I go
Just when it rains

Blinking and stoned
Rain in your hair
You only smoke
'Cause it's something to share

Singing, bring on the night
To have and to hold
The sodium light turning silver to gold.

Spitfire thin and strung like a violin, I was
Yours was the face with a grace from a different age
But you were the sun in my Sunday morning
You were the sun in my Sunday morning

Telling me never to go
So I'll live on the smile
And move down the aisle
Of the last bus home

And if you're running late
This is where I'll go
Know I'll always wait


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