Week 24: That bag of skin you’re in

The idea for this one came from something I read on a sign at the anarchist bookshop down the road: “Behind your mask you’re me”. I turned it over in my head for a few days and realised it was a great idea for a song. I got the chorus first, but was struggling to find something interesting melodically for the verses – eventually after a frustrating afternoon trying to find something different and interesting, I decided to go for a walk on the mountain and on the way down the melody suddenly popped into my head. Enjoy.

24 That bag of skin you're in
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When I began I was so clean and pure
I never wondered what my life was for
I dreamed and ocean but I never dreamed a shore

But then a feeling came to rock my boat
I knew I had to work to stay afloat
And my reflection came rising like a ghost

That bag of skin you’re in does not define you
Behind these masks we wear you’re me and I’m you
The you you think you are is an illusion
The loneliness we feel is just confusion

I built a self I could shelter in
I drew a garden with my magic pen
I couldn’t see the way my thoughts had fenced me in

And soon my hiding place became a cage
And like an animal I felt my rage
And I withdrew inside the war I waged


And every now and then I feel the pain
Of losing things I worked so hard to gain
Those long-lost memories rise to greet the rain

And there’s a part of me that starts to sing
I cry the tears that forgiveness brings
For all the proud and foolish things I’ve been


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