Sometimes words are just music themselves.
Like “Strawberry” is a very musical sounding word to me. “Dandelion” is another.
I like “Honeysuckle” and “Hurricane,” too. And “Hallelujah.”
Standing on the edge of the vowel forest, I also encounter:
A blossoming almond tree.
The thicket grown loud with nightingales.
Skin and heart. Bed. House. Heartbreak (and with it, the tentative hope for happiness).
And a cloud of starlings.
Sometimes I think that my main instrument is idiom, my voice is just a dialect, and my actual purpose as a songwriter is simply to report on the human heart in the most musical of observational terms.
To make the notes audible in the key of English.
