From the recording THE MARIONETTE: This & That from Hither & Yon
This was the first song I wrote to accompany playwright, Bryant Turnage’s work. It was for a production of six, one-act plays written by Bryant called The Voices In Our Heads. I commandeered his title, because I too, suffer from a similar affliction. That, and it just seemed fitting. He may or may not have cried the first time he heard it. On opening night. In front of a full house. A moment of guilty pride for me. Sorry about that, Bryant.
Lyrics
The voices in our heads are never silent
The voices in our heads are never still
The voices in our heads are not compliant
With the choices we have bended to our will
The voices in our heads are those of tyrants
Of beggars, saints, and thieves, and pirate kings
Weaving tapestries with yarns spun through the ages
Seeking only to lend color to the keep
They find humor in the frailty of humanity
And horror in the depths of it’s descent
They prey upon our sanity and they ply our loves with lust
And they’ll fill our doubts with justified distrust
The voices in our heads are never silent
The voices in our heads grow ripe with words
And their recitations mingle where hopes and dreams reside
And get tangled up in prayers launched to the sky
The voices in our heads need no lighting
Because the voices in our heads see like the blind
With eyes that witness more than just a vision
Along a line that follows more than just the time
But the voices in our heads are rife with slander
The voices in our heads wield poisoned swords
And the voices in our heads will kneel to no one
And leave marks upon a soul like nails in boards
And they’re rebels without cause because they can be
Just aimless wanderings of a wandering mind
We ignore them at our peril. We must let them have the floor
Just let them speak their piece. Then show them to the door
The voices in our heads are never silent
They are screaming for a longing never filled
And they jolt us from our dreams in sleep’s defiance
To remind us of the fields we’ve yet to till
And these noises have an ever-present vibrance
They rattle like the bones of the un-dead
Dancing on their effervescent islands
And heard only as the voices in our heads
Music & Lyrics by David Greathouse
© 2013, Sourdough Music, ASCAP