Pat Pattison

This song came to me at a workshop in Austin. It was written by Sue Young, who I knew from previous Austin seminars, a good writer, and Rusty Nelson, a pro writer who’d emigrated to Austin after a chunk of time writing in Nashville. I had high expectations (as I usually do with Austin writers), and wasn’t disappointed. As Rusty began singing, I was immediately taken in by its simplicity and directness, the gospel or blues strategy of using repeated lines to reinforce the emotion: statement, re-statement, variation, return. The kind that is immediately memorable and singable.

Listen:

You Draw Me In
Rusty Nelson/Sue Young

I feel joy knowing that you’re here
I feel joy knowing that you’re here
Why it is ain’t exactly clear
I feel joy knowing that you’re here

You know my thoughts, before I say a word
You know my thoughts, before I say a word
Nothing said, everything heard
You know my thoughts, before I say a word

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

I am the leaf and you’re the vine
I am the leaf and you’re the vine
Together we can make some mighty fine wine
I am the leaf and you’re the vine

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
You overcome the darkness, time after time
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

Pretty neat, huh?

I was hooked by the first two verses and this lovely section:

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

I love the repetition of the title and the extension of the third line, with its surprising statement.

to the better side of me

Then came:

I am the leaf and you’re the vine
I am the leaf and you’re the vine
Together we can make some mighty fine wine
I am the leaf and you’re the vine

Following,

I felt like we’d entered a different song. We’d moved from direct, conversational language to metaphor. Not that I have anything against metaphor, but here it seemed out of place to think of leaves and vines in symbiotic relationship, creating grapes that lead to (after some good stomping by the local peasants) a fine wine. The metaphor didn’t “answer” or build from

You draw me in to the better side of me,

There’s not much separation between better side and unbetter side with leaves and vines. Of course, leaves draw sustenance from the vine, but, on the other hand, they feed the vine through photosynthesis. The verse seemed to be a non-sequiter. The real problem, however, came with the repetition, after the leaf/vine verse, of

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

I had a bit of trouble seeing this section through the lens of vegetation, and it lost impact. Because it was presented as a chorus, it has the usual chorus responsibility of gaining weight – creating a larger impact each time we hear it. For me, air started leaking out of the song’s tires, and it lost forward momentum. I immediately started casting around for a solution, but had to return to the song as Rusty sang:

Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
You overcome the darkness, time after time
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines

I like the writing and the metaphor here, seeing the sunlight erasing shadows and streaming through the cedars, birdsong orchestrating the dance between light and dark, Sorta drifted into the scene, got pulled in, as good writing tends to do. But then,

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

canceled the moment. I had no way of connecting this lovely verse with the chorus, which, accordingly, lost even more weight. I found the first chorus riveting, the second less riveting, and watched the rivets pop out as the building collapsed in the third chorus.

Sad.

Then it was my turn to talk to Rusty and Sue about the song…

Is this really a chorus?

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

Could be, but in a different song, not here. A great chorus should accomplish several things:

1. It should be memorable. (This one is, a tribute to its simplicity.)
2. It should be singable. (This one is, again, a tribute to its simplicity.)
3. It should be an interesting summation of or comment on the verse ideas. (This one is, the first time, and isn’t the second or third time.)
4. It should be more interesting (gain weight) each time we hear it. (No dice here in the second and third chorus.)

Two out of four. Repetition bring its own responsibility – there should be a deeper meaning each time we hear a repeated section, whether it be a chorus or a verse. In this song,

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

works only once. Ok then, which parts of a song, once they say their piece, have done their work and now it’s time to pass the baton? Right. Verses. And bridges. Say it once, you’re done. Move on.

I thought we could try treating our “chorus” as a bridge? The song would start the same:

I feel joy knowing that you’re here
I feel joy knowing that you’re here
Why it is ain’t exactly clear
I feel joy knowing that you’re here

You know my thoughts, before I say a word
You know my thoughts, before I say a word
Nothing said, everything heard
You know my thoughts, before I say a word

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

But if it is a bridge, what’s it a bridge to? What’s next? Well, probably to a third verse. The result would be a traditional AABA song. Of course, in an AABA song, the last verse (the third box -- see chapter 6, 2nd Edition of Writing Better Lyrics) should be the biggest box, create the most weight, the most impact. Maybe we could recruit one of the two metaphorical verses as the last verse, since they wouldn’t have to lead to a chorus. I quickly tried both in my head:

I feel joy knowing that you’re here
I feel joy knowing that you’re here
Why it is ain’t exactly clear
I feel joy knowing that you’re here

You know my thoughts, before I say a word
You know my thoughts, before I say a word
Nothing said, everything heard
You know my thoughts, before I say a word

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

I am the leaf and you’re the vine
I am the leaf and you’re the vine
Together we can make some mighty fine wine
I am the leaf and you’re the vine

Hmmm. That didn’t do it for me. It still steps out of the song, both in level of discourse (conversational vs. metaphorical), and it doesn’t tie up the ideas in a neat emotional package. How about the other, and more interesting verse, the one with the better metaphor?

I feel joy knowing that you’re here
I feel joy knowing that you’re here
Why it is ain’t exactly clear I feel joy knowing that you’re here

You know my thoughts, before I say a word
You know my thoughts, before I say a word
Nothing said, everything heard
You know my thoughts, before I say a word

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
You overcome the darkness, time after time
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines

This is better, but “better” seems more a product of the lovely metaphor than its relationship to what came before. There’s still not a sense of “Yes, that’s where I needed to go to resolve the idea, the conversation. It doesn’t sum up the song – make a final statement, like this final verse from Irving Berlin does:

What'll I Do
Irving Berlin

What'll I do
When you are far away
And I am blue
What'll I do?

What'll I do?
When I am wond'ring who
Is kissing you
What'll I do?

What'll I do with just a photograph
To tell my troubles to?

When I'm alone
With only dreams of you
That won't come true
What'll I do?

There’s finality in Irving Berlin’s closing verse, and it breaks your heart.

This, as a final verse,

Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines
You overcome the darkness, time after time
Like the morning light, streaming through the pines

doesn’t.

So if we’re going to create an AABA here, we need a final verse that really steps up and delivers. Is it back to the drawing board, looking for that elusive final verse idea? Probably, I thought.

But remember what I said about sections that say their piece and pass the baton? “Verses and bridges,” I said. Verses? Well, not always. Remember Joni Mitchell’s “Roses Blue?”

Listen to: Roses Blue

I think of tears, I think of rain on shingles
I think of rain, I think of roses blue
I think of Rose, my heart begins to tremble
To see the place she's lately gotten to
Gotten to, gotten to

She's gotten to mysterious devotions
She's gotten to the zodiac and Zen
She's gotten into tarot cards and potions
She's laying her religion on her friends
On her friends, on her friends

Friends who come to ask her for their future
Friends who come to find they can't be friends
Because of signs and seasons that don't suit her
She'll prophesy your death, she won't say when
Won't say when, won't say when

When all the black cards come you cannot barter
No, when all your stars are stacked you cannot win
She'll shake her head and treat you like a martyr 
It is her blackest spell she puts you in 
Puts you in, puts you in

In sorrow she can lure you where she wants you
Inside your own self-pity there you swim
In sinking down to drown her voice still haunts you
And only with your laughter can you win
Can you win, can you win

You win the lasting laurels with your laughter
It reaches like an arm before you sink
To win the solitary truth you're after
You dare not ask the priestess how to think
How to think, how to think

I think of tears, I think of rain on shingles
I think of rain, I think of roses blue
I think of Rose, my heart begins to tremble
To see the place she's lately gotten to
Gotten to, gotten to

See how the repetition of the first verse at the end transforms its meaning. After the intervening information, where we discover that Rose, the fortune teller, has the singer in her power, we now know who Rose is, and the last lines admit that the singer is hooked, Rose has gotten to her heart…

So a verse can be repeated, if it gains weight, if the intervening information gives us a new look at it. I had just finished writing a piece for my Lyric Tips page on Chanelle Davis’ lovely song “Valentine,” which repeats the first verse.

Listen:

I once had a Valentine
Someone to walk me home
And hear a little midnight saxophone
I got kisses in the night
From my Valentine

Used to drink my chardonnay
And smoke my cigarettes
We danced around the room just silhouettes
I sang Auld Lang Syne
For my Valentine

Love does funny things
And when it gives you wings
You're a fool for thinking you can fly

I once had a Valentine
Someone to walk me home
And hear a little midnight saxophone
I got kisses in the night From my Valentine

Worth a try, I thought. “Sing it down this way,” I said to Rusty.

Listen:

You Draw Me In
Rusty Nelson/Sue Young

I feel joy knowing that you’re here
I feel joy knowing that you’re here
Why it is ain’t exactly clear
I feel joy knowing that you’re here

You know my thoughts, before I say a word
You know my thoughts, before I say a word
Nothing said, everything heard
You know my thoughts, before I say a word

You draw me in
You draw me in
You draw me in to the better side of me

I feel joy knowing that you’re here
I feel joy knowing that you’re here
Why it is ain’t exactly clear
I feel joy knowing that you’re here

Now the breathtaking information in the line,

You draw me in to the better side of me

gives us a brand new look at:

I feel joy knowing that you’re here.

It’s especially interesting when we get to the line,

Why it is ain’t exactly clear

which now expresses awe at the magic she creates, letting him see what he can be when he’s at his best. Nice solution, repeating the first verse. Put it in your toolbox. Don’t do it if it doesn’t gain weight – make a final statement.

The key lies in monitoring your repetition: does it gain weight, no matter whether you’re repeating a chorus, a pre-chorus, a verse, or even a bridge? If not, try something else. If so, you’ve got something going on.

Try it. Have fun.

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