Whatever I write

Won’t necessarily make any sense

I wouldn’t lie to you

And I didn’t make it last week

For whatever reason

No one really noticed and I couldn’t explain

There wasn’t anyone else there to blame

Since then we travelled south and back

And had our little adventures

I found myself playing the second set at the

Wunderbar on the Beast Girl

Woke up to the voice inside my songs

It was a personal breakthrough that’d be impossible to explain

Suffice to say that I’ve learned to become closer into what I’m supposed to be

It’s supposed to make you cry this stuff or at least think in different ways

No good pissing around in the world of technicalities

The question of who wants to when

Playing the older songs can bring it on

Taken right back there

Years of honing the vocal inflection

I was breathless at the end of it and between songs

Of the new songs we only did Stole My Dreams whereas I’d wanted to do We Are Strangers

It’s easy to forget and not simple when you do

Getting back to where I was when I wrote these stories

A thing about songs is that they hang around

Even if they are not on the radio every five minutes or once in a blue moon

We take it very seriously as a band and that’s why we joke around

It’s unsaid and always there

The searching and the finding

But not like expected

You see I didn’t even know if I could make it this far –  to this gig

There have been health and mortality worries

Logistics too

At one stage there on stage I got a sort of double vision and couldn’t see the frets on my guitar

Couldn’t see the dots before my eyes

I had to bluff my way through Go To New York

To be surrounded by people looking out for me and all wanting the same thing

A great result

I could explain the trip better and why I failed to write last week’s Ghost story

Instead here are they lyrics of my song Go to New York

Go to New York

Stayed out last night with a needle in my heart

I was really frozen and I couldn’t reach the light

What would you do in my place?

Would you take the whole party on?

It’s a nice thought but I wouldn’t lose my fingers for it

Work it out for yourself

Don’t you wanna get out of yourself?

When it all broke out you had a different voice than that

You didn’t have to shout to get across your point

I didn’t have to listen I could think about something else

Now you’re trying to engage me and now I just shut off

Still I like to lean on soggy memories I cant escape myself so what’s the use

All I really want to know is everything

Go to New York might find another clue

Thawed out last night I just got on the plane and went

I was really swollen and I couldn’t be polite

What would you do in my place?

Would you sit the whole thing out?

It’s a nice thought but I wouldn’t lose my freedom for it

Work it out for yourself

Don’t you wanna get out of yourself?

Go to New York you might find somebody there

Go to New York while it’s still there

Go to New York you might find somebody there

Go to New York while it’s still there
The Ghost of Electricity – War Stories by Jon McLeary is a new initiative at Off The Tracks, a series of stories and reflections from painter, writer and musician Jon McLeary