>I write the songs


In my young life, I fancied myself a poet and wrote poems quite often. While I was living in Jamestown, NY, I befriended an elderly woman (Pat) who had many social struggles and health issues and, since I was unemployed and my boyfriend worked a lot, she and I would spend a lot of time together. She was a terrific pianist and I loved to sing, so it was not uncommon for us to spend mornings and afternoons performing in the privacy of her apartment or mine, singing the hours away.

At one point, when she discovered I liked to write, she suggested we collaborate on a song: I would write the lyrics, she would write the accompaniment. I wrote a poem, then asked her to write a simple tune in a key that I could sing easily in so I could perform it, and she did a great job. We used to sing it a lot together. She absolutely loved it and I got a kick out of singing a song I had co-written. That was sometime in 1992, almost 19 years ago and I have not thought of our song since.

Pat and I keep in touch via snail-mail letters a few times a year (she does not own a computer and is a true Luddite.) She is retired now but continues to play piano at retirement homes and hospitals. Recently, she enclosed in one of her letters, the lyrics to the song we had written together. I still remember every word and the tune we sang it to. Had I any piano skills at all and remembered the key we played it in or any of the chords, I MIGHT have subjected you to a video of me singing in. Fortunately for you, the best I can do is share the lyrics. I will admit: I changed part of one line because the original lyric was so horribly wrong I could not replicate it here.


I don’t want to change the world to fit my special needs
I don’t want to make you think like me
I just want to live my life the way that I see fit
I just want the freedom to be free

You talk about religion and the things that you’ve been taught
You talk as though you know what I’m about
And all this time my only crime is knowing who I am
And being proud to let this person out

How can my emotions be a reason for your hate
Love is something that we feel not something we create
There’s nothing wrong with who I love or what I’ve grown to be
And I accept you as you are please do the same for me

I hid the struggle, lived the lie, throughout those years of pain
Of trying to be someone who’s not me
Can’t we say we’re not the same and still respect each other
And live our lives and let each other be

Now I share my life and love with someone I hold dear
Someone who makes all my dreams come true
And now at last my life’s complete in spite of what you think
And together there is nothing we can’t do

How can my emotions be a reason for your hate
Love is something that we feel not something we create
There’s nothing wrong with who I love or what I’ve grown to be
And I accept you as you are please do the same for me

(No worries, I won’t quit my day job.)

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2 Responses to >I write the songs

  1. Nick says:

    >This speaks volumes of you Sean. What I love is how you have it woven in such a way, we have to look deep to hear your message. Such pain in this one, deep pain, angst, reflection… and love

  2. D@vid says:

    >Wow… that's excellent. It reminds me of a conversation I had with my mom when I was in my early twenties. Outed by a friend of mine, my parents said they were coming to Philadelphia to 'fix' me. I told them to forget it and I didn't talk to them for several years. When we resumed speaking, it was only about them… any time I would tell them anything about my big old gay life, she would hang up. I was dating someone special at the time and just wanted them to meet him, but they never did. My mom died shortly thereafter, and while I know she was proud of my business accomplishments, I would be held on the same level as my drug addict brother for being gay. I wish I had this poem to send to her at the time… it may have made a difference.Great poem… I bet you'd be really cute singing it too 🙂

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