Scratch Away

Jazz-bossa at 144 BPM in D minor, rolling 6/8 and 3-step pulse with gentle Brazilian sway, sparse fingerpicked nylon guitar, soft upright bass, understated Rhodes, oud lead with Moroccan melodic turns, bendir, darbuka and hand percussion; warm slightly husky female contralto, close-miked conversational delivery with delicate breath, subtle imperfections, expressive pauses and restrained male part harmony; private late-night small-room recording, unglossy close-miked textures, generous space, recurring three-note motif, final chorus rising softly

**SCRATCH AWAY THE ILL**

**[Verse I]**
He plays with verse and scratches at the night,
And worries every syllable to rhyme;
He trims the dark until the dark grows light,
Then weighs each word against old Father Time.

He bends the metre till the metre grins,
Makes solemn nouns go dancing out of place;
A fool may wear the crown a king once wins,
While logic trips and tumbles out of grace.

**[Verse II]**
He crowns a king beneath a paper sky,
And wakes a dragon sleeping in his lair;
A maiden lifts her lantern passing by,
While silver bells are trembling in the air.

He tips the ink in joy, then dips despair,
Lets golden laughter darken into rain;
One line may raise a castle bright and fair,
The next may leave it ruined on the plain.

**[Refrain]**
So scratch the page and let the stories rhyme,
Let dragons wake and fallen kingdoms shine;
From maiden fair to fool and Father Time,
He turns both grief and gladness into line.

**[Verse III]**
A knight rides out where crooked shadows climb,
A jester sings beside the castle wall;
The princess dances lightly out of time,
Then hears the distant thunder of its fall.

For every feast may hide an empty chair,
And every rose must bargain with the thorn;
He tips the ink in joy and in despair,
And writes the dusk beside the coming morn.

**[Verse IV]**
From sonnet's court to nonsense down the stair,
He sends the moon to supper with a spoon;
A raven starts debating with a chair,
While Wednesday swears that Thursday came too soon.

A dragon sneezes sparks into the snow,
A duchess waltzes backwards through the hall;
The madder all the little verses grow,
The more their hidden meanings start to call.

**[Refrain]**
So scratch the page and let the stories rhyme,
Let dragons wake and fallen kingdoms shine;
From maiden fair to fool and Father Time,
He turns both grief and gladness into line.

**[Verse V]**
A beggar trades his rags to play the king,
A king lays down his crown to play the fool;
The bells of midnight suddenly may sing,
And laughter overturns the written rule.

He writes the real, then makes it half-surreal,
Lets reason wear a brightly painted mask;
For words may hide the wounds they cannot heal,
Yet naming them may still become the task.

**[Bridge]**
What beast is this that scratches in the wall?
What clock-faced cat keeps chewing at the night?
“What tale comes next?” the crooked shadows call.
He dips his pen and answers them with light.

The candle bows, the room is growing thin,
The hour creeps softly underneath the door;
Yet still he lets another tale begin,
For every ending whispers, “Write one more.”

**[Verse VI]**
He builds a ship from sentences and rhyme,
And sails beyond the borders of the page;
He steals a little breath from Father Time,
And traps a century inside a stage.

The maiden fades, the dragon turns to dust,
The king is gone, the jester leaves his chair;
But ink remembers what the living must,
And leaves their ghosts still breathing in the air.

**[Final Refrain]**
So scratch away the ill and mark the line,
Let madness dance and melancholy shine;
Tip every drop through joy and through despair,
And leave a little wonder hanging there.

Let kings arise and dragons take their flight,
Let maidens walk through morning dressed in rhyme;
For while the writer scratches through the night,
His words keep playing games with Father Time.

**[Outro]**
Scratch of the pen.
Turn of the page.

A king.
A fool.
A dragon.
A sage.

Joy in the ink.
Despair in the line.

Write—

and play
with Father Time.

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**SCRATCH AWAY THE ILL** **[Verse I]** He plays with verse and scratches at the night, And worries every syllable to rhyme; He trims the dark until the dark grows light, Then weighs each word against old Father Time. He bends the metre till the metre grins, Makes solemn nouns go dancing out of place; A fool may wear the crown a king once wins, While logic trips and tumbles out of grace. **[Verse II]** He crowns a king beneath a paper sky, And wakes a dragon sleeping in his lair; A maiden lifts her lantern passing by, While silver bells are trembling in the air. He tips the ink in joy, then dips despair, Lets golden laughter darken into rain; One line may raise a castle bright and fair, The next may leave it ruined on the plain. **[Refrain]** So scratch the page and let the stories rhyme, Let dragons wake and fallen kingdoms shine; From maiden fair to fool and Father Time, He turns both grief and gladness into line. **[Verse III]** A knight rides out where crooked shadows climb, A jester sings beside the castle wall; The princess dances lightly out of time, Then hears the distant thunder of its fall. For every feast may hide an empty chair, And every rose must bargain with the thorn; He tips the ink in joy and in despair, And writes the dusk beside the coming morn. **[Verse IV]** From sonnet's court to nonsense down the stair, He sends the moon to supper with a spoon; A raven starts debating with a chair, While Wednesday swears that Thursday came too soon. A dragon sneezes sparks into the snow, A duchess waltzes backwards through the hall; The madder all the little verses grow, The more their hidden meanings start to call. **[Refrain]** So scratch the page and let the stories rhyme, Let dragons wake and fallen kingdoms shine; From maiden fair to fool and Father Time, He turns both grief and gladness into line. **[Verse V]** A beggar trades his rags to play the king, A king lays down his crown to play the fool; The bells of midnight suddenly may sing, And laughter overturns the written rule. He writes the real, then makes it half-surreal, Lets reason wear a brightly painted mask; For words may hide the wounds they cannot heal, Yet naming them may still become the task. **[Bridge]** What beast is this that scratches in the wall? What clock-faced cat keeps chewing at the night? “What tale comes next?” the crooked shadows call. He dips his pen and answers them with light. The candle bows, the room is growing thin, The hour creeps softly underneath the door; Yet still he lets another tale begin, For every ending whispers, “Write one more.” **[Verse VI]** He builds a ship from sentences and rhyme, And sails beyond the borders of the page; He steals a little breath from Father Time, And traps a century inside a stage. The maiden fades, the dragon turns to dust, The king is gone, the jester leaves his chair; But ink remembers what the living must, And leaves their ghosts still breathing in the air. **[Final Refrain]** So scratch away the ill and mark the line, Let madness dance and melancholy shine; Tip every drop through joy and through despair, And leave a little wonder hanging there. Let kings arise and dragons take their flight, Let maidens walk through morning dressed in rhyme; For while the writer scratches through the night, His words keep playing games with Father Time. **[Outro]** Scratch of the pen. Turn of the page. A king. A fool. A dragon. A sage. Joy in the ink. Despair in the line. Write— and play with Father Time.

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