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Paper title
It’s Sunday morning. You’re at a diner, eating eggs and toast. You have a flash of an idea for an opening line of a song; maybe it’s something on the menu; maybe it’s the cell phone conversation at the next table over; maybe it’s something you dreamt about. You write it down on your napkin and slip it in your pocket. When you get home, you make a sketch of the lyrics and chords, and you record the song. No back-up band, no fancy studio, no expensive microphone. These are the Paper Napkin Files. Paper napkin

 

ANTHEM listen
Copyright 2008 Silas Meredith
posted February 12, 2008
Hello Framily! This was recorded with friends in a basement in Eugene, OR in December 2007. The mixing mastermind is Matt Gordon, and the musicians are Peter Meredith, Joaquín Espinoza-Goodman, Matt Gordon, Brooks Barnett, Ohj Tavallai, Christopher Muchabaiwa, and Cody Simmons. Lyrics are by Ian Melchinger. More formal than the usual Paper Napkin File. These guys are incredible, so I hope you enjoy! We're scheduled to go into the studio in July 2008.

This flag is made of fire
These walls are made of sea
This past is made of bones
This future is my brother’s gift to me

Our glasses raised with pride
No longer we’ll be slaves
We cheer the ghosts outside
We’re free, and bound, like water in the waves

And if we have to die for this
Our blood will flow like wine
Our sons will toast us where we held the line

Our fields and our dreams
Are the harvest we have sown 
Red stones and wooden beams
We fight today for all the seasons we have known

Tomorrow we defend
With schools and arms and friends
My grandchildren will see
The sun set on an old man who is free

 
JONAH listen
Copyright 2007 Silas Meredith
posted June 12, 2007

Look into my eyes when you lie
Close your mouth and don’t talk when you kiss me
Don’t you know I love it when you’re telling me stories
Your pack of old half-truths,
I smoke ‘em like Marlboro Lights

You’re playing catch and release
It takes two for underwater tango
Making people lonely is your registered trademark
But hook-line-and-sinker was never my forte

It’s such a small, small pond for great a big fish
But you may find yourself a tasty seafood dish
It’s such a fine line

Life is good inside of the whale
Jonah never asked to be a prophet
All he ever wanted was some shade and a soft bed
Four walls and three square meals,
but smelling like fish guts is the easy way out

‘cause you can shirk all your work
Never have to sail when seas are stormy
Hard to be ambitious when you’re comfortably rolling
Through hurricane high seas and thunder and lightning

It’s such a small, small pond for a great big fish
But you may find yourself a tasty seafood dish
It’s such a fine line

It’s such a tiny distinction between eater and eaten
So watch your back
Your recreational hunting takes you deep in the forest
So trace your tracks
Your trail of butter-fried breadcrumbs might end up in a batter
To fry you black
So look into my eyes…