about
Written for the SpinTunes contest challenge: "Write a song based on a scene from a book or movie."
This song is based on a scene from the 1963 movie The Raven, written by Richard Matheson and directed by Roger Corman. It's all immensely far removed from Edgar Allan Poe by this point. "Crow" fit my meter better than "raven," but Wikipedia says, "There is no consistent distinction between 'crows' and 'ravens'..." anyway, so I figured I could get away with it.
I had been keen to work in the line, "You mean, he only used his hands?!" but I couldn't figure out any way to say it that didn't sound like I was talking about something completely other than what I meant.
Instead, I was aiming more toward the mood I get from these lines: "Instead of facing life, I turned my back on it. I know now why my father resisted Scarabus; because he knew that one cannot fight evil by hiding from it. Men like Scarabus thrive on the apathy of others; he thrived on mine, and that offends me. By avoiding contact with the brotherhood, I've given him freedom to commit his atrocities unopposed."
lyrics
A crow flew through my window
and alighted on my shelf.
He said, “I’ve had a dreadful night,
I hardly feel myself.
Could I bother you for a cup of wine
to nurse me back to health?”
When first the crow began to speak
his words did me astound
but then I remembered the many such wonders
that oft did my father surround,
for my father was a sorcerer
and his name had been renowned.
I’m a sorcerer’s son with the world at my fingertips—
the imagined is real in my hands.
At my subtlest gesture all nature responds to me—
the air will obey my commands.
“When I left home some hours ago,”
the crow his tale resumed,
“I was a man, and not a bird
as you might have presumed.
A wizard cast a spell o’er me
and this form I assumed.
“From that dark enchanter’s castle,
through the bitter cold night air,
I made my way to your fine home
seeking succor there—
for I know of a way to undo this curse
with a lock of your father’s hair.”
The thought of disturbing my father’s rest
filled my heart with dread!
For though he lies in our family crypt,
a sorcerer is never truly dead…
When I opened up the casket
and saw my father there,
I greeted him with deference,
explaining the need for his hair.
He reached for me and grasped my arm
and spoke the word, “Beware!”
When my guest was once again a man,
freed from feathers cruel,
he revealed ‘twas the grand-master mage
who transformed him in a duel,
with only the twitch of a fingertip.
Then I knew I’d been a fool.
I’m a sorcerer’s son but I’d put it behind me—
from the world I’d become a recluse.
He devoted his life to the magician’s brotherhood,
working to stem dark magic’s abuse.
I’m a sorcerer’s son and my fortune’s caught up to me—
I can no longer dismiss its call.
The darkness unceasingly pecks at humanity—
stripping the souls from us all.
- He's the son, he must rise, to push back against the darkness. -
- The sun must rise! -
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