Uploaded July 2022 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago
I wrote a song while at an airbnb with friends in Portugal. This is the first time in a long time that I've written a song in one sitting—the main way I used to write songs—and that's the main thing the song is about.
In multiple ways it feels like a sort of sequel to Hello My Old Heart, which you can watch a much more tense teenage me play here: youtu.be/s418-nminLc?t=26
Lyrics:
I'm trying to find the old muse
the one that came to me line-by-line
waited impatiently for me to find
a piece of paper, to lay her to rest
I'm looking at that old muse
as she approaches me tentatively
and I create the space for her to be
revealed and caressed
Show yourself to me—your hand must be more deft
Like a sculptor, decisive, with every stroke and cleft
You are breathing me now—this heart must find a way
There'll be other songs tomorrow, so if you want me, take me today
I'm greeted by an old friend
I'm re-remembering how she gets in
she's unfamiliar as she's always been
and she's got me chained to the bed
I'm looking at that old friend
I'm kinda nervous so she takes my hand
I listen closer and I understand
and together we fall out of my head
Show yourself to me—your hand must be more deft
Like a sculptor, adding nothing, just leaving what is left
You are breathing me now—this heart must find a way
To give birth to my song, as an eternal taste of today
I'm feeling for my old ways
I couldn't feel so I tried to touch
what came before the man who knew too much
a boy or a god or a poem?
I'm laughing in my old age
all I collected just to be so wise
and for the millionth time to realize
that my soul is wisdom's home
Show yourself to me—your hand must be more deft
Like a sculpture, prepared, to be broken and bereft
You are breathing me now—this heart must find a way
You can play with perfection, but play is not a thing that can stay
I wrote a song while at an airbnb with friends in Portugal. This is the first time in a long time that I've written a song in one sitting—the main way I used to write songs—and that's the main thing the song is about.
In multiple ways it feels like a sort of sequel to Hello My Old Heart, which you can watch a much more tense teenage me play here: youtu.be/s418-nminLc?t=26
Lyrics:
I'm trying to find the old muse
the one that came to me line-by-line
waited impatiently for me to find
a piece of paper, to lay her to rest
I'm looking at that old muse
as she approaches me tentatively
and I create the space for her to be
revealed and caressed
Show yourself to me—your hand must be more deft
Like a sculptor, decisive, with every stroke and cleft
You are breathing me now—this heart must find a way
There'll be other songs tomorrow, so if you want me, take me today
I'm greeted by an old friend
I'm re-remembering how she gets in
she's unfamiliar as she's always been
and she's got me chained to the bed
I'm looking at that old friend
I'm kinda nervous so she takes my hand
I listen closer and I understand
and together we fall out of my head
Show yourself to me—your hand must be more deft
Like a sculptor, adding nothing, just leaving what is left
You are breathing me now—this heart must find a way
To give birth to my song, as an eternal taste of today
I'm feeling for my old ways
I couldn't feel so I tried to touch
what came before the man who knew too much
a boy or a god or a poem?
I'm laughing in my old age
all I collected just to be so wise
and for the millionth time to realize
that my soul is wisdom's home
Show yourself to me—your hand must be more deft
Like a sculpture, prepared, to be broken and bereft
You are breathing me now—this heart must find a way
You can play with perfection, but play is not a thing that can stay
